Daria's Daughter

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Daria's Daughter Page 13

by Linda Huber


  ‘No, no. He shows up regularly begging for cash, that’s all. He thinks I should support him while he’s trying to get his big break.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake. What is he, thirteen? Don’t worry, we’ll be there in two minutes.’

  Liane’s mobile rang again, and she put it on speaker. Daria.

  ‘He’s got her! He called out for her and she ran out of the loos before I could stop her. I can’t see them anywhere!’

  Steve spoke while Liane was smothering a shriek of horror. ‘Where are you exactly, Daria?’

  Liane clutched her head. Her baby – Frith must, she absolutely must, stay safe.

  ‘I’m on the long path coming down to the main gate. It’s the quickest way out, but I can’t run with my leg – should I call the police?’

  Liane fought for self-control while Steve spoke.

  ‘Wait until we’re there – we’re at the far end of the park now. Meet you at the gate.’

  Liane disconnected and jabbed anew at her phone. Pick up, Tony, you scumbag. But of course, he didn’t, and she shoved the phone into her pocket. Steve parked on a double yellow line. Liane fumbled to open the door, gazing wildly up and down the street. Daria was standing at the park gate. She swung across the road on her crutches while Liane and Steve got out of the car.

  ‘Still no sign. Liane, I’m so sorry—’

  Liane brushed that aside. The first thing was to find Frith. ‘You can wait here in case they appear. Steve – how about we run through the park? If we go right and left round the boundary path, we can meet at the other side and come back along the main path. That way, we’d see pretty much all of it. It’s not a big place.’

  ‘Okay. But if we don’t find them, you should call the police.’ He handed the car key to Daria and grabbed Liane’s hand.

  She held on for dear life as they dived through traffic, horns blaring from both directions. Inside the park gate they parted company. Liane jogged steadily, her feet light on the path and her eyes darting right and left. There were so many bushes here – but Tony had no reason to take Frith in among them, unless they were playing hide and seek, and Frith was more likely to want to play on the swings. A stitch jabbed in Liane’s side, and she held one hand to her ribs, her breath hot and painful in her throat. She could murder Tony right now.

  Steve was waiting at the other side of the park. ‘No sign. Come on – we’ll check the swings on the way.’

  He was holding her hand again, pulling her along the main path, and thank goodness he was because she wouldn’t have been able to move so quickly without him. They stopped at the swings and Liane gawped around the clusters of kids making the most of the mild spring sunshine, but no small girl with a pink jacket and blonde hair was in sight.

  Steve’s face was grim. ‘I think you should call the police.’

  Liane leaned both hands on her knees. ‘Tony wouldn’t hurt Frith. I’d like to try his place first.’

  Back in the car, she sat massaging her side and giving directions to the flat Tony shared with two other would-be musicians. Without much hope, she tried his phone again. Nothing. Daria was apologising non-stop in the back seat, but Liane didn’t answer. This was all Daria’s fault; she should shut up. Oh, that wasn’t fair. Liane wiped her eyes – she’d left her precious child with a woman who couldn’t run after her. If it was anyone’s fault, it was hers.

  Tony’s street was deserted. The houses here were terraced, and a long row of grey roofs stretched down either side of the road. The small garden in front of Tony’s building was overgrown, the solitary rose bush unpruned.

  Steve parked about ten yards from the entrance. ‘I’m coming in with you.’

  It wasn’t a question, and Liane didn’t try to stop him. Face it, she could use the moral support.

  Daria undid her seat belt. ‘Shall I come too?’

  Liane shook her head. ‘You’d better stay here. Steve and I will deal with him.’ For the life of her, she couldn’t keep the anger from her voice, and Daria flinched.

  Liane led the way up a short flight of steps to the front door. She’d been here before, when she and Tony were still together. What would she do if he and Frith weren’t inside?

  Like the other buildings up and down the street, the stairwell door was open to anyone who wanted to go in. Liane took the stairs two at a time to the dimness of the first floor. She leaned on the doorbell and it rang frantically inside the flat, and – voices. Someone was there.

  Liane banged a fist on the door. ‘Frith!’ Never had she yelled her daughter’s name in such a tone. There was the sound of heavy footsteps, and the door creaked open.

  ‘Here already? She’s having some ice cream.’

  Liane stormed past Tony’s smirk without another word. Frith was cross-legged on the living room floor, still in her jacket, tucking into a generous bowl of chocolate ice cream. Liane crouched beside the little girl. Oh, to be able to yell at Tony that he was a word she couldn’t use in front of Frith, grab her child and hold her tight all the way home – but that would only frighten the poor kid.

  ‘Are you okay, sweetheart? I was worried, I didn’t know where you were.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Frith gripped her bowl and inched away from Liane. ‘I’m allowed to be with Daddy. He said so.’

  Swallow the rage, Liane. ‘Yes, but we should always organise it properly first. Finish your ice cream, and we’ll get going. You can have a ride home in Steve’s car.’

  Frith spoke through a mouthful of chocolate ice cream. ‘I don’t want to go home. I haven’t played with Daddy’s guitar yet and I want more ice cream, too.’

  Liane stroked Frith’s head. Knowing Tony, he’d have promised her all the ice cream she could eat. ‘You can play with the guitar another day, sweetie.’ She stood up and glared at Tony. ‘What did you think you were doing?’

  He was grinning away as if this was the funniest thing he’d seen all week. Liane pulled herself together; she shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. Steve was in the doorway with an expression like a bulldog chewing a wasp, which would be hugely entertaining to someone like Tony.

  Liane forced herself to sound calm. ‘You can’t take her without asking, Tony. If you want access, we’ll get it properly organised. I’ll contact Social Services and find out how to go about it.’

  His face fell all the way to Australia. Nice one, Liane. That had hit the spot.

  ‘No need for that, is there? We can come to an informal agreement. I should have joint custody, she’s my kid too.’

  In his dreams. ‘I’m not into informal agreements, Tony, and as Frith’s primary carer, I get to organise any help we need to make this arrangement.’ Liane had no idea if this was correct, but Tony didn’t know any better either. He stood glowering at her as Frith finished her ice cream. Liane ignored him.

  Frith gaped into the bowl for a moment then stood up. ‘I’ve had enough.’

  Thank goodness for small mercies. Liane took the little girl’s hand. ‘Say ’bye-bye to Daddy.’

  Half a minute later they were at the car again. Liane opened the back door. ‘Can you sit in the front, please, Daria? I want to come in here with Frith.’

  Daria moved without speaking, and Liane got in beside Frith.

  Steve reached back from the driver’s seat and touched her knee. ‘Liane, you were really good in there, well done. I don’t know if I’d have been so calm with him.’

  Liane barely managed a smile. If Frith and Daria hadn’t been in the car too, she’d have been in floods. ‘I wasn’t calm. But letting him think that was the right way to go. He’s a big kid. Stand up to him and he’ll crumble.’

  Frith lifted her arms as Liane clicked the seat belt on for her. ‘There you go, love bug.’

  Daria jerked round in the front seat and gave them a wide-eyed stare. ‘She shouldn’t travel without a child seat!’ Her face was sheet-white.

  Liane nearly burst into tears. ‘I don’t have a car seat, Daria, because I don’t hav
e a car.’

  In any other situation, the expression of horror on Daria’s face would have been comical. Her eyes flitted from Liane to Steve and back. ‘She’s not safe without one.’

  It took a Herculean effort, but for Frith’s sake, Liane kept hold of her temper.

  ‘We’ll be home in a few minutes, Daria.’

  Daria shrank back in her seat, and Liane hugged Frith, who was mercifully unaware of the fright she’d given them. ‘Daddy and me came two stops in the bus. We went upstairs.’

  Liane slid one arm around Frith. Oh, how good it was to cuddle her girl. ‘You like going upstairs, don’t you?’

  Frith leaned against her, inhaling loudly. ‘The bathroom’s smelly at Daddy’s.’

  Liane swallowed a smile. Good. Frith wasn’t stupid. She’d noticed Daddy didn’t represent an ideal way of life, even if he was trying as hard as he could to be the fun parent. Relax, Liane.

  Home again, she settled Frith with her Lego in the living room and turned to Daria, who was hovering in the doorway. ‘We’ll go through to the kitchen.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It was all my fault.’ Daria sagged onto a chair and rummaged in her bag for a tissue.

  Liane pulled up a chair too. You couldn’t yell at someone who wasn’t on your level. ‘It was Tony’s fault. He took advantage – but what did you think you were doing, going to the park when you’re still on crutches?’

  Daria’s fingers were working on the hem of her woollen jacket. ‘I know. I’m sorry. My leg’s improving and she wanted to go, but – it’s no excuse.’

  Liane dabbed her eyes with a tissue. ‘Suppose she’d run off after another kid, or a duck or something? Or had an accident or—’ She stopped abruptly. The thought of what could have happened to her precious daughter was too much. ‘I think you should go now, Daria. Frith – I – need to be alone.’

  Daria was white. ‘I’m so sorry. Steve, can you take me home, please?’

  Liane sat motionless as they left, then she reached for the kettle. All’s well, etcetera, but she’d had the worst fright of her life today. By a mile.

  Day Twenty-One – Thursday 7th May

  Chapter 26

  Daria woke at six and hobbled through to the kitchen on her crutches, leaving Noah snoring. She had lost Evie, and she’d nearly lost Frith, too. What a mess. What if Liane never forgave her? She might never see Frith again, and she could add Liane to the list of people currently blaming her for making a mistake. And Liane was right; she shouldn’t have taken Frith to the park. So Noah might be right too. Oh, God. Evie…

  Daria switched on the coffee machine, then made herself a large mug of black coffee. This was a new low point. She’d thought the memorial would be the worst thing, but worst things just kept on coming, and maybe they always would.

  Noah was up now, crashing around in the shower. Daria sipped her coffee. She couldn’t let her life disintegrate any further and home was the best place to start rebuilding it. She’d suggest bereavement counselling, but surely they could make a start together, first.

  She waited until he was sipping coffee too, waiting for his toast to pop up.

  ‘Noah, I was thinking. Let’s go back to the park after work tonight, visit Evie’s tree. We should talk, and that would be a good place. The forecast’s okay. What do you think?’

  His face darkened. ‘I told you: I want to remember her alive. It’s beginning to feel as if the more we talk about her, Daria, the more dead she is. I’m not going to start making pilgrimages to Evie’s tree every few weeks.’

  Daria grabbed her self-esteem before it melted irrevocably. ‘What do you suggest, then? We can’t go on like this.’

  ‘No, we can’t. But twenty minutes before I go for the train is no time to start a conversation about anything.’

  He grabbed his toast and mug and strode back to the bedroom. Daria slumped in her chair. The sun was tipping over the roof across the road, sending a tiny shaft of yellow into the corner of the kitchen, but nothing, nothing was bright any more. Why was Noah taking out his anger and hurt on her? She was supposed to be his partner, the love of his life, but although she was aching for closeness, love, mutual support, he was freezing her out. The end of their marriage… was this it? Noah left the flat, shouting goodbye without coming into the kitchen, and dammit, she wasn’t going to be treated like that. Daria got up and hopped across to her mobile on the work surface. It wasn’t too early to call Kit, in fact this was a good time; Kit would be on the train on her way to work. She tapped into her contacts.

  ‘Kit – I was wondering if you’d have time to do me a favour tonight?’

  ‘I’ve nothing planned. What do you need?’

  ‘I want to go back to Evie’s tree, and Noah won’t come with me. Could you drive us there?’

  ‘Oh, Daria, love. Of course I will. I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?’

  Seven was perfect. Daria ended the call and dropped her phone into her handbag. What on earth was she going to do all day?

  By half past four, she was in danger of going stir-crazy and her eyes were aching from staring at the laptop, but she’d made an album of the best photos of Evie. Four years and one month of life, from the first ultrasound photo to the last outing to feed the ducks, each photo with a sentence to describe it and the date it was taken. Daria sent the file off to be printed and went for a walk around the flat. Noah would be back soon. If he made a scene about her proposed outing with Kit, well, she would do what he’d done and walk out on him.

  He arrived home early, and Daria shoved a frozen quiche into the oven.

  ‘Kit and I are going to visit Evie’s tree. She’s picking me up at seven.’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s up to you. We have different ways of dealing with grief, Daria.’

  That was obvious. It didn’t seem to occur to him that dealing with grief could mean helping each other to work through it. Daria made a salad to go with the quiche and they ate a strange, silent meal at the kitchen table. Noah’s eyes were luminous and his voice unsteady, but all they talked about was salt and salad dressing, and every sentence that ignored the problem between them was a stab in the back. Daria left him to see to the table and went down to wait for Kit outside. There was only so much silence you could take.

  Kit arrived punctually, and reached across to hug Daria when she took her place in the passenger seat. ‘You and Noah are having a ghastly time – I’m so sorry. Let me know if you ever need help again, Daria, I’m here for you.’

  Daria breathed out in relief as they drove across the city and out to the north. Evening sunshine was making the hills golden-green tonight. She’d been right to come; this was a healing kind of place.

  They parked in the visitors’ car park and walked by the river, approaching Evie’s tree from the other side this time. There was only a handful of other visitors, and Daria was glad. She’d never thought about other people looking at Evie’s tree, wondering why it had been newly planted in the middle of all the established ones. Should they have a plaque of some kind made, one that could stand beside the tree? ‘In memory of Evie’ for everyone to read and wonder who she was. It was something to think about.

  They didn’t talk much, but that was all right. Kit was here for her, and wordless love and support were doing more than a stream of words ever would. Daria took both crutches in one hand and put an arm around Kit as they stood in front of the tree.

  ‘Thanks, Kitty.’

  Five minutes was enough. They wandered back to the car park, where the sight of Noah standing beside their car sent shock fizzing through Daria. She limped across, Kit by her side.

  He stared at her awkwardly. ‘I’ve come to pick you up. It’ll save Kit another trip across the city and back again.’

  Kit rubbed Daria’s back. ‘It’s up to you, love.’

  Noah’s face flushed red, and for a micro-second hurt blazed from his eyes. Daria gripped her crutches hard. If she went home with Kit now, it would be the end for her and Noah. And he wouldn’t b
e here if he wanted things to end.

  She nodded at Kit. ‘I’ll go with Noah. Thank you, Kitty, for everything.’

  Kit kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, huh?’

  They drove in convoy to where Kit branched off to go home. Daria waved, then sat back. Noah hadn’t spoken since they’d left the park. This was like the drive back from the memorial all over again, and the same desolation was creeping into her gut.

  ‘What is it you want us to do, Noah?’

  He crashed into second gear to take a corner. ‘I want you to accept what you did.’

  Daria bowed her head. It didn’t get much more condemnatory than that, did it? This had been a mistake. They were back with everything being her fault, and nothing she said would get through to him.

  ‘I loved my daughter, Noah.’

  He didn’t reply.

  Day Twenty-Two – Friday 8th May

  Chapter 27

  Goody – it was sunny today. Evie bounded out of bed and ran to the window. Maybe Frith would be out to play later. She pulled on the trousers and pullover Mammy had put ready for her after her bath last night, and made a face at the frayed cuffs. She didn’t have nice clothes here, but it didn’t matter, because she played in the garden so much and she always got dirty anyway. She reached for her trainers under the bed – Mummy had bought these for her in Spain, at Christmas. Would she bring presents when she came home again this time?

  The green bandage had come loose; it always did in the night. Evie unwound it and put the wooden spoon on the chest of drawers. She didn’t need a splint any more. Her arm was better and the bruises were almost gone, though you could see the marks where the spoon had been pressing.

  Mammy was snoring even louder than usual today. Evie peeked into her room when she went past, but she didn’t go in. Mammy’d been up in the night, because the new bottle of pink medicine was beside the bed and it had been in the kitchen last night when Evie went up for her bath.

 

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