The Daughter

Simon can’t quite mask the hint of pride in his voice as he watches me absorb it all. Those are replica Old Masters, surely? ‘I’m in a meeting with the Dean at the moment over in his office in the Abbey, so I’m afraid we’ll have to be brief, but I’m certain we can achieve what we need to.’ He stands to one side as I walk in, closes the door behind me, turns and then allows his professional bonhomie to fall away. He just stands there looking astonished. ‘You came.’

I hold up a hand. ‘The first thing I need to know is, you didn’t do it, did you, Simon?’ It’s almost a throwaway comment – a disclaimer – because I don’t believe that he did, but actually he looks startled, almost shocked, and tries to re-compose himself. It stops me dead in my tracks.

He clears his throat. ‘Did I do what? I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about?’

‘Oh no…’ I whisper. It’s as if someone has just trickled icy cold water down my spine. I shiver and take a step back. ‘You do know what I’m talking about. I’ve defended you when all along…’ My hands fly up to my mouth. ‘I insisted you’d never do that to me… the clocks and the mirror were bad enough, but the climbing frame?’

‘I’m sorry?’ He looks completely blank. ‘What am I missing here?’

‘An exact replica of the climbing frame that Beth fell from was delivered to my house.’ I glance at the door. He is stood right between it and me.

Simon pales. ‘My God, Jess. That’s horrendous.’ Then his mouth falls open slightly. ‘Wait – you think I did that?’ He frowns worriedly. ‘That’s not like you, jumping to such wild conclusions. You’re obviously very shaken up. Come and sit down and tell me exactly what’s been going on.’ He speaks without anger and gestures to one of the chairs by the fire, before glancing at his watch and swearing under his breath. ‘Lord – I’ve got to get back to my meeting… but someone’s been targeting you?’

He looks genuinely concerned, and is also so calm that I’m momentarily wrong-footed, although I don’t move.

‘They broke into the house,’ I watch him carefully, ‘and set all of the clocks to the time of Beth’s death. We found the tip of a knife in the house that someone has stabbed so hard it’s actually broken off. There was other stuff too – mirrors have fallen down within inches of my son’s head. We heard three knocks at the door and no one was there.’

Just for a second, a strange expression flashes across his face.

‘What?’ I say quickly. ‘You looked like something occurred to you, just then.’

‘No, no’ he says uncomfortably. ‘It was just…’ He hesitates. ‘Three knocks at the door and breaking mirrors were regarded as signs of impending death in the Middle Ages. Shattered reflections and fracturing souls, that sort of thing. Look, just ignore me. Once a history scholar…’

I stare at him, horrified. ‘Omens, you mean?’

He avoids answering. ‘Jess, have you been to the police?’

I realise I’m on very thin ice now myself. ‘Not yet, no.’

There’s a light rap on the door and the PA sticks her head round. ‘I have the Dean’s office on the line, Mr Strallen. They’re asking if you need to reconvene?’

Simon exhales tightly. ‘Tell them I’ll be there in literally five minutes. Thanks, Penny.’

She disappears again, and I take a step towards the door myself. ‘I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.’

‘No, no – you were right to. I can absolutely see why you did now; you’re desperate to try and make sense of this – I expect you wanted to come and see if anything has happened to me too – but I promise, I know nothing about any of it at all. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened to me and I’m so sorry that this is happening to you.’ He hesitates. ‘You don’t think it’s Ben? Some sort of post-traumatic reaction?’

‘That’s just what Ed said.’ I feel suddenly weary.

‘Who’s Ed?’ He says.

Oh FUCK – I remember a second too late that he thinks Ed is Ben. Christ – this is absurd. I can’t cope with all of these lies any more. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m really sorry for coming. I just thought it would help to talk to you, that’s all.’

I push past him, but he grabs my wrist again, pulls me back, ducks suddenly and kisses me. His slightly wet, open lips crush against mine, and repulsed, I wriggle free. ‘What are you doing?’ I gasp, stumbling back away from him. ‘I’m married!’

‘But, I thought—’ he begins.

‘That actually I’d come here for you?’ I finish, wiping my mouth with my hand. ‘I wanted your help, Simon!’

‘But I miss you, Jessica,’ he replies eagerly.

‘Did you not hear what I just told you? About what’s been happening to me this week?’ I look at him in disbelief. Have I learnt nothing in nearly twenty years? ‘My husband said this was about you engineering an intimacy, using something only we shared, and I didn’t listen.’ My eyes fill with tears. ‘You had no right to force yourself on me like that. How dare you?’

He laughs incredulously and steps towards me again. ‘But my darling, you came here!’

‘Don’t call me that!’ My voice is trembling wildly. ‘And stay away from me and my family. I want no more contact with you. You are to leave me alone!’ Stifling a sob, I reach out, fling open the door and sprint down the dark, echoing corridor as if he’s only two steps behind me, and reaching out his fingertips, ready to pull me back, wrap his arms tightly around me and never let me go.



* * *



Sandrine smiles happily as she climbs into the front of the car in which James and I are waiting. ‘Hello, James!’ She twists in the passenger seat, reaches into the back and takes his hand.

‘Nice to see you!’ he says dutifully, and she laughs.

‘I will miss you, little man!’

I glance in the rear-view mirror at my smiling boy. He’s going to miss her so much. We’re going to need to revisit the whole au pair thing and go for a more permanent, stable solution that, as Ed said, isn’t so disruptive to our son. ‘Have you had a good afternoon?’ I force a smile for Sandrine as we pull away from the college.

She nods. ‘Yes, thank you. It was sad to say goodbye, but I am happy to be going home. My sister is going to meet me from the airport with my mother and then we are going out to eat, just the girls!’

‘That sounds lovely,’ I say truthfully.

‘I am very excited!’ she says, and I can see the flush of colour in her cheeks as well as hear it in her voice. ‘Are we going back to the house now? I would like to pack my things, if it’s possible?’

‘Of course, we just have to pick up Ed from the station first.’

Her face falls instantly. ‘Oh, OK.’

‘Sandrine, you really don’t need to be afraid of Ed.’ I glance sideways at her. ‘Some things happened at the house this week that he was trying to keep us safe from, that’s all.’

She doesn’t say anything, just looks down at her hands and starts picking at the quick of one of her nails. We lapse into silence for the next ten minutes, during which she no doubt thinks about how after tomorrow – if she can just hang on for one night – she never has to see any of us again, and I consider how the hell I’m going to tell Ed that I went to see Simon this afternoon, and he kissed me. I shudder involuntarily at the memory as we arrive at the station just in time to see Ed walking down the concourse in his work suit, holding a bunch of flowers.

‘Hello!’ He leans over to kiss me once he’s climbed into the passenger seat, Sandrine having moved into the back with James. ‘And hello, Sandrine, and hello, you.’ He twists round and tickles James’s tummy, who laughs delightedly and says: ‘Daddy on the train!’

‘I was, yes, James, but I’m home now. So, who fancies fish and chips for tea?’

‘Me!’ James says immediately – having heard the magic word, chips. I open my mouth to say I was going to do a slightly healthier option at home, but think better of it. It can’t hurt, just this once, and we certainly do have bigger fish to fry.



* * *



Back at the house, Ed stands on the step holding the full carrier bag of wrapped warm chip papers, as I open the front door warily and push it wide, before reaching my hand around the corner to turn on the hall light. All without actually going inside myself. ‘There you go. Are you alright to go in now, if I go back and get Sandrine and James?’ I nod back at the car where they’re waiting for me.

Lucy Dawson's books