Circle of Doubt
Page 3
‘Isn’t this a lovely little school?’ Tatjana said as they stepped into the playground. The school was a brick and wooden structure. Beyond the building, in the forest, were a selection of desks and blackboards among the trees. Parents were gathered in huddles as children darted off to play with each other. Some peered over, their attention caught by the glamorous newcomer.
Lucy Cronin, the mother of Poppy, strode over and gave Tatjana a quick hug, completely ignoring Emma, as she seemed to do most days.
‘You’re finally here, Tatjana!’ Lucy gushed. ‘Come meet the others!’
How could Lucy know Tatjana already?
She pulled Tatjana away towards a group of mums, leaving Emma standing alone. Emma resorted to her usual ploy: pretending to be incredibly busy looking at her phone. She ought to be used to it by now, standing alone in the playground. She’d had months of this, after all. It still stung, though. In fact, it reminded her of the way it had been at her own school. Before her sister arrived, Emma had endured three years of loneliness, watching as other children formed friendship groups, her own painful shyness making it difficult for others to be drawn towards her. And then her sister Harriet had started school when Emma was eight, a vivacious five-year-old who seemed to naturally draw close to her every child within her vicinity. Maybe it was her golden locks and dimpled cheeks. More likely it was Harriet’s personality, already shining through. Even at that young age, she had tried to draw Emma into her little circle of friends, sensing her sister’s loneliness. But it just made Emma feel even more of an outsider. Shouldn’t it have been the other way around, the older sister trying to help the younger sister fit in?
As Emma looked towards Tatjana and the other mums now, she felt the same burning sensation of embarrassment and inadequacy again. She imagined Harriet pushing her towards the group. ‘Go on, just join in.’
Instead, she stayed where she was, all her old insecurities bubbling up inside. She knew Dele didn’t have this problem on the occasions when he dropped Isla off. He’d come back talking about something one of the mums had told him. But then he’d always been popular, his laid-back vibes seeming to draw people to him just like Harriet’s spirited ways had, especially kids. In fact, the first time they met Isla at their short introduction session at her foster parents’ house, she’d crawled straight towards Dele. The social worker had been surprised. Isla was usually shy around men, as she was used to just being with her mother and grandmother. Emma remembered feeling a pinch of jealousy. Silly, really. But she’d been so desperate for Isla to adore her as much as she knew she’d adore Isla. What colours would Isla like? What smells? Would she want her future mother to wear her hair up or down?
As she’d watched Isla climb on to Dele’s lap, she’d started to regret her choice of a soft blue jumper and jeans. Should she have gone for brighter colours? Dele was wearing a white shirt. She’d read that babies liked black and white. Maybe she’d put too much perfume on?
But then Isla had looked over at her and put her chubby arms out towards Emma.
‘She wants you to hold her,’ said the foster mother who Isla had been staying with the past six months.
When Emma had lifted Isla into her arms, Isla leaned her cheek against the soft wool of her jumper, peering up at her with her big brown eyes.
That was it: love at first sight. Emma had never felt more accepted, more needed, more loved than in that moment.
She looked at Isla now as she played with her friend, Tegan. As though sensing her mother’s eyes on her, Isla stopped playing and turned to look at Emma, giving her a big smile. Emma smiled back, her heart swelling. None of it mattered really, all this school playground popularity. All that mattered was the way Isla was looking at her right then and there.
Then she felt someone else’s eyes on her.
It was Tatjana. Was it Emma’s imagination or did her eyes narrow as she watched Emma and Isla hug each other?
The school bell rang out and when Emma looked back at Tatjana, she was smiling.
Yes, it must have been her imagination.
Chapter Five
Welcome to the Mums of Forest Grove Facebook Group
Home to Mums and Grandmothers Dedicated to Making Their Children’s Lives in Our Beautiful Village as Natural, Carefree and Creative as Possible
(Set up by Kitty Fletcher, the world-famous Natural Nanny ©)
Closed group. 500 members
Monday 14th September
9.30 a.m.
Malorie Cane
Can I take the chance to say a big thank you to the mother who parked right across the entrance to the garages on Birch Road, blocking a removals van from entering? Not exactly the best welcome to the new residents who have moved in next to me and Graham.
Rebecca Feine
Nothing like a bit of passive aggressiveness to kick the week off, Malorie!
Belinda Bell
Let me guess, another school mum thinking she rules the road. I am sick to the back teeth of seeing the number of cars parked on grass verges and paths around here. What is wrong with these people? Disrespectful, ignorant and utterly selfish!
Lucy Cronin
I agree, Belinda. I just don’t understand why parents can’t just walk their kids to school like I do. Every day is a nightmare around the streets closest to the school. God forbid any emergency services ever need to get through. The number of times I’ve raised it with the council since I moved here, to no avail!
Kitty Fletcher
Quite right, Lucy! A brisk walk through the forest is just the thing to start a child’s day! Regular exposure to the outdoors has been proven to enhance a child’s cognitive functioning and improve their mood. There are too many children battling Nature Deficit Disorder.
Lucy Cronin
Hear hear, Kitty! I have absolutely no doubt this particular mother doesn’t care a jot for all that. Her poor child is probably stuck indoors all day on her iPad.
Rebecca Feine
Hold your horses! You have to remember many of these parents have no choice but to drop their kids off on the way to work, like my daughter used to when she had little ones.
Belinda Bell
Rubbish! When I had a brief stint working at one of the banks in Ashbridge when mine were young, we still walked to school. All it took was setting our alarm thirty minutes earlier. Honestly, the pure laziness of people today! When I was five, I trekked through snow blizzards and across major roads to get to school.
Vanessa Shillingford
Five? Are you sure about that, Belinda?! And Rebecca’s right. Some parents have no choice but to drop kids off on the way to work. It’s not like they can just plonk their kids on the side of the road thirty minutes before school time, is it?
Belinda Bell
What would your mum think of you saying that, Vanessa? Jackie thinks herself a bit of an eco-warrior, doesn’t she? You better tell her it’s going to get even worse when those new houses are built in the forest.
Rebecca Feine
New houses? Where’d you get that information?
Belinda Bell
Don’t you see the size of the crane that’s suddenly appeared in the forest overnight?
Pauline Sharpe
Oh no! Surely they’re not building houses in the forest! What about falling trees? Remember what happened during the storms back in 2014?
Lucy Cronin
Well, my husband is the ranger now and he’s putting plans in place to ensure that doesn’t happen again. As for the trees, it’s just the one house being built, actually. It’s owned by the Belafontes, a lovely young family. I met them all while walking the dogs at the weekend. They showed me the plans and mock-ups of how it will look. Absolutely gorgeous, honestly.
Vanessa Shillingford
Yes, my mum and I met Lawrence Belafonte at the cafe the other day. He’s an architect, and his wife runs a fashion business, I think. Rather big house for one family though, I have to say.
Kitty Fletcher
Rebecca Feine
Well that’s certainly one way to describe a nice view, Kitty!
Vanessa Shillingford
It can’t be that bad, they must have got planning permission after all?
Belinda Bell
You’d hope so! But they clearly have money and money gets you everywhere nowadays.
Rebecca Feine
I personally don’t mind, about time something was done with that land.
Belinda Bell
But it’s our forest! And who are these people anyway? Just turning up out of nowhere?
Ellie Mileham
I’ve met them. Lucy’s right, they’re a lovely family.
Belinda Bell
Always makes me suspicious when people describe someone as ‘lovely’.
Rebecca Feine
Are you being serious, Belinda?
Malorie Cane
Well as long as they don’t block the way to our garages, they can do what they wish!
Chapter Six
Monday 14th September
5.55 p.m.
Emma stood outside the school’s reception, waiting for Isla to be let out from her after-school club that evening. She was in the club three nights a week – Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays. On Thursdays, Dele left work early so he could pick her up, and on Fridays, Emma did. It worked out well. Isla actually enjoyed the clubs, though sometimes moaned that there was only a handful of other kids in with her, a testament to how skewed the community was towards stay-at-home mums in Forest Grove.
Stay-at-home mums like Tatjana Belafonte.
Emma hadn’t been able to resist googling her when she’d got into work that morning. It was a good way of taking her mind off the smashed window while she waited for Dele to call her. She bet a lot of the other mums had done some googling about Tatjana, too; some of the dads as well, judging by the way their mouths had dropped open when they saw this new model-esque woman appear in the school playground. There wasn’t much about her online, just a website showcasing her fashion business and an Instagram account, too, its feed mostly dominated by gorgeous models wearing Tatjana’s designs. There were also some family photos showing Tatjana with her husband Lawrence and their two boys in some exotic holiday location or other, as well as solo photos of Tatjana looking wistfully out of the window with a cup of tea in her hands. Emma noticed many of the village’s residents were already following her, including Lucy Cronin (of course!) and Kitty Fletcher.
Kitty was a bit of a local celebrity in the village. She’d written a book on parenting and had appeared on some daytime TV shows, calling herself the Natural Nanny. She held weekend sessions to ‘help balance a parent’s nurturing core’ so as to ensure they ‘set a good example’ for their children. When Emma had first seen the leaflet that had been conveniently posted through their letterbox the day they moved in, she’d laughed out loud at some of the things Kitty promised to help with: digital detox, connecting with nature, the benefits of organic sugar-free food. She wasn’t surprised when she discovered Kitty had never had a child herself.
Even funnier, when Emma did a search for Kitty’s name and dug down several pages, it delivered a hilarious MySpace page from back in 2005 showing a purple-haired Kitty in her early thirties, complete with a photo of her smoking a joint against the backdrop of a room filled to the brim with everything she now railed against: fast food, a TV, a computer. Emma wouldn’t mind. Sometimes the best ‘gurus’ were people who had turned their lives around and seen the light. But in this case, Kitty made no mention of her rock-girl past. In fact, according to the profile on her website, her life from a young age had revolved around a model of ‘natural, nurturing’ living.
The hypocrisy of it all!
The doors to reception opened and Emma smiled as she spotted Isla among the group of kids. A little knot formed in her stomach as she thought of the smashed window again and the awful run-in with Lawrence Belafonte’s PA after. At least Emma hadn’t had a call from the police, something she’d been worried about, considering Myra had threatened to send the pictures to them. She was now more worried about the smashed window. Dele had called her from the bookshop where he worked just before lunch and told her he’d called the police, who’d explained that some teenage boys from Ashbridge had been prowling around the area, so it may well have been them. But Emma wasn’t convinced. It seemed so random. No other neighbours’ houses had been targeted, from what she could gather.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe it wasn’t so random.
Anyway, Dele had managed to board the windows up. He’d even ordered a new window pane . . . a window pane that was going to wipe out what little they had left of their savings.
Isla’s eyes lit up when she saw her mum and she ran over. Emma wrapped her daughter in her arms, leaning down to press her nose into her thick hair, taking in the smell of her apple shampoo.
‘Hello, darling, how was your day?’ she asked.
‘Cool. Look,’ Isla said, digging around in her bag. ‘There’s a new after-school club. I have to sign up. It’s on the day Dad leaves early to pick me up, so he can take me.’
Emma took the flyer.
DESIGN DIVAS
EVERY THURSDAY
FOREST GROVE COMMUNITY CENTRE
4–4.45 P.M.
YEARS 3–6
A GREAT AFTER-SCHOOL CLASS FOR BUDDING FASHION DESIGNERS. SIGN UP FOR THIS 10-WEEK COURSE WITH FASHION DESIGNER TATJANA BELAFONTE.
£100 FOR 10 WEEKLY SESSIONS.
LIMITED PLACES AVAILABLE, APPLY SOON TO AVOID DISAPPOINTMENT
Emma frowned. Why hadn’t Tatjana mentioned it that morning when they were talking about Isla’s love of fashion?
‘I’m sorry, darling,’ Emma said, shoving the flyer in her bag. ‘Thursday is your time with Dad. Plus you’re already signed up to this kids’ club three afternoons a week. It’s too expensive to add yet another thing.’
‘But we’ve just got a new kitchen and those blinds!’
‘Exactly! And now we’re needing to replace those new blinds, not to mention the window, too.’
Isla’s face dropped as she remembered the smashed window.
‘I’m sorry, darling,’ Emma said. ‘We just can’t spare the money.’
Isla crossed her arms. ‘But how come you get to do those yoga classes, and Dad does tennis? What about me?’
‘Oh, let me think. Kids’ club? Guitar lessons?’
Isla gave her a look. ‘Kids’ club? Like that’s any fun. I only have to go to kids’ club because you’re always working.’
Other parents peered over, raising eyebrows.
Emma looked at her daughter in surprise. Isla rarely gave her a guilt trip about working!
‘You go to kids’ club three afternoons a week, that’s all,’ Emma said quietly, steering Isla away. ‘And why do you think I work? I do it to pay for the clothes on your back and the house and the bills.’
‘Exactly! So you can pay for the art class,’ Isla retorted.
‘Pay for what?’ a voice asked.
They turned to see Tatjana standing behind them with her two boys.
‘Mum won’t let me do your arts club,’ Isla sulked. ‘She said it’s too expensive.’
Emma’s face reddened. ‘Isla, don’t be silly.’
Tatjana frowned. ‘I thought ten pounds a session was reasonable. Several of the other mums have already signed up,’ she said, waving at some of the parents nearby. ‘That’s why I’m here with the boys, we’re going to grab a coff
ee with one of the mums to chat about it.’
Emma felt a touch of annoyance. ‘I didn’t quite rule it out,’ she said. ‘I just need to chat to Isla’s dad about it.’
‘Look,’ Tatjana said, leaning close to Isla and lowering her voice. ‘How about I give you a discount? How does eight pounds a session sound?’
Isla’s face lit up. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘That’s very sweet of you,’ Emma said, ‘but it wouldn’t be fair on the other mums.’
‘They don’t need to know,’ Tatjana replied, touching Emma’s arm lightly. ‘Just our little secret.’
Emma gave her a tight smile. ‘I don’t feel right about it. Of course we’d pay the full price.’
Tatjana clapped her slim hands together. ‘Oh, wonderful news. I’ll add your name to the list then, Isla.’
Isla started squealing in excitement as Tatjana and her boys laughed.
‘Aren’t you a delight?’ Tatjana said.
‘Sorry to give the wrong impression,’ Emma said firmly, determined to stick to her guns. ‘But I really do need to talk to my husband about this, so please don’t add Isla’s name quite yet.’
‘Oh well,’ Tatjana said with a shrug. ‘You can’t say I didn’t try, Isla.’
Isla’s face dropped, her dark eyes filling with tears. Emma felt bad, but she wasn’t going to let this woman steamroller her into something she hadn’t discussed with Dele yet.
‘Right, we better go. Have a lovely evening!’ She shot Tatjana a quick smile then walked away, aware of the woman’s eyes on her back.
Isla was quiet as they walked to the car, jumping into the back seat and turning her face away when Emma turned to look at her. She continued with her strop when they arrived home, jumping out of the car and storming to the front door, not even glancing at the large board now covering their shattered living-room window. Emma noticed it, though; she’d spotted it the moment they’d turned into their road.