‘Looks like I’m just in time,’ she said when I opened the door. She gave me a gappy grin and nodded to the kettle as she stepped inside without being asked. ‘Seeing as you never came round for that cuppa, I thought I’d do the honours instead.’
‘Oh right,’ I said tightly. ‘Thing is, Sal, Mum’s just taken Evie for a couple of hours and I’ve got loads of unpacking still left to do.’
‘I’ll help you,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I don’t mind, I’m at a loose end all day.’
She and both her sons were at a loose end every day, from what I could see.
‘Thanks but there’s no need,’ I said firmly, imagining the horror of being stuck with her for hours on end, with no escape. ‘But I can take ten minutes out for a chat.’
‘So,’ she said as I put two steaming mugs of coffee down on the table. ‘I hear you met our Col the other day?’
‘Yes,’ I said, imagining the names he’d probably called me. This was my chance to tell Sal the truth. ‘Did he tell you what happened?’
She took a noisy slurp of her coffee and nodded, grinning at me. ‘Gave you a fright, I hear.’
‘Actually, Sal, he really did.’ Something clawed at the inside of my throat. ‘I really thought Evie had gone. I didn’t know what the hell had happened to her.’
‘Yeah, but he said you’d left her on her own all morning, love.’
‘Rubbish!’ How dare she come round here, virtually accusing me of neglect. ‘I was upstairs, that’s all. I’ve still got loads to do up there and—’
‘Your little ’un told our Col you were still in bed, said she couldn’t wake you.’
The thought of her slimy son questioning my daughter made me feel sick to my stomach.
‘Well, she was mistaken.’ Her eyes flicked to my hands and I realised I was gripping the edge of the table like a vice. I wiggled my fingers to relax them. ‘I’d got a bit of a headache, that’s all. I was just having a lie down, I wasn’t asleep.’
‘Ahh, I see. Kids, what’re they like, eh? They tell you anything.’
The last thing I wanted was a confrontation but it was important to make my position crystal clear. This was my chance.
‘More to the point, Sal, Colin should never have encouraged Evie to come over to your side without checking with me first,’ I remarked. ‘That was really irresponsible of him. People could get the wrong idea.’
Her face darkened and the good-natured grin slipped.
‘What are you trying to say?’
I swallowed. ‘I’m just saying, a grown man taking a five-year-old girl without her mother’s permission might not look good to—’
She slammed her hand down flat on the table and I jumped up from my seat. She was reducing me to a bag of nerves in my own home.
‘Enough of that. You can just shut your mouth,’ she hissed. ‘Our Col has enough fucking trouble from the coppers without you starting to spread your vile lies.’
‘Sal, I’m not saying Colin was up to no good.’ I sat down again, pressing the air with my hands as I tried to placate her. ‘I’m just saying it doesn’t look very good. All he had to do was tell me—’
‘You were out of it, drugged up in bed.’
‘I told you, I was just having a lie down—’
‘You were out of it.’ Her eyes flashed in slight hesitation and then spite got the better of her. ‘I know that because our Col couldn’t wake you up.’
A cold chill crept up my back. A second or two of silence stretched between us as the meaning of her words dawned on me.
When I spoke, my voice was shaking. ‘Are you telling me he came into my bedroom?’ I stood up, placing my fingertips on the table to steady myself.
She pressed her lips together, smug and accomplished.
‘You’d better go,’ I said, with as much dignity as I could muster. ‘And you can tell your son, if he ever sets foot inside my house again, I’ll ring the police.’
She stood up and purposely let her mug drop to the floor, coffee and smashed shards spattering to the furthest corners of the room.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ I yelped, stepping back to protect my bare feet. The woman was a maniac.
‘Don’t even think of trying to cause trouble with the coppers, love.’ She waved her phone at me with a menacing look. ‘Or someone might just have to show ’em why your kid was on her own for hours on end. It’s all on here. You should be thanking our Col. She could’ve run out onto that main road, or fell down the stairs.’
I opened my mouth in retort but found there were no words waiting to be spat out in reply.
There was absolutely nothing I could say to defend myself.
42
Three Years Earlier
Toni
I stood, silent and rooted to the spot, as Sal stormed out. The door crashed shut behind her so violently that I didn’t know how the glass remained intact. Fury at the thought of her creepy convict son intruding into my house had already morphed into acute embarrassment and shame. How long had he stayed in my bedroom? How many pictures or videos did he take of me in that state? What if he’d . . . I could hardly bear to think the words . . . touched me?
My head fell forward and I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt my fingernails push deep into my palms.
How could I have allowed this to happen?
He could have done anything to me or my daughter. How fucking dare he?
Why on earth hadn’t Evie mentioned anything about him coming into the house?
I opened my eyes and walked over to the window. Pulling down the blinds, I locked the back door and went into the sitting room. In there, I closed the curtains, leaving just enough of a gap to let a little bit of light in. Without thinking, I picked up my phone and called Tara. I needed to speak to someone; needed to offload before I exploded.
My heart sank when the call went straight to Tara’s voicemail. I should have just ended the call but before I could think better of it, a torrent of anguished words poured out of my mouth and down the line.
I ranted about Bryony at work, Evie at school and about Colin the creep from next door. I was just about to embark on Mum’s attitude when a disembodied voice announced the voicemail was now full. I hadn’t even had a chance to ask how Tara was feeling.
I tossed my phone aside, annoyed at my own neediness.
A strong urge to hide away in the dark and never come out washed over me.
I grabbed my handbag and before I could think better of it, swallowed two tablets with cold tea I found in a mug on the floor, praying they’d work quicker than usual.
I felt desperate for a few hours of blissful oblivion. I couldn’t face the thoughts and possibilities that were ricocheting around my head.
A man in the house with my daughter, while I was sleeping. While I was completely out of it.
Before sinking down onto the couch, I remembered Mum’s sharp comment about cleaning up the mess. I snapped on the light and peered into the corner by the chair. My hand flew to my mouth and I stood for a few moments, blinking hard and trying in vain to process the evidence in front of me.
Two months before he died, Andrew had bought me an exquisite crystal glass vase for our tenth wedding anniversary. He’d had it engraved with our names and the date of our big day and I treasured it as the last thing he gave to me.
Now it lay in pieces in the corner of the room, broken beyond any hope of repair.
Only yesterday, I had carefully peeled off copious amounts of bubble wrap, washed it gently by hand and set it down by the fireplace.
That, I could remember. But how it got broken was a complete mystery.
Yet when I looked down at the splintered shards of crystal, I found myself flinching.
I took a step back. Something wasn’t right.
I was beginning to realise that little pieces were missing, ripped here and there from my memory, like sticking plasters, leaving smooth gaps of time that remained a mystery.
My hands began to shake.
I rushed upstairs to the bathroom, hung over the loo and stuck my fingers down my throat.