‘Anyway, enough about that. I’d like to get to know you a little better, Evie. You can start by telling me all about your friends at your old school.’
Evie popped another grape in her mouth and took her time chewing it.
‘I’d like to know their names and the sorts of things you used to do together.’
‘My best friends are Daisy, Nico and Martha,’ said Evie, perking up a bit. ‘We used to play together at break and eat our lunch together. And we sat next to each other at story time, too.’
‘How lovely,’ Harriet remarked. ‘You said they are your best friends but they’re not, anymore, are they?’
‘They are,’ Evie replied swiftly. ‘They are my best friends.’
‘But you never see them. They live back in Hemel Hempstead.’ Harriet’s voice dropped lower. ‘I heard they have a new little girl as their friend now. I’m afraid she took your place when you moved house.’
‘They’re still my friends.’ Evie pushed away the bowl of fruit. ‘Mummy says we might go and see them soon.’
‘Oh, I think Mummy might just be saying that to make you feel better.’ Harriet smiled. ‘She’s always promising things that never quite happen, isn’t she?’
Evie thought for a moment but she didn’t respond.
‘You see, it’s no use getting upset about losing your friends, because you left them, didn’t you? You left all your friends behind to come and live here, in Nottingham.’
‘I didn’t want to,’ Evie said, knotting her fingers together on top of the desk. ‘I didn’t want to live at Muriel Crescent.’
‘But Mummy wouldn’t listen, would she?’
Evie looked at Harriet, a mournful expression on her face.
‘And neither would your Nanny,’ Harriet went on. ‘It was all your Nanny’s idea, you know, taking you away from your friends and moving you up here. Did you know that?’
Evie gave a slight shake of her head and stared down at her fidgeting hands.
‘Mummy and Nanny don’t tell you things because they think you’re just a silly little girl,’ Harriet told her. ‘But I will tell you the truth, Evie. I am your friend and you can always trust me because I know what’s best for you.’
Evie didn’t speak.
‘Do you understand? I am your friend and you can tell me anything you like in our little sessions together.’ Harriet crossed her chest. ‘I won’t tell anyone what you say, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. Do you promise, too?’
Evie sat very still and then nodded.
‘Pardon?’
‘Yes.’
‘Because if you’re a very good girl, I might be able to get your friends to come up to Nottingham and see you,’ Harriet said brightly. ‘Would you like that?’
Evie nodded.
‘Sorry?’ Harriet cupped her ear.
‘Yes, Miss Watson.’
‘Excellent. Now, tell me about Mummy’s friends.’
Evie began to hum.
‘Kindly stop playing with your fingers and look at me.’
Evie spread out her palms and pressed them into the table. She looked up at Harriet. ‘She just has Nanny.’
‘There are no friends who Mummy meets for coffee or who come to the house to chat with her?’
Evie considered this and shook her head. ‘Just Nanny.’
‘And did Mummy have friends when you lived at your old house?’
Evie nodded. ‘Paula and Tara.’
‘Paula and Tara,’ Harriet repeated. ‘But Mummy doesn’t see them anymore?’
‘No. She hasn’t got any friends anymore, just Nanny.’
‘Perfect.’ Harriet smiled. ‘Well, isn’t this nice, chatting together, just you and me?’
‘Yes,’ Evie replied blankly.
‘Perhaps I could be Mummy and Nanny’s friend too.’
‘Nanny doesn’t like you,’ Evie said quickly. ‘Because you’re over a bear ring.’
‘Is that what she says?’ Harriet’s smile fell away. ‘Overbearing? Now, that is interesting. And did Nanny say anything else about me?’
‘She said you weren’t a proper teacher like Miss Akhtar.’
‘I’m afraid that’s a common error lots of people make,’ Harriet said, tapping her fingertips on the table. ‘But I am a proper teacher. You know that, don’t you, Evie?’
Evie studied Miss Watson’s steely eyes and the taut curve of her mouth that was supposed to look like a smile but didn’t.
‘Yes,’ she said.
46
Three Years Earlier
Toni
I turned the car into Muriel Crescent, but instead of pulling up outside the house, I drove around the full crescent, which wasn’t very big, and slowed outside number sixty-one. All the blinds were pulled down and even though there was no to-let sign up, it did have a vacant look about it: nothing on the windowsills, a free newspaper sticking out of the letterbox and the tiny patch of front lawn was slightly overgrown.
Whoever had snapped up the property before it even came onto the market obviously hadn’t moved in yet.
I executed a sloppy three-point turn in the road, briefly holding up a black Audi with heavily tinted windows that had just turned into the crescent. Even though I couldn’t see the driver through the darkened glass, I raised my hand in apology, but the car motored by at speed as if to make a point, as if they were furious to be delayed for even twenty seconds.
As soon as I got through the door, I said hello to Evie, kissing the top of her head. She grunted, already engrossed in building a Lego structure.
Mum put down the TV guide she’d been reading, stood up and scooped up her car keys and coat.
‘There’s no need for you to rush off,’ I said, although I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for making amends, especially when Mum was obviously still in a mood. ‘Unless you’ve got somewhere you need to be?’
She stopped for a moment and stared straight ahead, as though she was having an internal battle. Then she put down her coat. ‘I’ll have a quick drink with you.’ She followed me into the kitchen, placing her car keys on the worktop. ‘I’ll be truthful, Toni, I’m finding it difficult to be around you. I’m worried about the signs I’m seeing but you don’t want to listen.’
Not this again; we’d already discussed it to death. I filled the kettle and turned it on at the wall.
‘I do listen, Mum,’ I sighed. ‘I agree that Evie’s been a bit withdrawn but she’ll soon come out the other side again. She’s had some big changes to deal with, it’s a natural reaction.’
‘I’m not talking about Evie,’ Mum said. ‘I’m talking about you.’
I stopped reaching up into the cupboard for mugs and looked at her.
‘You keep forgetting things and you fly off the handle at the slightest thing.’
‘Have you got an example?’ I challenged her. Talk about exaggerating, Mum was an expert at it.
‘Well, you’ve told me the wrong times for picking Evie up, for starters.’
‘No, I think the school – Harriet Watson – gave me the wrong times to begin with.’
‘And then you lose your temper and forget you’ve done it,’ Mum continued, ignoring my line of defence. ‘Like when you threw that vase at the wall because the television was on too loud and woke you up. You need to go to see the doctor, Toni, it’s not natural you being so tired and irritable all the time. Sometimes you can barely focus and that’s not fair on Evie.’
Something gripped at me hard inside my chest. For a few seconds I couldn’t say anything. I knew I’d come to a crossroads. This was my chance to admit to Mum I’d been relying on the sedatives to cope.
This was my chance to ask for her help and support.
I almost opened my mouth and told her, I almost did. But then my mind presented me with flash-forward images of Mum fretting about me and Evie, losing sleep and badgering me to throw the tablets away and see the doctor. I couldn’t handle all the drama that would ensue. I just didn’t have the energy for it.
‘Look, it’s been hard for all of us,’ I said, trying to change the subject.
‘I know how much that vase meant to you,’ Mum pressed. ‘That reaction, it wasn’t you, love. What’s going on?’
‘You weren’t here when I threw the vase.’ I was hedging my bets, as I had no memory of whether she was here or not.