by Linda Huber
‘We should you get some more clothes, too. What have you done with them all? I can hardly find anything.’
Evie blinked. Mammy didn’t seem to expect an answer, though. She was looking at the hairbrush and her face had gone all pink and funny. A moment later she stamped from the room, and drawers banged in Evie’s room. Evie went through.
‘Have you scamps been hiding things again?’ Mammy was panting away, opening all the drawers and rummaging around.
Evie went over to Tabitha, who had come in to look for a place to snooze in the sunshine. She liked the window ledge in Evie’s room.
‘No. Do cats hide things?’
Mammy laughed, then coughed. ‘Cats are experts at hiding. We’ll find you more clothes, don’t worry. You’ve grown again, haven’t you?’
Evie swallowed hard. ‘Daddy said I grow like a runner bean.’
‘Did he? I don’t remember that.’ Mammy was rummaging in the bottom drawer. ‘Ah, look. Let’s see what we have here.’
She sat down on the bed with an armful of old clothes and shook them out one by one.
‘This should fit you now. And try these. And why didn’t I think of it—’
She bustled out while Evie sat looking at the blue jumper and trousers. These were for boys, weren’t they? But that didn’t seem to matter here. Mammy came back with a big bag of clothes and started to sort them out on Evie’s bed.
‘Can you do my bandage?’
‘Tsk. Give me a moment, will you?’
Mammy was shaking out jumpers and socks and things, so Evie went over to the window and stroked Tabitha, who was stretched out in the sunshine. It would be lovely if she saw the little girl at the window of the house across the garden again. But nothing was moving over there today.
Mammy was taking a long time with the clothes, so Evie went downstairs again. The kitchen was lovely and sunny – it would be so nice to go out somewhere. Mammy never went to the park – or if she did, she didn’t take Evie with her. The cats were lucky, they could get out of the window. Evie yanked at the door handle – oh! It wasn’t locked today. She sat down on the sunny doorstep and straightaway Socks and Topsy ran up to play. This was better.
It was a lovely garden here. Hundreds and hundreds of dandelions were waving their yellow heads in the grass. She could pick some for Mammy later. But then, dandelions made your hands all brown. Mummy said daisies were better, but Mammy’s grass didn’t seem to have many. Evie stretched her legs out, and Socks came to nose at her feet. Better stay on the step for now. She might not be allowed out here all alone.
‘Where’s this bandage, then?’
To Evie’s surprise, Mammy sat down on the doorstep beside her to unwind the bandage. Evie sat waggling her fingers while Mammy got the bandage ready to put back on. They weren’t sausagey any more. ‘Will it take much longer to get better?’
‘It’ll take as long as it takes, maid. Be patient.’
Mammy sat for a moment when the bandage and the wooden spoon were back on, then she gave Evie a little cuddle. Evie wrinkled her nose. Cuddles were lovely, but she wanted Mummy to cuddle her too.
‘When can—’ She stopped. It wasn’t nice when Mammy was cross.
Mammy hauled herself up and went back inside. A moment later the stairs creaked. Evie waited before tiptoeing upstairs. Mammy was lying on her bed with her eyes closed. Good, she could go back down and play in the garden for a little while.
The grass at the back stretched up to all the bushes and trees. Behind them was the house where the little girl had been at the window. Evie pushed her way through to the back fence – it was made of wood and was almost as big as she was, though there were plenty of holes in it to peek through. She still couldn’t see the other house very well because there were so many bushes and trees on the other side too. She was about to turn back when a bang and a child’s voice made her stop.
‘Mummy? I want to see if the cats are in the jungle today!’
Evie grabbed the fence and stood on tiptoe – was this the little girl?
A woman answered. ‘All right, but don’t go out of the garden. Steve and I will be inside measuring for curtains.’
Evie waited. Marmaduke pushed past her and went all the way into the garden next door, and vanished. A moment later the little girl spoke to him.
‘Hello! What’s your name?’
Evie called through the bushes. ‘It’s Marmaduke.’
‘Ooh!’
Branches rustled, and Evie stood still as a little girl with wavy blonde hair and wearing jeans and a yellow sweatshirt pushed her way through the bushes and came right up to the fence. She was bigger than Evie but not much.
The little girl spoke first. ‘I saw you at the window last time we were here. Do you live there? We’re moving in soon. Why have you got a bandage?’
Evie licked her lips. ‘I bashed my arm, so Mammy put a bandage on – it hurts when I don’t have one.’
‘Do you live with your Mammy? I call mine Mummy but her name’s Liane. Steve is her friend and he has a brother called Jon and this is his house but we’re going to stay in it. Is that your cat? I’ve never known a cat called Marmaduke before.’
‘I—’ Evie stopped. It was hard to know where to start. ‘Mammy has lots of cats. One’s called Tabitha and she’s got kitties in her tummy. Mammy says they’ll be here soon.’
The little girl gave a gasp. ‘Ooh, you lucky thing! Can we…’
‘Bridie! Where are you, child?’
Oh, no, Mammy was coming. Was she cross?
The little girl waved behind Evie. ‘We’re here!’
Evie wheeled round to see Mammy pushing her way through the bushes.
‘What are you doing? And – who’s this?’
The little girl gave Mammy a big smile. ‘I’m Frith. I think Bridie’s a lovely name!’
Mammy smiled back, but it was only a little one. ‘Bridie’s a lovely girl.’
Frith was hanging over the fence. ‘My mummy’s called Liane. That’s a lovely name too, isn’t it? What’s your name?’
Mammy’s smile twitched again. ‘Margie. Come on, maid. We have clothes to try on.’
She held out her hand and Evie took it, giving Frith a little wave with her green-bandaged arm.
‘I’ll come and look for you when we’ve moved in!’ Frith waved back, then dashed off.
Mammy held onto Evie’s hand all the way back to the kitchen, where she shut the door firmly behind them.
Evie squinted up. ‘I wanted to play in the garden.’ Mammy didn’t look cross, but she didn’t answer either. They went upstairs where there was a big pile of clothes on Evie’s bed, and Mammy made her try on a lot of trousers until they found two pairs that were about right. And some T-shirts and jumpers and knickers and socks. They were all old, and Evie didn’t like them, but her own clothes weren’t here.
‘I want my other clothes.’ It was out before she’d thought.
Mammy threw the too-large pair of trousers she was folding up into a drawer. ‘I want, I want! I want gets nothing, that’s what my mammy used to tell me. You need more than one set of clothes and these are your spare ones. You stay up here and play with the cats – it’s not good for you, running around the garden with that arm, and I’m not up to chasing after you.’
She coughed so hard she had to sit down. Evie brought her a glass of water from the bathroom. When she’d drunk it, Mammy reached for the pink medicine.
‘I need to go to the chemist’s, maid. Here’s me poorly and not an aspirin in the house.’ She took two big spoonfuls then raised her eyebrows at Evie.
Evie shook her head. The medicine made her sleepy, and her arm was nearly better.
‘All the more for me.’ Mammy gave Evie’s head a little rub and went back to her own room. The bed creaked loudly.
Evie sat down on the floor with Socks. Frith was a lovely name too. Maybe they could play together when Mammy was asleep, or at the shops. It would be nice to have a friend who could talk.
Day Twelve – Tuesday 28th April
Chapter 16
Daria settled into the back of the car with her mother, one hand reaching over the seatback to steady the little lilac tree that they’d positioned diagonally across the boot space. Thankfully, having a hatchback allowed you to transport things like this. Noah drove silently towards the north of the city. He was still sunk in despair and, while that was understandable, he was freezing her out. The lack of a child’s car seat in the taxi Daria had taken with Evie sat between them like a smouldering volcano. Daria stared at the back of his neck as he drove. Would he have decided any differently if he’d been in her place that day?
Her father was bowed in the front passenger seat, as silent as Noah, but at least his grief wasn’t accusing her of causing her child’s death. Daria pressed her lips together. Her parents had wanted a religious ceremony, but… no. A funeral with all the ceremony of a church service, with friends who were gutted for them, of course, but the lingering, unspoken and unspeakable thought at the back of every mind would be: thank God it didn’t happen to us. It was out of the question. And in a way, the absence of a coffin pushed the cold fact of death farther away. Evie wouldn’t be at her own memorial, so it wasn’t real, was it? And Mum – Daria winced as yet another hopefully upbeat remark about the tree ceremony came from her mother’s side of the back seat. Poor Mum, she was trying so hard to hold Daria up, but it was driving a huge wedge between them. Daria shifted in her seat. It would have been better if she’d been able to confide her fears about the lack of a car seat to her mother, but Mum was barely coping with her own grief. Impossible to burden her with Daria’s guilt, too. It would actually be a relief when her parents went home to Spain on Sunday; they all needed time and space to grieve in their own way.
Daria twisted in her seat to look out behind them, where Millie and Roger were following in their own car while Evie’s godmother, Kit, drove behind them with her partner Adrian. Thank God Kit was here and on Daria’s side, because Noah’s parents weren’t happy about today either. Rog had suggested getting someone outside the immediate family to officiate at the tree ceremony, suggesting a humanist friend of his, but Daria hadn’t wanted that. She’d wanted to scatter the ashes under the tree as they planted it, but according to Noah, the ashes were still being held while the investigation was ongoing, though Daria couldn’t see why this should be. Unlike the drivers of the taxi and the other vehicles, Evie had played no part in causing the crash. If they’d been allowed to have her cremated, why weren’t they allowed to have her ashes? It was another example of soulless officialdom, but ashes weren’t Evie and they could scatter them around the tree another day. So here they were, eight people going to plant a tree for a happy little girl they’d all loved, and not many of them were agreeing with any of the others about it. Evie deserved better, but this was what grief did.
Once outside the city, the scenery became hilly and wild, with sunshine and shadows chasing across the green rolling hills silhouetted against a perfect blue sky. The estate they were going to was famous for its beautiful gardens, open to the public all year. Daria had been coming here for years; it was a part of her childhood. About half of the estate was woodland, and it was here they were planning to plant the tree. The father of one of Noah’s friends was head gardener and he had arranged it for them. He’d offered to provide the tree, too, but Daria had wanted to choose that herself.
The three cars swung through black wrought-iron gates, crawled up the main driveway and skirted the house before driving on towards the river.
Jim was waiting with a wheelbarrow in the car park. He came over as Noah parked, and there was a round of awkward introductions and commiserations. Daria fixed her eyes on the trees, most of them deciduous, now greening up and coming to life after winter. The woodland area was at the back of the estate, and all the buildings were out of sight. Yes, this was a good place to remember Evie. She gripped her crutches.
Noah loaded the tree into the wheelbarrow, and Jim pushed it along a pathway.
‘I’ve prepared the place – it’s not far from the river, so you get the sound of that in the background, but there’s plenty of drainage and sunshine. We have other lilac trees along both banks, so this one will do well there.’
Noah answered him, walking beside Jim and supporting the tree while Daria swung along between her mother and Kit, with the others bringing up the rear. Mum was stifling tears and Dad behind her was stony-faced and silent. Oh, it was all so – hard. The warmth of Kit’s hand on her arm was the only thing that kept Daria going. They passed a massive lilac tree that was sending perfume over the entire area, and she breathed in deeply. Yes. This was what she wanted for Evie’s tree.
She called ahead to Jim. ‘How old is that one?’
He turned. ‘Twenty-five years, give or take a few. It’s a beauty.’
Daria pulled out her phone and handed it to Kit to take a few photos. In another twenty-five years, she’d compare these with Evie’s tree.
‘It’s here.’ Jim was standing beside a hole that was waiting several metres away from the path, a pile of earth beside it. Like a grave. Daria moved over to join him, gripping her crutches hard. Her mother accepted a tissue from Millie, but Daria’s eyes were dry. She was beyond tears now.
Jim unpacked Evie’s tree and teased out the root ball, then straightened up. ‘This is a good ’un. Put it in and hold it while you fill the hole, then press the earth down firmly. I’ll leave you alone now, but I’ll come and water it in when you’ve gone. Take all the time you need.’
He shook hands all round again, clapped Noah’s shoulder, and left.
Daria inched forward and held the tree with one hand as Noah shovelled in the earth and stamped it down. Kit had brought white roses, and they all laid one at the base of the little tree, then stood silently. The babbling of the river in the background combined with the rustle of treetops in the breeze, and the perfume from the older tree downstream wafted through the air. A beautiful spot, but not half lovely enough to be Evie’s memorial. Noah came to stand beside Daria, and she leaned in as he put his arm around her. They had to heal, as a couple, they had to get through this.
On the way home, all the parents went in Rog and Millie’s car. Probably they’d organised that beforehand, to give her and Noah some time together after planting the tree. Kit, who lived north of the city, hugged Daria hard before they drove off.
‘We’ll leave you to be alone with your families, love. I’ll be in touch in a day or two.’
Daria gazed out as they started back to the city. All too soon they were in the middle of the usual urban scenery, with cars and houses and people as far as the eye could see. Kit and Adrian swung away to the left, and Noah drove on without speaking. Daria was silent too; the air in the car was thick with silent accusations. Your fault your fault… She didn’t even know if they were her accusations or Noah’s. Dry-eyed, she sat motionless as they drove through the affluent north side suburbs, into the Clyde Tunnel and out again, on towards home.
Noah pulled up at traffic lights by a row of shops, and a blonde child skipping out of a newsagent’s caught Daria’s eye. Frith! Liane emerged too and took her daughter’s hand, and the pair of them beamed at each other. Envy and grief speared Daria’s heart. Lucky, lucky Liane, having a daughter to smile at and love.
The lights changed and Noah drove on. Daria closed her eyes, pushing away the memory of touching Frith’s face that day.
And now that she’d seen Frith, children were popping up everywhere, skipping along beside a parent, running into a park or a shop to spend their pocket money. She was increasingly conscious of them, those children milling around the city streets, some of them little girls with Evie’s zest for life. Daria pressed cold fingers against her eyelids. All her life, she would come across little girls who had something of Evie about them, whether it was appearance or clothes, or, like Frith, that indefinable air, the same mannerisms, and… oh, God, this was tough. And here t
hey were, almost back, and she and Noah hadn’t uttered a word to each other.
After a brittle conversation over coffee and fruit cake at Rog and Millie’s, the rest of them went home. Daria’s parents promptly went into their bedroom and closed the door, and she limped on through to the living room. Either Mum and Dad were trying to be super-tactful and sensitive or they wanted to talk about something she wasn’t supposed to hear.
Noah was slumped in the sofa. Daria propped her crutches against the wide sofa arm and sat down beside him. He didn’t move.
She touched his knee. ‘I think it’s a good place for Evie’s tree. Hopefully, it’ll flower next year. We can scatter the ashes there as soon as we get them.’
He jerked upright. ‘I don’t care what you do with the – ashes. It’s not Evie, is it? That bloody taxi! It makes me so angry. Evie’s gone and nothing in the world is going to bring her back, so please just shut up about the tree. I want to keep her in my head as my happy little girl, not a never-ending series of conversations about a bloody lilac tree!’
He strode into their bedroom, leaving Daria sunk in the corner of the sofa. He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d taken a whip and beaten her. Oh, he’d stopped short of blaming her for Evie’s death this time, but the accusation was still there, unspoken. It wasn’t as if he’d been the perfect father all Evie’s life – he’d rarely done things alone with his daughter. Daria leaned her head back, blinking violently to keep the tears in.
Listlessly, she reached for her phone to put the lilac tree photos into a folder where they wouldn’t get lost. An email had come in, from a name she didn’t recognise and headed ‘Class Reunion’. Daria opened it. Ruby Clark, who used to be Ruby James, had organised a reunion of their old secondary school class in a couple of weeks. Oh, no. Definitely not. Some things were impossible in the months after your child was killed, and this was one of them. There was a group for the class on Facebook, and Daria tapped through. Someone had added her name without asking. Her thumb hovered over ‘leave group’, then she scrolled down the list of group members – Liane was there.
