‘Carla’s mother needs to work today,’ I say quietly.
Ed nods. The relief in his eyes matches mine. We both need a distraction from the other. This little girl with the black curls and thick eyebrows is the perfect excuse. We can play Mummy and Daddy again.
‘That’s fine,’ Ed says, turning to Francesca. ‘Happy to help out. Carla’s no trouble. No trouble at all.’
12
Carla
‘May I lick the bowl? Please! Please!’ asked Carla, the wooden spoon already midway between her mouth and the delicious-smelling mixture of egg and flour and butter and sugar. Mamma never let her taste anything before it was cooked. But something told Carla she could persuade Lily. Sometimes you just had to know the right way for the right person.
‘Pleeease?’
‘Of course!’ Lily was next to her in a spotty pink and white apron. ‘My brother and I always used to do that when I was your age.’
Mmm. Yummy!
‘Not quite so much or you’ll be sick!’ Lily put a gentle hand on her arm.
Carla pouted the way Mamma did when Larry said he might be late again. Then she remembered that this sometimes annoyed him. She didn’t want to annoy Lily. ‘What is your brother’s name?’ she asked in the hope of changing the subject.
There was a tight pause as Lily put the cake into the oven. She could feel it; rather like that beat between the needle being placed on the record and the sound of the music.
Ed, who had been sitting on the floor, cross-legged, while sketching, laid down his charcoal stick. Lily took a great deal of time adjusting the position of the cake in the oven before coming back to the table. Her face was red. It must have been hot inside.
‘He was called Daniel.’
Carla knew that sing-song voice. It was the one Mamma used when she said something that was very important, but that she didn’t want Carla to make a fuss about. ‘Your grandfather does not wish to see me any more.’ Or, ‘One day, perhaps, you might go back to Italy on your own. Your grandmother would like to meet you.’
The English language was very strange. But even though she hated school, Carla paid great attention to grammar. She liked it. It was like a rhyme. A nursery rhyme that Mamma sometimes sang to her in Italian. They were doing tenses now in class. Present. Past. Future. She walks down the street. He walked down the street. My brother is called Daniel. My brother was called Daniel.
That meant Lily’s brother must have changed his name. They’d been reading a story at school about someone doing that.
‘What is he called now?’
Ed’s charcoal stick was scratching quickly again. But Lily had turned back to the oven, her back to Carla. ‘I don’t want to talk about him any more.’ Her voice was unexpectedly cross.
Instantly, Carla’s mouth went dry. The sweetness of the butter and flour and sugar had gone. Yet at the same time there was a thrill of excitement running through her. The sort you got when something bad happened – but not to you.
‘Did someone hurt him?’ A picture of poor Charlie with his ripped fur next to the misspelt word ‘Theef’ came back to her.
‘I think that’s enough questions for today.’ Ed stood up. ‘Come and look at this, Carla. What do you think?’
The girl on the paper looked just like her! She was lifting the spoon from the cake mixture to her lips. Her eyes were shining. But at the same time, there was a hint of something sad. How did Ed know that inside she was still hurting for Charlie? The new one didn’t smell the same. He didn’t love her as much as the real one. She could feel it.
‘Where is Lily? She’s not in the picture.’
There was a laugh which sounded deeper than usual. Normally Lily had a high, tinkly laugh. ‘Don’t worry about that, Carla. I’m used to it.’
A ripple of unease ran through her. Didn’t Mamma say such things when Larry was late or didn’t turn up at all? I’m used to it. Used to your wife coming first. Don’t worry about me.
‘Stop.’ Ed’s voice was low and growly. ‘Not in front of the child.’
‘I am not a child,’ she started to say, but Ed was pushing his drawing into her hands. ‘You may keep this, if you like.’
Really? This was hers? She would add it to the special box where she’d put the first one Ed had given her. He must really like her.
‘Why not? It’s better than keeping it here. My dear wife might start to be jealous of that too, along with everyone else.’
‘I thought you said, “Not in front of the child”?’
Lily was washing up angrily. Suds were flying in all directions. One landed on Carla’s shoe. They were too tight, but Mamma did not get paid until next month. ‘I cannot ask Larry for any more,’ she’d said.
But Carla could. Since finding him with the red-lipped lady, she had the feeling that she could ask Larry for quite a lot. The new Charlie was just the beginning.
‘May we go out for a walk?’ she asked now, taking Ed’s hand in her left and Lily’s in the right. Then she remembered something that she had heard Mamma say through the wall, after she and Larry had been dancing. ‘Please? Pretty please?’
By the end of the afternoon, Carla had five more pictures. Carla in the park, on the swing. Carla feeding the ducks. Carla running. Carla thinking with her hand on her chin. Carla eating a Knickerbocker Glory with gooey strawberry sauce that Lily had treated her to.
‘Why do you not have any pictures of Lily?’ she asked Ed.
As soon as she said the words, she knew she should not have done. All she’d wanted to do was find out what had upset Lily.
Lily gave a strange laugh. ‘Because I am not worth painting.’
Ed said nothing. But when Carla returned the following Sunday, there was a new picture, propped up against the wall.
Lily looking out of a window. It was as if she might step out of the paper any minute!
And that’s when Carla realized. Mamma was wrong. Lily might be a different shape from her mother. But she was beautiful. Kind. Caring. Carla’s heart swelled up inside. How she loved her!
‘It is wonderful,’ she breathed.
Ed looked pleased. So too did Lily. They put their arms around each other and looked much happier than she had ever seen them look recently. It made Carla feel good too. If it were not for Sundays, Carla wouldn’t be able to get through the week. Monday … Tuesday … Wednesday …
Mamma no longer had to put a note under Lily’s door. It seemed to be accepted that on the Lord’s Day she went to Ed and Lily’s, while Mamma went to work.
‘Soon,’ promised Ed, after she’d finished admiring Lily’s new picture, ‘I will draw you again. But I need to go out now.’
‘Really?’ asked Lily, lifting her head. ‘Where?’
Ed shrugged. ‘Just out. You know. To get some inspiration.’
Carla didn’t mind him going. He wasn’t her favourite person. That was Lily. Lily who had time for her instead of constantly drawing and getting out a sketchpad when they were meant to be walking.
But it wasn’t long before Lily was busy too. ‘I need to go through some work papers,’ she said. ‘Can you read to yourself for a bit?’
Carla stuck out her bottom lip. This was usually effective in getting her way. ‘But I’ve left my book behind.’
‘Do you have a key?’
‘There’s one on the ledge above the front door.’
‘Can you get that then?’ Lily barely looked up as she spoke.
‘OK.’
‘Thanks.’ Lily beamed at her. Instantly Carla felt full of warmth again.
‘Shall I come with you?’
‘You’re busy.’ Carla was keen to please. ‘I can do it.’
As soon as she put the key in the lock, Carla heard the moaning. Someone was in pain! Was it Mamma sent home ill from work? The sound was coming from her room.
Carla opened the door and then stopped dead. That was Larry’s hat on the floor. The rest of him was on top of Mamma. Except that it didn’t look like her. Her face was red. Her hair was wet. And her eyes were so wide that they looked as though they were going to pop right out there on to the floor. Was Larry hurting Mamma? But Mamma didn’t seem sad. She didn’t really seem like Mamma at all.
Carla turned and ran.