Shadow of a Doubt

by Michelle Davies

  ‘What’s wrong with being like that?’ asked Lisa.

  ‘Nothing, I suppose, but the outbursts, the screaming and the violence that goes with it, that’s not right. Look what she just did – if that gravy boat had hit you, Matty or Mum in the face when she threw it, it could’ve really injured you. She hurt Matty’s wrist too.’

  ‘I don’t think she meant to.’

  ‘That’s the point, Lees. She can’t help the way she is.’ His expression darkened. ‘If I had my way, I’d keep you and Ryan away from her, for safety’s sake. But your mum being so close to Auntie Neet means she won’t hear of it. But, between you and me,’ he squeezed his stepdaughter’s shoulders conspiratorially, ‘the sooner they get Cara properly seen to, the better, before she really hurts one of you.’

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Anita

  Cara was allowed out of her room an hour after Lisa and the others had left, but only after she’d received a blistering lecture from Paul about her behaviour and been handed down a punishment of no sweets, treats or TV for a week. The child accepted it without argument and said nothing when, after ham sandwiches for tea, Matty was allowed a Kipling Country Slice by his dad and she had to make do with a satsuma. Anita said nothing, in an effort to present a united front with her husband, but later, when they were getting ready for bed, she voiced her disagreement.

  ‘You know how she gets about Matty having more treats. She thinks we favour him as it is, and it felt like you were rubbing her nose in it.’

  ‘Tough. He’s not the one being punished for lobbing a gravy boat. It wouldn’t have been fair to say no to him having the cake.’

  Paul sat on the edge of the bed to remove his socks while Anita perched on the stool in front of her dressing-table mirror and wiped her make-up off with cleanser and cotton wool.

  ‘I just think we should choose our battles,’ she sighed. ‘Things are difficult enough with Cara as it is.’

  ‘You don’t need to tell me that. I spent half an hour trying to get rid of those gravy stains. The wallpaper’s bloody ruined.’

  ‘All I’m saying is, let’s not antagonise her.’

  They were speaking in lowered voices because the children were asleep in their rooms next door. But the expletive Paul uttered in response to her comment was said at normal volume, making Anita flinch.

  ‘Please keep your voice down,’ she hissed.

  ‘I will if you stop making ridiculous statements. Let’s not antagonise her,’ he repeated with a scoff. ‘You act like you’re scared of her.’

  Anita spun round on the stool and glared at him, a nerve hit. ‘Of course I’m not.’

  ‘So stop acting like you are.’

  ‘I’m not scared of her,’ she seethed at him, ‘but I am concerned about her behaviour.’

  ‘I am too. Saying she thinks she heard and saw a ghost …’ he tailed off. ‘It’s not right, is it? First that bloody friend Michael, now this. I think we need to take her back to see Dr Stephens and ask for a referral to a specialist. I’ll get the day off to come with you.’

  Anita was taken aback. Paul never normally bothered with any appointments relating to the children. Admittedly, his working hours precluded his attendance on pretty much all occasions, but it was often a struggle to get him to engage with the children when he was at home. He didn’t seem bothered that he was missing Cara’s birthday party or that she’d be devastated when she found out. They’d been putting off telling her, hoping that the closer it got, the more excited she would be and the less his absence would bother her. So this new-found concern of Paul’s irritated Anita, as did the thought of him leading the discussions with the specialist, as he would invariably try to do. It was all very well taking charge now, but where was he when Cara was disrupting the household with her outbursts?

  ‘That said, maybe the house is haunted,’ he said with a wry grin.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘It happens. There are stories in the papers all the time.’

  ‘Paul, our house is not haunted,’ said Anita exasperatedly. ‘Next you’ll be telling me you want to get a priest round to perform an exorcism.’

  ‘Maybe Cara’s possessed and that’s what’s wrong with her,’ he chuckled, taking off his jeans.

  ‘Well, if her head starts spinning and she vomits green sick, I’ll be sure to call the vicar at St Mary’s.’

  Paul laughed, then removed his shirt and climbed beneath the covers. She slipped into bed beside him and prayed he was too tired to try anything.

  ‘Damn, I forgot to bring a glass of water up,’ he said. ‘Want one?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  He threw back the covers and went downstairs, leaving her alone in darkness. Within seconds, she was drifting off, until a noise downstairs jarred her awake. What the hell was that? Then she realised it was Paul shutting the door between the hallway and the kitchen and she laughed to herself. Cara’s story about the ghost must have spooked her more than she realised.

  Settling back on her pillow, she was just closing her eyes again when she heard the creak of footsteps as Paul came along the hallway and up the stairs and it was in that moment that Anita’s brain made the connection between what she had just heard and what Cara had said about being woken up in the middle of the night by noises and she sat up, panicked. Footsteps on the stairs, someone talking in the hallway … what if Cara really had been woken by someone else in the house – someone who wasn’t Paul …

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Anita

  The next morning, Anita awoke in turmoil after a restless night spent tossing and turning. There was no way she could say anything to Paul about what was troubling her and she could barely look him or Cara in the eye as the two of them sat down in the dining room for breakfast with Matty, an act in itself which threw her, because Paul rarely ate with the children before leaving for work. But it was clear, after he helped himself to a bowl of their Coco Pops, that he had an agenda.

  ‘Mummy and I were talking last night and we think we should go to see Dr Stephens again,’ he addressed his daughter. ‘Just for a chat to check how things are.’

  Anita could see he was being deliberately ambiguous, but he was underestimating Cara’s level of comprehension.

  ‘You think I’m making the ghost up,’ she scowled at him.

  Anita, who was standing in the doorway listening to them, readied herself for another row.

  ‘It’s not that,’ said Paul hastily. ‘You just don’t seem very happy, you often get angry, and we want to get to the bottom of why.’

  ‘It’s because I’m tired!’ Cara cried. ‘I get woken up all the time.’

  ‘By a big scary ghost,’ breathed Matty, his eyes widening. Then he broke into giggles, but his remark made Anita’s insides churn.

  ‘What, have you heard it too?’ Paul asked their son.

  ‘Cara always wakes me up too late and it’s gone by then.’

  Cara shot a furious look at her brother and tried to kick him under the table.

  Anita’s insides churned even more. ‘You wake Matty up?’

  ‘I get scared on my own.’

  Paul looked puzzled. ‘Why don’t you wake Mummy if you’re frightened?’

  ‘She’s always fast asleep and snoring.’

  Anita looked at him helplessly. ‘I’ve never heard her come in or call for me.’

  He reacted as though he didn’t believe her and she didn’t blame him. What kind of mum was she to sleep through her children being upset?

  ‘There’s no point getting Mummy to come and help, though,’ Cara added, ‘because grown-ups can’t see ghosts.’

  Anita caught Paul’s eye again and she was relieved to see his annoyance of a moment ago had been supplanted by amusement. Their daughter really did have an answer for everything.

  ‘Who told you that, sweetheart?’ he asked.

  ‘Evie. She said that’s why you haven’t heard Limey Stan either. It’s because you can’t.’
>
  ‘Sorry, who?’ Anita asked.

  ‘Limey Stan. That’s his name.’

  There was a moment’s silence, then Matty giggled again. ‘It’s a silly name.’

  ‘It is,’ Anita agreed. She eased into the room and set her coffee cup down on the table. ‘How do you know it’s called that?’

  ‘He,’ Cara corrected. ‘He’s called that. Because I heard him say it.’

  ‘You heard the ghost speak?’ Paul was trying hard not to laugh. Anita glared at him.

  ‘He whispered it at the bottom of the stairs.’

  Anita had to give credit where it was due: it was a heck of a name her daughter’s imagination had conjured up. She was probably having nightmares and dreaming about noises and voices in the house, thinking she was awake, and was still too young to work out what was real and what wasn’t. Anita was overcome with relief, because it meant the fears that had driven her demented throughout the night were unfounded. She’d never heard of the name Limey Stan in any context before now, so all this ghost nonsense with Cara couldn’t be her fault and the next breath she exhaled was released with a tremble. Her secret was still safe.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us he was called Limey Stan when Lisa brought it up yesterday?’ Paul asked.

  Cara scowled again. ‘You were all laughing at me, so I didn’t want to.’

  ‘Honey, if you go around saying you’re talking to ghosts, people will laugh,’ he said pointedly.

  ‘Evie thinks it’s brilliant,’ she pouted.

  ‘Have you told anyone else?’ asked Anita worriedly.

  ‘Evie told everyone,’ Matty piped up. ‘The whole school knows about Limey Stan.’

  ‘She shouldn’t be spreading stories like that, she’s meant to be your friend,’ said Paul harshly. ‘People will think you’re weird.’

  Cara’s expression shifted and Anita could see she was about to blow. Eager to stave off the impending tantrum, she clapped her hands briskly.

  ‘Right, you two, upstairs to brush your teeth.’

  Thankfully, Cara did not protest. She shoved her chair back and rushed from the table in an effort to beat her brother to the bathroom.

  Anita sighed. Another crisis averted.

  ‘You need to ring the doctor today,’ said Paul, rising from the table, where he’d left his empty bowl for her to clear away. ‘This is getting out of hand. I don’t want people thinking my kid is a fantasist.’

  ‘I will,’ she reassured him. ‘I’ll call for an appointment after I’ve dropped them off.’

  The floodgates opened, Cara talked about Limey Stan non-stop on the way to school. It was a struggle for Anita to concentrate, but she did, because it was the first time in ages she could remember her daughter being so enthused about something. Cara might claim to be spooked by Limey Stan’s nocturnal ‘visits’, but she was also excited – this was her experience, no one else’s. She also revelled in the retelling of it to a captive audience: Anita was so conscious of giving Cara her full attention that a couple of times she ignored Matty tugging at her hand, which made Cara’s smile spread even wider.

  The school was a ten-minute walk from their house, through the estate and across the bridge spanning the railway line, then down a lane. They were early for a change and among the first to arrive in the playground. Yet as the minutes ticked by, Anita began to notice that, as more families arrived, hers was still standing alone. The mums who normally came up and said hello were giving her a wide berth as they entered the playground and a couple threw looks of ill-disguised contempt in their direction. Why were they being unfriendly? She tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed and chatted brightly to the children, until, to her relief, Karen came tearing in with Ryan in tow.

  ‘Can you see him into the queue?’ her sister panted. ‘I’m going to be late for work and I’m already on a warning.’

  Anita wanted to say ‘No, wait with me and shield me from the dirty looks I’m definitely not imagining,’ but that wouldn’t have been fair on Karen, who was clearly harassed and couldn’t risk losing her job.

  ‘Of course, you shoot off.’

  At least Ryan was a good distraction for his cousins from the obvious shunning that was going on around them. Anita tried to catch the eye of Jane, whose daughter was among Cara’s circle of friends and who she’d always got on well with, but the mum shifted position so her back was to them. Upset, Anita was debating whether to go over and ask for a word when she saw Susie, mum of Abigail, another girl in Cara’s class, bearing down on her. Anita smiled with relief – finally someone was coming to say hi.

  On reaching Anita, Susie thrust a sheaf of papers at her. ‘These are for you.’

  The pieces of paper were bright pink and covered in glitter that rubbed off on her fingertips as she took them from Susie. Anita recognised them immediately as the invitations she and Cara had made for her birthday party.

  ‘Everyone’s RSVP’d,’ Susie went on, her expression set. Over her shoulder, the other mums were watching them.

  Anita leafed through the invites, her dismay ballooning as she checked each one. ‘They’re all ticked “unable to attend”,’ she said.

  ‘That’s right. None of the kids can make it.’

  Anita cast a panicked eye down at Cara, who was thankfully absorbed in examining a snail she, Matty and Ryan had found on the ground.

  ‘But why?’

  ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

  Susie turned on her heel and strolled back to the others, who swarmed around her like worker bees protecting their queen. Anita couldn’t see Susie’s expression, but it must have been pretty animated, if the reaction of the other mums was anything to go by.

  Anita quickly stuffed the invites into her cardigan pocket so Cara wouldn’t see them. She didn’t know how, but she would try to salvage the party somehow, once she got to the bottom of what was going on …

  ‘Mrs Belling?’

  Anita looked up to see the head teacher, Mrs Colman, approaching. The woman did not look happy and Anita’s stomach pitched in alarm.

  ‘Do you have a moment to come to my office?’ the head asked.

  ‘What for?’

  Anita didn’t mean to respond so bluntly, but she was conscious of Susie and the other mums watching them. Why did the head have to single her out today of all days?

  ‘It’s about an incident that happened in school on Friday that I’ve just been informed about.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It involves one of your children.’

  ‘I suppose it’s too much to hope it’s Matty,’ Anita faintly laughed.

  Mrs Colman’s lips thinned to the point of evaporation.

  ‘No, it is not your son we must discuss.’ She addressed the children sharply: ‘Get into your class lines ready to go inside.’

  ‘You don’t want Cara to come with us?’ Anita queried after the three of them hugged her goodbye and shot off to join their classmates.

  ‘It will be better dealt with between us first.’

  Anita meekly followed the head inside, feeling horribly exposed as dozens of pairs of eyes tracked their journey across the playground. Once inside her office, Mrs Colman wasted no time detailing the latest allegations being levelled at her daughter.

  ‘Cara pushed another girl to the floor and stamped on her leg when the children were collecting their bags at the end of Friday. The incident was only reported this morning because the child waited until she got home to tell her parents what happened.’

  Anita waited a moment before responding, knowing it wouldn’t help Cara if she did not keep her calm.

  ‘It sounds as though you’re stating what happened as fact.’

  ‘There is incontrovertible evidence the incident occurred. The child in question has a bruise the shape and tread of a shoe sole on her thigh.’

  Mrs Colman had never been particularly warm during any of Anita’s previous dealings with her – trained in an era where discipline was meted out with a cane at the school’s
discretion, this new era of increased parental involvement clearly irritated the hell out of her – but today she was glacial.

  ‘Do you have proof Cara did it?’ Anita shot back, trying to keep her voice steady. It sounded like a horrible assault that deserved a severe punishment and she couldn’t bear the thought that Cara might be responsible, but she wasn’t going to concede her daughter’s guilt until the head had convinced her she really was the culprit.

  ‘There were a number of witnesses who’ve confirmed it was Cara. The child who was hurt also identified Cara as the person who stamped on her.’

  ‘But they could be ganging up to blame her!’ Anita protested, thinking of how she had just been singled out herself by the pack in the playground.

  ‘They could,’ Mrs Colman acknowledged, ‘but in this instance I have no reason to disbelieve their compelling testimony. Nor is this the first occasion where Cara has been in trouble for causing physical harm to her classmates. As you are well aware, there have been incidents of her pushing children over and slapping them.’

  ‘I’m sure she didn’t mean to hurt Abigail,’ said Anita desperately.

  She knew the victim had to be her because of Susie’s performance just now – throwing the invites in Anita’s face felt like a personal retaliation and not something she would’ve done on behalf of someone else’s child.

  ‘I feel I have no choice but to impose a period of suspension on Cara. She can complete today at school, then she must not return until Friday.’

  ‘Three days?’ Anita was filled with dread at the prospect.

  ‘I consider it a lenient punishment. A harder stamp could easily have resulted in broken bones,’ said Mrs Colman, at which Anita paled. The head rested her forearms on her desk, clasped her hands and leaned forward. ‘I cannot impress upon you enough how Cara’s behaviour needs to drastically improve, Mrs Belling. These attacks and the disruption she causes in class cannot continue.’

  Anita was close to tears now. ‘We’re trying our best. Our GP said there’s nothing wrong with her and that she’ll grow out of her moods.’