Shadow of a Doubt

by Michelle Davies

  ‘I hope your doctor’s prognosis is correct, Mrs Belling. This is her first suspension – two more and I shall have no choice but to expel her for good.’

  Chapter Fifty

  Anita

  The three days were a living hell. Cara did not react well to her punishment and Anita was largely left alone to deal with it. Paul had already been away overnight on Monday and Tuesday and then a sudden demand from his boss on Thursday morning meant he had to head back up north again for another two nights. Before his departure he inflamed the already volatile atmosphere by telling Cara they were cancelling her birthday party … It wasn’t enough that the school had punished her, he said, as her parents they needed to discipline her too. A part of Anita was relieved, because it absolved her from trying to convince the other mums to override the party ban laid down by Susie, but she also knew Cara wouldn’t react well to the news and she was right.

  On being told the party would not be happening, Cara had spun into an uncontrollable rage and had wrecked the front room, breaking an irreplaceable vase that had belonged to Anita’s late mother in the process. Then she’d raced upstairs, locked herself in the bathroom and wailed like a wounded animal for an hour.

  Tonight was the last evening of the suspension and Anita had arranged for Karen to come over once the kids were in bed.

  Shortly before nine, her sister arrived, brandishing a bottle of wine.

  ‘That bad?’ she remarked, after Anita broke down the moment she stepped into the house.

  ‘I’ve had enough. I can’t deal with her any more. She’s awful.’

  The children were finally asleep, but only just. Cara’s bad behaviour was rubbing off on Matty and it had been a battle to get him to clean his teeth and into his pyjamas. Anita had become so riled that she’d refused to read him his usual bedtime story and now felt guilty that he’d cried himself to sleep instead. Cara, meanwhile, wouldn’t budge off the sofa until Matty was in bed and Anita had had to manhandle her upstairs kicking and screaming. Thank God their house was detached and their neighbours, the lovely, quiet Shakoor family, couldn’t hear them.

  Anita fetched some wine glasses and the pair of them went into the lounge.

  ‘Bloody hell, it looks like a bomb’s gone off in here,’ said Karen.

  ‘Cara wouldn’t go to bed when I asked,’ said Anita wearily, picking up the sofa cushions from the floor and ramming them back into position. She turned to her sister, eyes brimming with fresh tears. ‘I’m sick to death of her. She causes me so much grief, I can’t bear to be around her.’

  ‘I don’t blame you. I don’t know what to suggest to help things improve though, apart from giving you this.’

  Karen poured a generous helping of wine into a glass and passed it to Anita, who knocked it back in one, then held out the glass to be refilled.

  ‘Getting me drunk will help, trust me,’ she grimaced.

  She flopped down onto the sofa and propped her feet up on the lacquered coffee table. Her feet looked grubby, her red toenail polish chipped. She’d been wearing the same outfit of faded blue capri jeans and a white T-shirt for three days now, too worn down to bother with showering or putting a wash on so she had clean clothes to change into.

  ‘This weather isn’t helping. It’s too wet to do anything, so we can’t even escape the house.’

  The rain was relentless. If it wasn’t coming down in sheets, it was a muggy grey drizzle.

  Karen sat down beside her. She was still wearing her work clothes – smart black pencil skirt, cream blouse with shoulder pad inserts and natural tan tights. Anita envied her sister for dressing up every day to work at the building society and for the sense of purpose her job gave her. Then she caught a whiff of something stale as Karen slipped her feet out of her heels and propped them up next to hers and felt a stab of satisfaction that her sister wasn’t as perfect as she appeared.

  ‘I watched the forecast earlier and John Kettley reckons it could end up being one of the wettest summers on record,’ said Karen, stifling a yawn.

  ‘Really?’ Anita was horrified. The thought of being stuck indoors with Cara for weeks on end made her want to hyperventilate. They hadn’t booked a holiday yet because Paul didn’t know when he could get leave and his boss was being evasive every time he asked. For now, it was looking as though she would be stuck at home with the kids for the entire six weeks, unless she called upon the kindness of Mrs Shakoor and off-loaded them at hers for afternoons at a time. She never seemed to mind when her younger sons Amir and Raman piled indoors with the rest of the neighbourhood children in tow and Anita was even prepared to risk exposing Cara to the eldest, Tishk, if it meant having some time to herself. Maybe she should have a word with him first, warn him what was at stake if he didn’t behave around the little ones. His parents were still oblivious to his slipping out at all hours and she could use it as leverage if she had to.

  ‘That’s what he said. Obviously, they don’t always get it right, but it’s looking like a wet one.’

  ‘Give me that.’ Anita took the bottle of wine from her and topped up her glass.

  ‘Steady on, there won’t be any left for me.’

  ‘So we’ll open another.’

  Karen turned to look at her. ‘Drinking yourself into a stupor won’t help, actually. For one thing, it’ll be ten times worse dealing with Cara when you’ve got a hangover. When’s the appointment to take her to see Dr Stephens again?’

  ‘It was meant to be next Friday, but Paul’s got a conference that day now and because he’s insisting on coming with us, I’ll have to rebook it for the week after. I’m at my wits’ end, sis,’ said Anita tearfully. She faltered for a moment, wondering if she dared say what she was thinking aloud and whether her sister would think her a monster if she did. Bugger it, she thought. ‘I’ve reached the point where I just want to pack my bags and leave. God, that sounds awful, doesn’t it?’

  ‘We all have moments like that,’ Karen reassured her. ‘Being a mum is bloody hard work these days, not like it was when we were kids. Now we’re guilt-tripped if we leave our kids to their own devices, but in the same breath we’re told women should be out working to set an example to them. How can we work and not leave them alone at the same time?’

  ‘I’d happily leave Cara alone right now.’

  ‘So get another job.’

  ‘That isn’t going to help. Moving to Scotland might,’ Anita sighed.

  ‘You don’t mean that. I know things are tough right now, but you love Cara and Matty and you couldn’t leave them.’

  ‘Don’t be so sure. Loving them doesn’t stop me wanting to run away and leave Paul to it.’

  Karen’s expression soured. ‘There’s your problem,’ she said.

  ‘Paul does his best. He can’t help that his job takes him away from home all the time.’

  ‘He could look for another one that doesn’t involve travelling.’

  ‘He’s going for a promotion and if he gets it, he’ll be at home a lot more,’ she said, neglecting to add that a part of her hoped he wasn’t offered the role, because the thought of him being around all the time and there being nothing for them to talk about filled her with dread.

  Karen sipped her wine. ‘Being at home is one thing, Neet. Helping out at home is another. How many times have you complained to me that Paul doesn’t help with anything when he is here? He needs to pull his weight.’

  ‘Gary’s hardly dad of the year,’ Anita sniped.

  ‘I’m not saying he is. But he does his fair share. We take turns cooking, he hangs the laundry out if I ask, and he’ll do the shopping too.’

  Anita fell silent. It annoyed her when Karen eulogised Gary as though he was the patron saint of husbands.

  ‘How’s everything else between you two at the moment?’ Karen asked pointedly.

  Anita squirmed. It was during another wine-drinking session that she’d mentioned to her sister how infrequently she and Paul had sex, and now Karen brought it up every time the
y were alone together as though it was a bad thing.

  ‘Fine,’ she lied. ‘What about you?’

  ‘Actually, we’ve hit a bit of a purple patch,’ Karen giggled. ‘Gary bought me some underwear from Ann Summers and it’s working wonders.’

  As Karen went into more detail than was necessary, Anita simmered with resentment. She couldn’t help it. She was the fitter, more attractive sister – she should be the one having great sex in racy knickers, not Karen with her badly styled mouse-brown hair and a figure that could do with shedding a few pounds, she thought bitchily.

  The conversation drifted on, but Anita tuned her sister out as she downed another glass of wine. Then she got up, cutting Karen off mid-flow, and fetched another bottle of wine from the cupboard. As she stuck it in the top drawer of the freezer to chill, her frustration began to mount. It wasn’t fair that this was her life, stuck indoors with a horror of a daughter, a son who wanted to be babied all the time and a husband who bored the crap out of her when he was there. She wanted excitement, adventures, to be with someone who desired her. Tears pricked her eyes.

  She wanted him again.

  Two months had passed since Anita had ended her affair. A shiver rippled through her as she allowed herself a moment’s indulgence to think about their last time together, then just as quickly, she forced the memory back into the deep recess from where it had sprung. That last time had to be the last time, she reminded herself. She’d made a promise.

  But as she returned to the lounge and Karen launched into a dull line of chat about a problem she was having at work, Anita knew she was about to go back on her word. She might hate the sneaking around, the lies she had to feed her family so she could escape to see her lover and the pervading sense of guilt, but after years of being in a marriage where she felt so lonely, to be really seen and heard by someone she never imagined would be interested in her was too intoxicating to ignore. His door was always open, that much he’d made clear, so where was the harm? A happy Anita was a happier mum, surely, she tipsily tried to rationalise.

  Her mind made up, she told Karen she was exhausted and wanted to go to bed.

  ‘What about that other bottle?’

  ‘You were right; dealing with Cara will be much worse with a hangover.’

  Karen followed her into the kitchen, where Anita took the bottle from the freezer drawer and put it in the fridge.

  ‘Shall I come round and help you drink that tomorrow?’ Karen asked.

  ‘Oh … I, um, want to catch up on a programme I recorded at the weekend.’ Anita could feel the heat building in her cheeks and hoped Karen wouldn’t notice. ‘But maybe the evening after?’

  ‘That works for me.’

  As soon as Karen had pulled the back door to behind her, Anita darted down the hallway and snatched up the phone receiver from its cradle. Heart in her mouth, she dialled the number as familiar to her as her own. To her relief, it was him who picked up.

  ‘Heldean 27947,’ came the answer.

  ‘It’s me,’ she said.

  Silence.

  ‘I know I said I didn’t want to see you again, but I’ve changed my mind. I miss you. I need to see you,’ she babbled nervously.

  More silence.

  ‘Please say something,’ she pleaded.

  Finally, he answered.

  ‘When’s Paul’s next trip?’

  Relief cascaded through her. She hadn’t blown it. ‘He’s away at the moment. He’s not back until Saturday morning.’

  ‘Tomorrow night?’

  ‘Yes, that would be perfect.’

  A noise suddenly rang out in his background.

  ‘Who’s that you’re talking to?’ Anita heard a woman say.

  ‘Wrong number,’ came his nonchalant reply before the line went dead.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Lisa

  The third week of July, right before the summer holidays began, saw Lisa allowed home early on the Friday after competing in her school’s sports day. With a first place in the 4×400m relay to boast about and not wanting to go home to an empty house, she decided to meet Ryan from school as a surprise. Auntie Neet usually collected him, along with Cara and Matty, but apparently the new job she’d recently started meant she couldn’t get there in time, so the children had been walking home alone every Friday for the past month. Lisa hadn’t seen Cara or Matty much since the gravy boat incident – her stepdad and Anita had agreed they should hold off on the Sunday lunches for a while – and she thought her cousins might appreciate her coming to get them.

  Matty’s class was the first to empty out into the playground. His teacher had been on the staff when Lisa attended the school and was happy to let Matty go home with her. He, on the hand other, didn’t appear that pleased to see his cousin. He took his time walking over to her, dragging his satchel along the ground behind him by the strap.

  ‘What’s up with you?’ Lisa asked.

  He shrugged, head bent forward so she couldn’t see his face properly.

  ‘Matty? Did something bad happen today?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So what is it?’

  ‘I’m tired.’

  He finally looked up at her and Lisa could see how exhausted he was, his skin pale beneath his sparrow-egg freckles. Before she could say anything, Cara had joined them and Lisa noticed she was similarly rumpled.

  ‘I thought I’d walk you home,’ she said.

  ‘I want to go up the Rec,’ Cara immediately answered. ‘Can we?’

  Matty brightened at the suggestion. ‘Yes, can we please, Lisa?’

  She squinted skywards. It didn’t look as though it might rain – the sky wasn’t bright blue, but blue enough, and there were only a few clouds visible for a change. ‘Okay, we can go.’

  Matty jumped excitedly on the spot. ‘Yes!’

  ‘Have you got anything to eat?’ asked Cara.

  ‘No, but my mum gave me my pocket money this morning so we could stop at the corner shop on the way.’

  She scanned the children still massed around their respective teachers, waiting for their parents to collect them. Ryan was among them, even though he could clearly see her waiting.

  ‘Ryan, come on!’ She gestured to him, but he shook his head.

  Annoyed, she instructed Matty and Cara to wait there and went to get him.

  ‘What’s the hold-up?’ she asked her brother.

  ‘I don’t want to walk home with her.’ He pointed at Cara and scowled.

  ‘Why? Has she hit you again?’

  ‘No, but Danny is being horrible to me because I’m her cousin and he says she’s loopy.’

  Lisa had a vague idea who Danny was: a gobby kid with curly jet-black hair who made Ryan cry during last year’s Christmas Nativity when he tripped him up with his shepherd’s crook on stage.

  ‘Why would Danny say that?’

  ‘Because Cara keeps saying Limey Stan is still living in her house.’

  Lisa could tell Ryan was het up – the lisp he’d spoken with since he babbled his first word became more pronounced when he was upset and right now it was particularly obvious.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Cara. Why was she still going on about that nonsense? Her cousin glared back at her sullenly, as though she knew what they were talking about.

  ‘Look, ignore Danny,’ Lisa said, turning back to Ryan. ‘He’s just being silly.’ She held out her hand. ‘Want some sweets? I’ve got some money to go to the shop.’

  ‘With Cara?’

  ‘Yes, with Cara,’ said Lisa firmly.

  Ryan looked torn for a moment, but the lure of sweets was too strong to resist. ‘Okay.’

  They were walking away when a group of boys, around Cara’s age, came bowling past them yelling at the tops of their voices.

  ‘Limey Stan, Limey Stan, Cara loves the Shadow Man!’

  ‘Bugger off!’ Lisa yelled at them, forgetting where she was for a moment. Then she spun towards Cara, fearful of how she would react to the chants.
But her cousin just smiled as the boys ran past.

  Four packets of Chewits purchased, the cousins arrived at the Rec and made a beeline for the playground. Ryan and Matty dumped their bags on the floor before clambering onto the roundabout, where they would stay, spinning themselves dizzy, until it was time to leave. Cara sat on one of the swings but made no attempt to move and instead rested her right temple against the chain holding it up. Lisa plonked herself down next to her.

  ‘Ryan says you’ve been telling people at school that Limey Stan’s still haunting your house,’ she said. Maybe if they played along with it, Cara would get bored and would find something new to be obsessed with.

  Cara didn’t move a muscle.

  ‘Well, is he?’

  Her cousin gave the tiniest of nods.

  ‘Have you seen him again?’

  ‘I keep missing him,’ Cara said, stifling a yawn. ‘I hear him making noises, but when I get up, he’s always gone.’

  ‘He’s waking you up every night?’

  ‘No, but I can’t sleep even when he doesn’t come because I’m scared.’

  Lisa thought for a moment. ‘What time does he usually come? Do you ever check your clock?’

  Cara nodded. ‘It’s always after one in the morning that I hear him.’

  ‘So there’s a pattern to him showing up.’ Lisa pushed herself backwards, then scuffed the toes of her shoes along the ground as she swung forward. ‘If you want to catch him, you need to be hiding somewhere before he comes, not wait until afterwards.’

  ‘What, you mean lie in wait?’ Cara sat up straight, eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘That’s a great idea. We could hide downstairs!’

  ‘It would have to be somewhere you can’t be seen though.’

  Lisa knew that even if Cara spent the whole night hiding, she still wouldn’t see anything, because – duh – ghosts weren’t real, but she was happy enough to encourage her cousin, because someone had to humour her. As Cara began to consider suitable hiding places, chattering away as she swung back and forth, Lisa smiled to herself.

  Cara was still yabbering when Amir and Raman Shakoor turned up ten minutes later. The brothers were on their BMXs, which they unceremoniously dropped to the ground upon reaching the playground. Lisa looked hopefully past them to see if Tishk was with them, but the boys were unaccompanied. Amir came over to the swings, while Raman, the younger of the two, went over to the roundabout and waited patiently as Ryan slowed it down long enough for him to hop on.