Flint shakes his head and his ponytail flicks from side to side like a horse’s tail. ‘Nah. Tim is cool. This is going to be SO much fun. I’ll be a real man after this adventure. My brothers won’t be able to boss me around anymore.’
It is so dark. Not even the moon shines through the treetops. I already miss my warm bed.
‘Don’t be a wuss, Violet. You’re doing the right thing. This way you won’t have to ever see Alice again. And your Uncle Kevin would be so proud. He travelled the whole world. The least you can do is see a bit more of England.’
He’s right. Flint always makes me feel better. He climbs up the rickety steps first, turns around at the top and violently jerks his head for me to follow. I do as I’m told.
Tim is waiting, rubbing his hands together. He clears his throat. ‘Hi guys.’
Why does he sound nervous? And he’s a bit out of breath. I hand him a sandwich and he smiles before wolfing it down.
‘You’re decent to me, Violet,’ he says. ‘And I hope one day you’ll realise that I’ve only ever wanted to be decent to you.’
What does that mean? I shiver – and it’s not from the cold.
Voices appear from the bottom of the stairs.
Voices I don’t know. Adult ones. Strangers’ ones.
My heartbeat sounds really loud in my ears. ‘Who’s that?’ I whisper.
‘Nice people,’ says Tim. ‘Nothing to worry about.’ He bites his nails.
My hands feel clammy in my gloves. I look around but Flint isn’t there. Where has he gone?
What’s happening? Footsteps sound on the wooden ladder. I suddenly need the toilet.
‘Tim? I don’t want to stay here anymore.’ My voice sounds all wobbly.
He smiles. ‘It’s okay, Violet. Everything’s going to be all right.’
For the first time in a while, I think good things about Mum. Her arms around me. Her warmth. Her closeness that smells of cooking and laundry.
Tim reaches out and takes my hand. He squeezes it. A woman’s face appears. She’s got crooked teeth and smells of cigarettes.
She looks scary.
‘May I come in?’ Without waiting, she ducks her head and crawls next to me. She sits down.
I feel as if I’ve done something really, really stupid. I try to run but my legs won’t move.
‘I want to go, I don’t like this treehouse anymore, don’t try to stop me,’ I shout.
Chapter 29
I’m lying in a bed. It feels softer than my own. I open my eyes. A crack in the curtains lends the room enough light for me to distinguish the detail. Books, make-up, joss sticks, posters of Shawn Mendes.
I’m in Irfan’s house. This room must belong to his eldest daughter. Farah went to a Mendes concert with her last year. I glance at the digital clock on the small pine table by my side. It is already ten o’clock.
I stare at the ceiling. It’s coming back to me now. Lenny leaving me in the backyard as I tried to stop crying. Farah appearing. Her arms around me. Her and Irfan bundling me into their car. A cup of tea before bed. Me being grateful for no questions. I look under the covers. Farah lent me one of Irfan’s shirts.
Someone knocks at the door and I sit up. Farah comes in. I shuffle up into a sitting position and another mug of tea finds its way into my hands.
‘How do you feel?’ she says.
‘I’m okay. Sorry about last night. I must have had too much to drink. I’ll go when I’ve finished this and—’
‘No,’ she says firmly. ‘You relax here for as long as you like. If you want anything to eat just let me know. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.’ She turns to go.
I reach out my hand and tug on the bottom hem of her blouse. I recall doing that to Mum when she used to leave my room at night. I’d always beg for just one more story.
She sits on the bed.
‘Can you ever forgive me?’ I say. ‘Last night – Casey, Lenny, it’s made me realise – I’m so sorry if I’ve upset you.’
‘And I’m sorry for not realising just how hard it hit you – about Lenny and Beatrix. Whilst I was worried about this new regime of yours, I don’t think I fully understood just how much… how much you’ve been struggling.’
‘I’ve messed everything up,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t even know who I am anymore. I thought I was so empowered, taking charge of my life and turning it around, but now I’m not so sure.’
Farah takes my hand. ‘I’ve never talked to you much about my life before meeting Irfan.’
‘You grew up in Leicester, didn’t you?’
‘Yes – although, as you know, I was born in Pakistan. We moved here when I was six. I loved growing up in Leicester. It’s home to the widest number of religions of all the cities in this country. I really felt at one with the diversity. I got a job in a coffee shop in the sixth form and went clubbing with colleagues. My parents were great. They understood that I needed to embrace English culture in order to be happy and make friends. Yet I knew it was always part of their plan that one day I would have an arranged marriage. As I got older, we would have trips back to Pakistan. Very sociable ones where I met extended family and respected locals. My parents did their best to compromise and let me go to university. I moved back home for a while afterwards. My idea was to save and become financially independent.’
I nod.
‘I loved – do love – my parents very much and had managed to swerve the subject of an arranged marriage for years. However, the pressure really started when my older sister got married. Everyone kept saying I was next, but I wasn’t interested. At the same time I didn’t want to disappoint my parents. I saw the joy my sister’s union had brought them and they were so thrilled when the family of a successful businessman, Adeeb, showed an interest. I just couldn’t bear to let Mum and Dad down and somehow found myself pretending to go along with it.’
‘But you didn’t love him?’
‘No. He was a kind man, but not my type. He didn’t even read novels.’
We exchanged looks and both managed a smile. I took a mouthful of the strong tea.
‘The pretence started to take its toll – the weeks of acting as if I was this perfect daughter, happy to do things the traditional way. I’d stopped eating all the Western junk food and drinking alcohol. My dress style became more modest. I was only a size ten back then.’
Heat flushes into my cheeks. ‘Farah, I never meant—’
She pats my arm. ‘All I’m saying is, I modelled myself to be the perfect obedient, pretty-little-wife material. Over time, I became fond of the man Adeeb, but just as friends, and the deceit started to eat away at me even more. We didn’t meet often. He still lived in Pakistan, but when we did, I play-acted with him too. Things had gone so far I didn’t know how to call things off. I didn’t know how to tell him or my parents that I wanted a career and my own flat – that I wasn’t ready to settle down yet and when I did, that I wanted to choose my own partner. I just wanted to be myself.’
‘What happened?’
Farah smooths down the duvet. ‘I had a breakdown. Ended up in hospital. I didn’t know who I was anymore… just like you now. Mum and Dad were horrified.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m so lucky that all they wanted was for me to get better – even if that meant the marriage being called off. That was a massive thing for them and I’ll never forget it. And Adeeb was very understanding. I think he felt the same way too. He works in Dubai now and is married.’ She pauses. ‘The thing is, Violet – all the time I was pretending, I thought of myself as doing the right thing and being so strong and such the role model daughter. But I was living a lie. It nearly killed me.’
‘How come you’ve never talked about this before?’
‘Because it’s a part of my life I don’t care to remember. And it’s so long ago. I can’t relate to being that person anymore. These days, it sounds corny, but I just follow my heart. I eat too much. I’m not always smartly dressed. I enjoy a glass – or three – of wine. I have my own bank account.
I’m not perfect, by any means, but my head’s straight because I’m being true to myself.’
She takes my tea and puts it on the table next to the digital clock. She leans forward and embraces me.
‘That’s all that matters, Violet, that your conscience is happy. It’ll tell you if it’s not. Anyone else’s opinion of what you should look like or how you should behave is irrelevant. That includes this Bella, even if she is trying to help. Perhaps if I met her and—’
I shake my head violently.
The doorbell rings. Farah backs off about meeting my friend and instead we chat about the party. Someone knocks at the door. Irfan.
‘Everything okay in here?’
Farah and I nod.
‘Violet, you’ve got a visitor. Apparently Lenny went to your flat to find her.’
2001
‘Violet, please don’t be scared, I’m here to help.’
I stop shouting and my breathing slows a little. At least the woman sounds friendlier than she looks. I clasp my hands together. Must be brave. Must be my own hero.
She loosens her collar. The uniform doesn’t look very comfortable. ‘In fact, we can take you home right now.’
‘Home?’ I stare at Tim. ‘You said you were my friend. Now I’ll get into trouble.’
‘Tim did the right thing,’ says the police officer. ‘It’s very dangerous out here at night. And your mum would have been so panicked, finding out that you’d gone.’
‘No she wouldn’t,’ I mumble. ‘She’s got Ryan.’
‘Violet. I’m sorry,’ says Tim. ‘You’re a great little girl, but this is for the best. I thought about it all day. I was just going to do a runner. But I’d have been worried knowing that you were here, on your own, waiting for me. I went down to the police station and then ran all the way back here so that you weren’t on your own if you got here early and the police or your mum hadn’t arrived. One day, you’ll understand – I promise.’
‘Adults’ promises don’t mean much. Uncle Kevin promised he’d be home at Christmas.’
The police officer jerks her head. ‘Come on. My colleague, Paul, he’s waiting for you down on the ground. He’s just spoken to your mum who can’t wait to see you. She’s really worried.’
‘I’m going to get told off.’ Tears slide down my face.
‘No, you aren’t,’ she says softly. ‘Your mum will just be really pleased to have you back safely.’
The police officer tells me her name is Clare and takes my rucksack whilst I climb down the ladder. The man called Paul helps me down the last few steps. Flint’s not around. I’ll have to wait until I see him tomorrow and ask where he went.
Clare says something to Tim about him going to the station with one of her friends and making a statement. The police would then find him a hostel. I wonder if that’s something Tim’s lost.
Tim gives me a quick hug. As usual he smells. I don’t mind. Never have. I thought he was my friend, but I’m on my own again. Apart from Flint.
‘Take care,’ he says. ‘Things will get better. Your life won’t always be like this.’
Clare and Paul take me home. Mum must have rung Ryan. He’s waiting in the hallway when I walk in. I stare at the floor, waiting for angry words. I say it was Flint’s fault. That he persuaded me to do it. I feel bad but I bet his mum’s so cool she won’t be cross.
Instead of telling me off, Mum’s crying and I can hardly understand what she’s saying. She gives me the tightest hug and tells me how much she loves me. She asks Ryan to make hot chocolate.
Ryan crouches on his knees and stares me straight in the face.
He’s been crying too.
I don’t know what to say.
He pulls off my woolly hat and says what a sensible girl I was to dress up warmly. He asks if I want a biscuit with my drink as a special treat. I nod.
Clare and I go into the lounge. There is another woman there from something called Social Services. I have to sit with her on my own for a minute. She asks me about the bruises. About Mum hitting me.
Apparently Tim thought I was making it up. Over the last two weeks, I’ve talked to him about Alice and he worked out it was her and her friends.
But for some reason the woman has to hear me say that it wasn’t Mum.
I do. She believes me. Not long after that, she leaves but we might have to meet again.
Secretly I’m glad to be home again. Mum ran me a bath using her fancy bubbles. I’m glad until she tucks me up in bed and says tomorrow we need to talk about Flint. And that she’ll be making an appointment with someone next week who will make me realise that Flint isn’t really a good friend at all.
Chapter 30
There is a chair in front of the dressing table. Farah pulls it over to my bedside. She and Irfan leave. Kath sits down. She takes off her summer rain jacket and puts her handbag on the floor.
‘Lenny actually came to get you?’
‘He was looking for Bella. He came up and asked if I knew where she was. He thought she might be able to help you.’ Kath moves to get comfortable. ‘Lenny seems very worried, and determined to help sort things out. On the way over, he told me how much he’d valued your relationship and that he was mortified at how badly he’d behaved back in February. He didn’t look well. I don’t think he could have slept much last night.’
I couldn’t cope with the idea of Lenny actually caring about me. Not at the moment. It was all too much to take in.
‘Last night, did you enjoy your birthday buffet? I know you were looking forward to having everyone around.’
‘Yes. We missed you though. I believe your big bash last night – things didn’t go to plan.’
I shrug.
‘What went wrong?’
I start slowly, but soon, word by word it all pours out. How Beatrix hadn’t chased Lenny from the start. How Casey thought I was only using him. How both Thoth and Alpaca had lost the chance to publish Alien Hearts.
‘Is there any chance with Casey? What if you—’
‘I don’t think so and I just can’t face seeing him again. Not now.’
I’d forgotten what a great listener Kath is.
‘Thanks for coming by,’ I say. ‘But I’d better get back. Bella will be wondering—’
‘No.’ Kath raises her voice. ‘Violet. Stop that.’
My eyes tingle.
‘I know her secret.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ I lift the tea mug to my lips, hoping it hides my face. I feel sick. My pulse quickens.
‘You want me to say it?’
‘No!’ I slam the mug down on the bedside table. Tea spills over the sides.
‘That time I went in because Flossie was caterwauling—’ Kath carries on as if she didn’t hear me.
‘Speaking of which, I’d really better go.’ I twist the duvet between my fingers. ‘Flossie might be upset again.’
‘All the clothes in Bella’s room,’ continues Kath. ‘They’ve still got the labels on. The shoes haven’t been worn. The make-up is still sealed. The bedsheets looked fresh.’
‘Stop. I’m not listening. You don’t know what you are talking about.’ I pull the duvet up high and bury my face in it. A sense of dread fills my chest. The same dread that engulfed me when Mum used to take me to see someone to talk about Flint.
‘Violet, you’ve got to face this. Bella isn’t your flatmate. She doesn’t work at a spa.’
I pull the duvet away. My hands curl into fists. ‘Shut up! Yes she does!’
‘Bella isn’t real,’ said Kath, quietly. ‘She doesn’t exist.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! Of course she does. What a thing to say. We’ve gone to the cinema together. Drunk coffee. Shopped. Laughed. She‘s taught me how to cook healthy food and shown me all sorts of websites for my new lifestyle.’
‘Is that where you first heard about Bella? On a website?’ she asks gently.
I open my mouth to remonstrate but something catches in my throat.
�
�Tell me, darling. Tell me the truth. Don’t carry this alone any longer.’ Kath’s eyes glisten.
I realise my hands are covering my face.
It’s the secret. Bella’s secret, which I’ve kept for months.
‘Was she originally called Ana?’
I part my fingers so that I can see Kath through the gaps.
‘You know I used to work in mental health. For six months, I worked in the eating disorders wing. We didn’t let the patients go on the internet. The anorexics used to log onto websites that revered their illness and called it Ana, as if she were a best friend.’
I hear a whimper and realise it came from me.
‘It’s okay, Violet. I… I understand. I only want to help. Why call her Bella?’
My hands drop. I gag. Quickly Kath passes her handkerchief. I hold it to my mouth. Bile shoots into it.
I wipe my lips and we sit in silence, the secret hanging between us, between our friendship.
The secret that I realise made me sick.
‘Ana… it sounded too abrupt and ugly,’ I whisper. ‘So I thought Anabella was more fitting – and then that give me the idea of Bella, meaning beautiful. It was perfect.’
I stare at Kath, bottom lip trembling.
Her forehead relaxes. ‘Well done, love.’
‘What for?’
‘Admitting that. Facing up to the fact that Bella, she… she isn’t real.’
I rock to and fro. ‘I want her to be. I need her. I can’t manage on my own.’
‘Oh, darling, she’s not good – you must know you’ve lost too much weight.’
‘It gives me a high and I thought looking this way would make me happy.’
‘Has it?’
At first, yes. But eventually? No. Quite the opposite.
‘I want you to think about going to the doctor. I’ll go with you, love. I can even make the appointment if—’
‘No. No, I won’t go through that again.’
‘This has happened before?’
We don’t speak for a while. Not until tears clear and I utter the F word.
‘Flint. After my Uncle Kevin died – he helped me stand up to the bullies at school. I didn’t feel so alone with him.’
Knowing You Page 21