I only went to meet him at Dovedale that night because after he attacked Scarlett at Ilam Park, I thought he might hurt her again if I didn’t turn up.
I was so tired by then, so exhausted, so ashamed, that I didn’t care any more. It wouldn’t matter if something happened to me.
I thought, If I die, he can’t do any more. I’ve won. He’s lost.
I thought Frankie would be better off without me. Marlena would be there for him; I was no good any more.
I drove to the Dove Bridge and got out. I sat by the river, waiting for him in the dusk. I drank the whisky and took a few pills to numb the pain. When he arrived on his stupid motorbike – the bike he’d always loved so – we talked for a bit, walking up the path to the shepherd’s hut.
We started to argue when he realised I wasn’t going to give him anything else. We had a scuffle near the hut – I remember that – and, spiteful as ever, he stamped on my glasses and threw them into the dark grass.
I didn’t cry, I don’t think. I used to cry in the old days. But this time I gave him the whisky and told him to finish it. I went outside the hut to pee, near his bike, and soon after that he drove off, and I lay down for a bit in the hut. I must have passed out.
I didn’t know he’d come off his bike.
Did I?
I can’t remember now.
It’s a blur.
* * *
The day after we almost walked up Thorpe Cloud, Marlena caught the train back to London. She said she had to go and do a proper interview with Nasreen’s parents. The Guardian actually wanted it.
‘Do you mind if I go?’ she asked, and I laughed and promised her I didn’t. I just wanted her to do well again. She’d paid her dues. She was doing important work this time – and I could see she loved it.
‘Honestly, babe, I love you, but I’m a townie at heart,’ she said as we drove through Derby to the station. ‘All this fresh air and space makes me feel a bit…’
‘A bit what?’ I didn’t mind. I was enjoying learning to be alone, to my surprise.
‘Panicked.’ She lit a fag and blew the smoke out of the window. ‘I will come again, I promise. Soon.’ She kissed and hugged me, smelling of Chanel and cigarettes. The kiss was a second; fast becoming a norm. ‘Or you come down to me, yeah?’
And Marlena was gone.
I owed my little sister a lot, but I didn’t need to say it, it turned out.
It didn’t make me feel panicked, all the space.
It made me feel free.
* * *
Just before I left London for good, I did a talk on the subject of stepmothers for my final presentation in the self-assertion class. I went through the fairy tales and the myths, touching on stories like Cinderella and Snow White.
‘Where are all the men in this?’ I finished. ‘What responsibility are they taking as they watch their daughters and new wives struggle to meet in a good place? Why are the first wives always pure and innocent? And why is it always the girls that have the trouble with these women that replace their mothers? Was Freud right – is it all about the innate jealousy we are born with, wanting to get rid of our same-sex parent? Or is it rubbish – is it just because all the stories were written down by men?’
And the class laughed as if I’d said something clever, all looking up at me. And I said, ‘Still, hopefully, step-parent or not, they – and we – will all live happily ever after, masters of our own destiny.’
And the group clapped loudly as I stood there beaming – I could actually feel myself beaming – and I took a little bow.
I won’t let myself be silenced again.
Dying to get your hands on Claire Seeber’s intense psychological thriller 24 Hours? Get it here!
A Letter from Claire
Hello!
* * *
THANK YOU so much for taking the time to read The Stepmother. Without you, there would be no point writing stories, so I am truly grateful and indebted to you for picking up my latest novel, which is a bit of a twist on Snow White, as I’m sure you realised.
The subject’s one that’s close to my heart: we all know families, however close, can be tricky – and in this day and age, more and more of us live in stepfamilies, which can be even more tricky than our natural ones (though that’s not a given!). I hope I might have addressed some of the issues that come with the merging of families – though I sincerely hope none of you has had to endure what some of my characters go through!
And if you have enjoyed The Stepmother then I would be even more grateful – if that’s possible – if you could take the time to write a quick review, or tell one of your friends – or family – about the book! Writers are not much without their readers’ support, and it’s always fantastic to hear from anyone who has taken the trouble to pick up one of my books. If you’d like to get in touch, I can be contacted through Facebook, Twitter or Goodreads – or my own website, where I sometimes remember to blog! Finally if you’d like to keep up-to-date with all my latest releases, just sign up here: