I stoop to pick it up and shake my head as I turn it over in my hands. Mum’s Dictaphone. Paul must have packed it thinking it was mine. I push the rucksack to one side and sit back on the grass. If it still works I can hear her one last time, my lovely mum. I curl up on my side and fiddle around with the buttons. It’s an older model than mine and it takes me a while to get it going, but finally I hear a hiss and then the unmistakable tones of my mother:
‘Testing. Testing. That’s what they say, isn’t it? I’m meant to speak into this thing cos I keep forgetting where I left my glasses. Kate says I’m going to get through a whole rainforest of Post-it notes if I’m not careful so she’s bought me this nice new thingy. Though I told her not to bother. I’m too old for all this new-fangled nonsense.’
I smile as her voice drifts through the dusty air. She’s come back for me just when I need her most. My eyes well up with tears as she carries on talking about what she needs to get from the supermarket and the Christmas bin collection dates. Silly little trivial things, but hearing her talk about them makes me feel safe. Then she stops and there is a long pause. I fast forward and hear her voice again.
‘. . . the house next door.’
I rewind a bit and wait for her to start up again.
‘I’m telling this to you because I know they’ll all think I’m barmy but I’ve seen him twice now and he was as clear as the nose on my face.’
Her voice is serious and I stand up and increase the volume, my heart thudding in my chest as she continues.
‘There’s a little lad. Tiny little thing, can’t be much more than three or four, in the house next door . . .’
It’s the last thing I hear as a shaft of bright white light blinds me and I’m flung to the ground. I hear the familiar tap, tapping of an approaching shell. I cover my face and close my eyes, then all is black.
PART TWO
* * *
28
Herne Bay
Tuesday 5 May 2015
Someone is shining a light in my face. I squint and try to remember where I am. When I come to I see a man standing in front of me. From this angle he looks like a giant with great big hairy arms folded across his chest. But as my eyes focus I see that it is just Paul. My husband. And the light is the light of early morning, coming through the conservatory window.
‘What do you want?’ I mutter as I lie back into the folds of the armchair. My mouth is dry and my head hurts when I speak.
‘Sally, I need to talk to you,’ he says. His voice is low and serious.
‘Well, I don’t want to talk to you.’
I squint. The sunlight pouring through the window is making my head throb. I can still taste last night’s wine and if I move I will throw up. I close my eyes and try to pretend he’s not here. Why is he standing over me like this? He knows not to come in here; this is my space. I just want to go back to sleep.
‘Sally, please,’ he says. ‘You need to wake up. We’ve had some bad news.’
I open my eyes and look at him. He’s been crying. I go cold. It’s her.
‘Hannah,’ I whisper. ‘Is it Hannah?’
He shakes his head.
‘No, it’s not Hannah.’
Thank God, I think to myself, as I sink back into the chair. If it’s not Hannah then I don’t care what he has to say. But he’s still there. I can feel him looming above me.
‘What is it?’ I say. ‘Just tell me.’
He sits down on the edge of the table and puts his head in his hands.
‘Paul, for God’s sake tell me.’
‘It’s Kate,’ he says, looking up.
‘Oh, what’s she done now?’ I say, looking around the room for the wine. I need a quick drink just to take the edge off. ‘Got herself kidnapped?’
I can’t see the wine. I must have finished it last night. I stand up and head for the door.
‘Sit down,’ says Paul, putting his hand on my arm. ‘This is serious.’
I look at him. His face is deathly pale.
‘Look, whatever this is,’ I say as I sit back down, ‘Kate will be fine. She can look after herself. Always has done.’
‘Sally, listen to me.’
‘She was only here a little while ago, she seemed fine.’
My hands start shaking. I need a drink.
‘Come on, love,’ he says, leaning forward and taking my hands. ‘Just let me speak.’
‘I’m not interested,’ I snap, pushing his hands away. ‘Kate can look after herself.’
What does he think he’s playing at, coming in here at this time of the morning wanting to have serious conversations when I haven’t even had a drink?
I push past him and head into the living room, but as I get to the door I feel his hands on my shoulders.
‘Sit down,’ he says, guiding me towards the sofa.
‘Get your hands off me,’ I shout. ‘I told you I’m not interested in Kate or whatever trouble she’s got herself into. Get out of my way.’
‘Sally, stop,’ he says firmly.
‘No, I won’t,’ I reply, struggling against him. ‘You don’t get to tell me what to do any more.’
‘Jesus Christ, will you just listen, you stupid woman,’ he yells, gripping me hard with both hands. ‘She’s dead. Your sister is dead.’
Everything goes black and I slump on to the floor.
‘I’m sorry, love,’ he’s saying. ‘I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t want to tell you this way, but you just wouldn’t listen.’
Paul picks me up gently and settles me on the sofa.