Single Mother

by Samantha Hayes

  ‘Down there, look,’ Mel says, pointing to the section of trench that’s approaching the ninety-degree turn where the extension wall will cut across parallel to the rear of the hotel. ‘If you look, about a foot up from the concrete, you can see the bones lying facing out. It’s as if… as if…’ She can’t bring herself to say, It’s as if the baby had been buried in its sleep…

  There’s silence for a moment as the officers retrieve their torches and shine two cones of light into the ground. They mumble a couple of things between them, and PC Gordon turns down her radio volume as it crackles at her shoulder.

  ‘Am I looking at the right thing?’ PC Latch says. Then he draws in a sharp breath. ‘Oh right, OK, yes… I see.’ He steps back, straightening himself up for a moment. But PC Gordon is still peering into the trench, shining her torch all around.

  ‘Are you sure it’s not a cat or a dog, or some other pet? It’s quite hard to tell.’ She stares down intently, squinting and tilting her head from side to side.

  ‘To my mind, I don’t think there’s any mistaking it’s human remains,’ Tom says. ‘A very tiny human. I googled examples of pet skeletons, and I’m afraid this is very different.’

  Mel takes a step or two closer to the trench, steeling herself to take another look, in case she can convince herself that the skull is indeed that of a small dog or cat. Or maybe even a rabbit. Her eyes scan over the dry soil, carved away cleanly by the bucket of the mini digger, apart from the area where the girls were scratching around with their trowels. It takes a moment for her brain to spot what she’s seeing, but when she focuses again, her heart sinks.

  There’s no mistaking it’s human.

  As Tom talks to the other officer, PC Gordon straightens up and flicks off her torch, walking away from the footings to make a call on her radio. Mel hears something about suspected human remains, about CID, about building works being halted and photographs being sent to experts. She cups her face in her hands, exhaling hard. Nothing in her life makes sense any more.

  Thirty-Two

  ‘So,’ PC Latch says, leaning forward in an attempt to seem less intimidating. At least that’s what Mel supposes he’s trying to do as she studies his expression – him sitting opposite Kate and Chloe, the pair of them nestled together on the banquette in the now-empty bar area. Nikki had finally coaxed the few customers home, Mel noticed thankfully when they’d come back inside. And, after as much of an inspection as the officers could do visually outside, given that the light was fading fast, they’d asked to have a few words with the girls. Or the budding archaeologists, as PC Gordon had put it.

  ‘You were both looking for fossils?’ PC Latch continues.

  Chloe nods earnestly, sweeping back her fiery hair. Then she scratches her nose, wrinkling it up. ‘Yes, we found loads. Perfect conditions,’ she adds in an authoritative voice.

  Kate sits perfectly still, slightly hunched.

  ‘Perfect conditions for?’ PC Gordon asks, a notebook on her lap as the officers perch on the newly painted stools.

  ‘Digging, of course,’ Chloe says, shrugging. ‘Not too much rainfall recently, but just enough so that the ground wasn’t like stone. And that bulldozer thing had done half the job for us. It was like… like…’ She swishes back her hair again, sticking out her chin. ‘Like finding buried treasure.’

  Mel watches Chloe, wondering why she seems about five years older than Kate, who’s sitting there, limp and mute. Perhaps if Chloe kept quiet for a moment, she thinks, Kate could get a word in. Mel presses her palms together in her lap.

  ‘Kate, love?’ Mel says as the officers make notes. ‘What do you remember happened?’

  Kate stares at the carpet. Her eyes appear vacant – almost non-human, like the soil-filled sockets of the tiny skull. Mel shudders.

  ‘Darling?’ She reaches forward and strokes her daughter’s knee. ‘Talk to me, sweetheart.’ She touches Kate under the chin, gently trying to tilt her head up. But she’s rigid.

  ‘Did you find any other bones in your… dig?’ PC Gordon asks in a voice more suited to talking to five-year-olds. ‘And did you put them in your little bucket?’

  ‘What?’ Chloe says, whipping out her phone from her pocket when it pings with a message. ‘We have an artefacts container. Not a little bucket. We photograph, measure and label everything we find.’ She taps out a reply on her phone then looks the officer straight in the eye. ‘And no. We didn’t find any other bones. As soon as we spotted the skeleton, we stopped digging. Well, actually, Kate started screaming.’

  ‘I see, and—’

  ‘Will we get a reward? Like, if we’ve discovered a murder or a Viking burial or something? What if there’s a hoard there too? Like a load of gold coins and ancient jewellery. Do we get to keep it? What if—?’

  ‘Let’s take it one step at a time, shall we?’ PC Gordon says, her eyes narrowing with her smile. ‘Do you have any pictures of the… of the skel… of the bones on your phone?’

  ‘Yeah, loads,’ Chloe says, whipping her device back out of her pocket again just as it pings. She laughs as she reads whatever’s on the screen. ‘Can a couple of my other friends come over to look at the skeleton, Mrs Douglas? They said it’s super-cool.’

  ‘What?’ Mel says, horrified. ‘You’ve told your friends?’

  Chloe shrugs. ‘No. They saw my Insta post.’ Then she holds the screen in front of the officers. ‘Look, this is Katie just as we’re about to start digging.’ Chloe swipes left a couple of times. ‘Ha ha, look. She’s being silly here.’

  Mel leans forward, something warm stirring inside her as she sees her daughter mid-star jump over the trench. Chloe must have been standing down on the concrete footings, looking upwards as she took the photo.

  ‘Posing as ever,’ Chloe says, nudging Kate, who looks as though she might topple off her seat if she’s pushed any harder. Chloe swipes forward through a couple more pictures.

  ‘Stop, wait,’ Mel says, leaning in closer. ‘Go back a photo or two.’

  ‘But I’ve got some of the bones and—’

  ‘Go back,’ Mel insists.

  Chloe does as she’s told.

  ‘There, that one. Can you enlarge it?’ It’s the picture of Kate doing the star jump. Mel takes Chloe’s phone off her and zooms in so she can see a close-up of Kate’s side, but also the windows at the back of the hotel.

  ‘It’s a photo burst,’ Chloe says. ‘Cool, eh?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Mel asks.

  ‘Look,’ Chloe says, taking back her phone. She presses and holds the screen and suddenly a stream of consecutive pictures flashes up, reminding Mel of the cartoon flipbooks she made as a kid.

  ‘There!’ Mel says as she watches Chloe speed through the burst for a second time. ‘Did you see her?’ Mel glances up at Tom, who’s standing over them, also watching. ‘Miss Sarah was at the window. And she had her arm up, as if she was tapping on the glass.’

  ‘Tapping?’ Tom says, leaning in and taking hold of Chloe’s phone. ‘May I?’ he asks as the girl relinquishes it. ‘I’d say it looks more like she’s banging on it.’

  ‘Mrs Douglas?’

  Mel whips her head up, not realising that she’d fallen asleep until she’s woken by the voice. As she sits up, she feels a sore patch on her forehead where she’d rested it on the table in the bar, half cradling it on her arms as she’d leant down and drifted off. Combined with the shock of earlier, the shot of brandy she’d had after the police left had contributed to her dozing off.

  ‘Hi, Chloe. Is everything OK?’

  The girl’s expression is a mix of caution and concern. Her copper hair is in two thick plaits and she’s wearing pale pyjamas with penguins printed all over. Suddenly, she doesn’t seem like the overconfident twelve-year-old going on eighteen any more.

  ‘Katie’s asleep,’ she says, coming a little closer to the banquette where Mel had dropped down, exhausted, after Tom had left.

  Did I even thank him properly for the meal? Mel tries
to remember. She thinks she must have, but with all the talk of CID investigators coming tomorrow, about experts from the university and exhumation paperwork, she can’t be sure. Her mind is all over the place.

  ‘That’s good,’ Mel says, stretching. ‘But you can’t sleep?’

  Chloe shakes her head, clasping her hands in front of her and shifting from one foot to the other.

  ‘Hot milk?’ Mel suggests. The girl nods and follows Mel into the kitchen.

  ‘Mrs Douglas,’ Chloe says in a questioning voice, chewing on a nail, ‘how bad is it if… if I tell you stuff that Kate told me.’

  Mel turns to face her, one hand on the pan of warming milk. ‘Ok-ay…’ she says slowly. ‘That depends on what it is, I guess.’

  ‘I mean, it’s not like she told me not to tell anyone. But… well…’ For a moment, Chloe focuses only on her finger, then she stares at the ceiling as she gnaws.

  ‘What kind of stuff?’ Mel asks, coming over to where she’s perched on the stool. ‘I know she’s very upset about earlier. I’m glad she’s been able to talk to you about it.’

  ‘No, no, it’s not about that. She still hasn’t said a word. It was the other day. Something about… about a man.’ Chloe removes her finger from her mouth, inspecting it before folding her arms.

  Billy…? Mel thinks, her heart beating fast. Has Kate been confiding in Chloe about her dad? Has he contacted her again or, worse, maybe even found them?

  When it became clear that Kate wasn’t using the phone that Billy had given her any more, Mel had quietly taken care of it, hoping Kate wouldn’t notice it had gone. If Billy wanted to contact Kate, then he would have to get past her first. Or go through the courts. She knew court was the last place Billy wanted to be, so she’d kept the phone charged up in her bedside cupboard, checking it from time to time for texts or missed calls. So far there had been nothing.

  ‘A man? What man?’ Mel asks, sounding more abrupt than she’d intended. ‘It’s fine to tell me about it, Chloe,’ she says in a more encouraging tone.

  ‘A bad man,’ Chloe replies, shaking her head. ‘He did bad things to… to someone. A relative, she said. It really upset her.’

  It certainly sounds like Billy, Mel thinks, wondering if Kate is confiding in Chloe without actually confiding. Talking to a friend about a previous trauma is natural, but knowing Kate, she wouldn’t want to be specific, would be ashamed of the details. The poor kid is torn between loving her dad and despising him.

  ‘Do you know the man’s name, Chloe?’ Mel asks.

  Chloe shakes her head. ‘She wouldn’t say. But she said she spotted him down in the village.’

  In the village? Mel thinks, wondering when this was. Perhaps after the school bus dropped her off one afternoon, when she was walking home. Kate’s not allowed out alone otherwise.

  ‘Do you know if he spoke to Kate? If he saw her?’

  Chloe shakes her head. ‘Kate said she was spying on him. That she followed him.’ She bites at her nail again for a moment. ‘Thing is, Mrs Douglas, well… I really like Kate. She’s my bestie now and I don’t want to be a snitch.’ She lets out a little whimper. ‘But my mum’s always going on at me to keep away from strangers and stuff.’

  Mel strokes Chloe’s shoulder. ‘No one’s going to think you’re a snitch, Chloe. You’ve done the right thing by telling me.’

  Chloe nods, letting out a little hiccup. ‘Kate said she wants to get revenge for what he did. I’m scared for her.’

  ‘What he did? Who to?’ Mel says, her eyes widening. So many questions, but she doesn’t want to make her clam up either. ‘And what does she mean by revenge, Chloe?’

  ‘She said he’d hurt people for too long.’ Chloe shrugs, making a pained expression. ‘She said he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it any more. She, like, got really upset about it.’

  ‘I see,’ Mel says, her mind joining the dots. ‘I’m really pleased you told me this.’

  Chloe nods, a troubled look on her face. ‘And… and the other thing…’ she continues, sniffing and rubbing her eyes from tiredness. ‘That weird woman upstairs, Kate says she knows about it, too. That they’ve been talking.’

  And before Mel can ask anything else, she hears hissing and spitting on the stove behind her as the milk pan boils over.

  Thirty-Three

  Mel takes a breath and knocks sharply on the door. She’s barely slept a wink – her mind racing all night long. After she’d settled Chloe back into bed and checked that Kate was comfortable and sleeping, she’d had a bath, tried to unwind, but she couldn’t. She’d maybe managed forty-five minutes, perhaps an hour of dozing, then watched it get light before giving in and getting up.

  When there’s no answer, she knocks again and turns the door handle. But, unlike before, room twelve is now locked. Already armed with the master key, Mel takes it from her pocket and unlocks it. She wants answers, and she wants them now.

  ‘Miss Sarah,’ she says, going right in – not caring if the woman is still asleep, sitting in her chair reading or even doing aerobics. Enough is enough. ‘I’m sorry for the intrusion, but we need to speak about—’

  Mel stops in her tracks, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The curtains are still drawn and Miss Sarah is sitting perfectly straight and still on the edge of her bed. Apart from her underwear, she is completely naked – her body pale and sinewy. Mel’s eyes are drawn to her stomach and thighs, both of which are covered in a map of thin, silvery scars.

  ‘Oh… I… I’m so sorry – I didn’t realise that…’ Mel knows there’s no viable excuse for barging in, but after what Chloe had told her last night, she couldn’t contain herself. ‘Perhaps we can talk later. It’s about Kate. I’m worried about her, and I think you…’ Mel trails off. ‘Oh, Miss Sarah,’ she says, spotting the tear slowly rolling down her cheek. ‘Look, I can see I’ve caught you at a really bad moment…’

  Mel looks around the room, spotting a dressing gown at the end of the bed. She reaches for it, doing a double take as she picks it up. Concealed beneath the robe is a laptop computer, it’s screen semi-open and glowing beneath. She hesitates for a moment, noticing that it looks like an older model, but is more concerned with Miss Sarah’s privacy. She drapes the cream-coloured gown around the woman’s shoulders, coaxing her to put her arms in, which she does. Mel loosely fastens it up with the belt.

  Then she surprises herself by sitting down on the bed next to her and gently rubbing her back. She can’t get the image of all those scars out of her mind, sensing that each of the faded lines criss-crossing her skin has a story to tell. She just can’t imagine what.

  ‘Miss Sarah, I know you don’t like talking, or perhaps find it difficult… but I do know that you and Kate have been chatting. I think that’s really nice, of course, and Kate is a lovely girl. But she’s been through a lot in her life, and I…’ Mel trails off, not knowing how to word it without betraying Chloe. ‘And I wouldn’t want her to be upset about things that are maybe best confided in me. Does that make sense?’

  Nothing. Silence. Miss Sarah stares straight ahead. The tear that was on her cheek has rolled down past her chin and dried in a salty streak.

  ‘Kate and I are close, and she tells me everything.’ Mel pauses, wondering how true that actually is. ‘And… well, I understand that she told you about someone she saw in the village. A man.’ Mel swallows. Waiting.

  Nothing.

  ‘This man, Kate’s dad, well, the thing is, she thinks that he deserves…’ Mel hesitates, unsure how much Kate has revealed to Miss Sarah. ‘Well, let’s put it this way. She’s really angry at him – for lots of reasons. That’s understandable, of course, but…’

  Mel trails off as an image of Kate standing in her and Billy’s bedroom doorway flashes through her mind. Billy, fuelled by rage, had Mel pinned down on the bed.

  ‘So I’d really appreciate…’ Mel continues, ‘…that if Kate has been confiding anything worrying to you, you could please let me know.’

&nbs
p; Nothing.

  Mel sighs, frustration brewing. ‘Look, I understand that you find it difficult to speak, Miss Sarah, but I think you’re going to have to. You’re living in my property now, yet I know nothing about you.’ Mel leans closer to the woman, putting her face in front of hers, in the hope it might elicit a reaction. But it doesn’t.

  ‘Fine,’ Mel says after a few moments waiting. ‘Then I’ll have to sort this mess out my way. You’ll be getting a letter from my solicitor. I’ll be looking into…’ Mel hesitates. She doesn’t want to use the word eviction, knowing how terrifying and disempowering it is. But then she’s also had enough of this woman. ‘Well, I’ll be looking into alternative housing arrangements for you.’

  She gets up and heads to the door, stopping and turning to face Miss Sarah. ‘If it helps, then write it down for me or something. Christ, draw a picture if you have to, but just communicate with me!’ She shakes her head, sighs and leaves the room just as Nikki is coming along the landing, a concerned expression on her face.

  ‘A man? What kind of man?’ Mel says, striding down the corridor with Nikki trotting beside her. ‘And what the hell does he want?’ The weekend hasn’t got off to a good start.

  If it’s Billy finally showing his hand, Mel thinks, then I’m in no mood for his games. He can go do one and I’ll take out a non-molestation order faster than he can say ‘prison’.

  ‘A man from the papers,’ Nikki says breathlessly. ‘He’s heard about… well, he asked me about a body.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ Mel mutters under her breath as she goes down the stairs, dreading to think what hashtags Chloe put on her Instagram post. When she gets down to reception, a young man is standing there, likely the local hack on his first assignment with the scent of blood in his nostrils by the looks of him.

  ‘Thanks, Nikki,’ Mel says. ‘I’ll take it from here.’ Nikki scuttles off into the bar with a grateful expression for being excused.