‘If he’s touched her…’ I swallowed. Tried again. ‘If he’s touched her, I don’t know—’
‘Stop it, Mel!’ shouted Jacob. ‘I don’t need to hear this. I don’t want to think about… that. Christ, it’s hard enough…’ A ragged breath in, held, out. His cheeks reddened as if they had been slapped.
Pain constricted my throat but I forced the words out, desperate finally to voice what I’d been longing to say for so long. What Jacob didn’t want to hear.
‘When I’m on the marsh I can feel her, Jacob. She must have screamed for us. She must have cried for her mummy and daddy, and we weren’t there.’
‘Shut up! Shut up!’
Jacob stormed from the room, tears rolling down his face.
‘Are you all right? Do you want to talk about this, Melanie?’ asked Flo.
Throwing a glare her way, I stomped from the room too. Into the hall and up the stairs. If you had seen me, you might have laughed, Beth; my stomping reminded me of one of your strops.
I locked myself in the bathroom, trying to calm down. Jacob was right. I had to put my faith in justice. But it didn’t stop how I felt. I’d always imagined myself to be a forgiving person, but a mother can never forgive someone who hurts her child. I wasn’t a violent person; knew I would never carry out my threat, and yet that didn’t make the feeling inside me any less real.
I wanted to kill James Harvey for hurting you. In just three weeks, the changes wrought in me were deep and permanent. I was losing myself. Bits of me were being scoured away and the dust of me blown in the wind, flying somewhere across the Lincolnshire fens. Soon there wouldn’t be anything left that was recognisable.
Would you still recognise me, Beth?
We had been too happy. That was the problem. No one goes through life so untouched by pain.
Your dad and I had been childhood sweethearts. Friendship had given our relationship a good foundation – we genuinely were best friends. When I’d fallen pregnant unexpectedly, it hadn’t been a trauma; there had been no heart-rending decision. Instead, we had sat down, talked about things sensibly and decided that, although the timing could have been better, we very much wanted to be parents. We were excited to see how you would turn out; a mixture of the two of us, physical proof of our love.
Our parents had been supportive, not disappointed, and we’d married because we’d wanted to do everything right. It had been a tiny wedding, but perfect. Full of love, laughter, family and friends – well, you have seen the photographs, Beth, seen the joy on our faces for yourself. As we had exchanged vows in Fenmere’s church where I, and later you, had been baptised, I’d known I would spend the rest of my life with your dad.
The pregnancy had been smooth, the birth painful, but no worse than anyone else experiences. You, my beautiful daughter, were so perfect that the memory of the pain quickly faded. We had become a happy family, leading a small but relatively successful life. We had no desire to move away, branch out or take over the world.
You may not know this, Beth, but the only problem had been our assumption that other children would come along. Our only sorrow was that they never had. Even that had been taken in our stride, though. We had never bothered having tests to find out what was wrong; we simply accepted our lot. We were perfectly happy as a family of three, well, four if you counted our honorary second ‘child’, Wiggins.
Of course, over the years there had been arguments, strops and fallings-out. Since you’d become a teenager you had got a little sulkier, but nothing worrying.
Now, from out of the blue, we were dealing with this.
We had tempted fate with our happiness.
*
I splashed my face with water, then went downstairs to make peace with my husband. But then I saw him with Flo, their heads together, intimate.
They were kissing.
I backed up the stairs and sat at the top, hugging my trembling knees to my chest. How had I found myself in this nightmare?
I should have rushed downstairs, confronted them… but I didn’t have the strength. It was taking everything to hold it together as it was. Perhaps it was a way of getting his own back for the ‘affair’ he thought I was having with Glenn. Perhaps it was the pressure of what was happening. Perhaps he simply didn’t love me any more and had fallen for Flo.
Beth, we were crumbling without you.
Forty-Two
I couldn’t settle. Jacob was the same. The family had gathered round, all waiting expectantly for news. Jumping at everything, sitting down then standing up again, often losing the thread of our conversation because all we could think of was you and James Harvey. Most of the time the only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock we inherited from Jacob’s grandparents, which stood in one corner of the lounge, beside the window. Fighting the urge to scream and shatter the silence made me visibly shudder, and I tensed all my muscles against it.
Flo kept trying to talk to me, but her calm sympathy annoyed me and made me itch to punch her. Jacob seemed to appreciate her words, though. Of course he did. All those times I’d been grateful he’d dealt with her, saving me the trouble, I’d been pushing them together.
By two o’clock I was going out of my mind. There were so many horrific scenarios running through my head, and I couldn’t talk to anyone. Mum kept suggesting counselling. My dad and John were more your strong, silent types; good at practical things, bad at emotions. As for your dad, I was too scared of blurting out what I’d seen. A row at that moment might tear us apart for good.
So I sent a text to Glenn.
Something has happened. Fancy a walk on the marsh?
See you in 10 came his reply.
‘I’m going to take Wiggins out,’ I told Jacob.
He nodded weakly. ‘Want some company?’
‘You’ve barely got the strength to speak. Stay. Keep the relatives company.’
‘Thanks, Mel. If you’re sure.’
I was sure I couldn’t be around him, and would use any excuse to get away. I kept thinking of him kissing Flo. Why her? Why now?
Why not? We had both been pushed beyond endurance.