by Nicola Gill
‘I posted some horrible comments on your site.’ Jess blanched. ‘I’m not the person who threatened to rape and kill you and told you they know where you live … I mean, obviously.’ Laura looked down at her hands. She had to get through this and she couldn’t look at Jess when she did. ‘But I did post some nasty comments. I created a fake account.’
Jess was silent for the longest time and Laura sat there thinking this is how it ends, the new-found peace between her and her sister. Their mother had always said she didn’t know how Jess ‘put up with Laura’s petty jealousy’. Well done, Mum, you called it.
‘Why?’ Jess squeaked eventually.
Laura shook her head. ‘Because I’m a bitch. Because I’m jealous of you. Because you are always so fucking perfect.’
‘I think you can drop the ‘perfect’ label now you know the truth about me,’ Jess said.
‘Well, at least you’re not a troll.’
‘Yes,’ Jess said sadly. ‘Listen I’ve got to go.’
Laura watched her sister walk out of the door and then she burst into tears.
Chapter Eighty-Two
Laura was done with loss.
A tear rolled down her cheek. She could see a woman at the next table glancing across at her. In other circumstances she might have felt embarrassed about sitting blubbing in Leon but right now she was too miserable to care.
She thought about Jon; how one minute the two of them had been arguing about the bin and the next he was gone. And it wasn’t just Jon Laura had lost when he walked out of that door. In an instant, the childhood she desperately wanted for Billy seemed to disappear. Laura had been so determined that Billy would grow up in a home that was a place of stability and certainty. She hadn’t had that growing up; not just because of her dad’s death, seismic as that was, but also because her mother’s moods were as unpredictable as a British summer. Laura could still remember that, as a teenager, every time she put her key in the front door, she would hover for a second, offering up a silent prayer that all was good on the other side. Laura had promised herself that Billy would have a home that always felt safe, where he was never worried about walking through the front door.
Laura pulled her paper napkin into shreds. She thought about her dad and how the last time she’d ever seen him alive, she’d had absolutely no idea it was the last time. The day had seemed just like any other day. Laura hadn’t paid her dad any particular attention at breakfast. She’d been more caught up with Jess and Mum, wondering if the former was ever going to stop banging on about her stupid piano exam (like she’d get anything but a distinction) and whether the latter was being a bit frosty (Laura couldn’t think of anything in particular she’d done wrong but with Mum it was hard to know). Dad was just there reading his paper and eating his toast and marmalade.
If Laura had realized, she would have drunk in every detail of her dad, she would have stared at him until she had committed every single angle of his face to memory as if she was about to paint him. She would have hugged him with all her strength and told him again and again how much she loved him
‘Bye,’ Dad said, kissing them all and going out to work. Laura couldn’t even remember if she’d looked up from her Weetabix.
A guy was clearing tables. He took one look at Laura and backed away. Better not take her empty packaging.
Laura hadn’t known it was the last time she’d see her mother either. Even though everyone knew Evie was gravely ill, the doctors were reluctant to say exactly how long she had left. So when Laura had trekked to the hospice she was more consumed with why there was such a long wait for the bus and how crappy the weather was instead of thinking: this is it. She had even been – to her subsequent shame – resentful about having to give up her Saturday afternoon. The exchanges between her and her mum had been limited and tetchy. Laura wanted Evie to take her haloperidol, the older woman was focussed on Laura’s hair. (How many people in real life got movie deathbed scenes?)
Laura looked at the empty space across the table where her sister had been sitting.
She did not want to lose Jess.
Chapter Eighty-Three
Less than five minutes after she’d walked out, Jess came back in through the door. She sat opposite Laura, reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘You’re a troll but you’re my troll. Literally my troll, actually.’
Laura managed to laugh through the tears.
‘Also,’ Jess said. ‘It suddenly occurred to me that I’m in no position to take the moral high ground. You know, what with me being a cheat and all that. Which you’ve been very kind and non-judgmental about, by the way. Now, do you want a cup of tea?’
‘Will you poison it?’
‘Probably.’
Laura gave her a watery smile. ‘A cup of tea would be lovely.’ She wiped away a tear from the side of her nose. ‘And a lemon and ginger crunch.’
Chapter Eighty-Four
Laura stood in the school playground. After yesterday, she’d had quite enough difficult conversations, so why she was planning another, she really couldn’t have said. Especially since she kept hearing her mother’s voice screaming inside her head: Don’t do what you always do and go in two feet first.
She crossed the tarmac to talk to Caitlyn’s mother, all the time wondering why she was doing this. Later she would look back and think that there was something about the way Tanya Webb had looked at her when she’d walked past; the haughtiness with which she raised her chin and swished her blonde hair. The way she pointedly stood as far away from Laura as possible as if it was Laura who ought to feel bad.
Laura got closer and closer. Tanya was surrounded by a cluster of women. She’d always been one of the popular mums and she was even more of a magnet recently. Everyone wanted to be seen to be supporting the widow although no one was talking bereavement today and, instead, there was an earnest conversation going on about the box blight that was hitting Dulwich. If you had box plants anywhere in your garden – and why wouldn’t you – this was a serious problem. Heaven help those who had box balls flanking their steps.
‘Hi,’ Laura said, interrupting. ‘I’m Billy’s mum.’
‘I know who you are,’ Tanya said.
‘I wonder if I could have a quick word with you? Privately.’
Tanya exchanged glances with the women around her. Elinor, who was head of the PTA, and had never forgiven Laura for forgetting her shift at that one cake sale, looked at her with naked hostility. Tanya stepped about a foot away from them.
‘So,’ Laura said. ‘It seems that Caitlyn and Billy have had a few problems recently.’ She waited for Tanya to say she was so sorry that Caitlyn had been upsetting Billy and she was going to make sure it didn’t happen again. But Tanya just stared at her coolly. ‘I understand that this must be a very difficult time for Caitlyn.’
Nothing.
‘But this has all been affecting Billy very badly. He has been saying he doesn’t want to come to school in the mornings. He has been getting tummy aches.’
Finally the other woman spoke. ‘It sounds like he’s quite over-emotional.’
Laura took a deep breath. PTA Elinor was looking over. Oh, keep your beak out, you tragic cow who does PowerPoint presentations about the secondhand uniform sale! We all know you were a high-flyer in the City before giving up work to concentrate on your poor children. ‘He’s not over-emotional. He’s just upset because he’s constantly being left out of things. Ostracized.’
‘So he says.’
Laura could feel the anger rising inside her. ‘No, not so he says. So Miss Newman says and Mrs Harris.’
‘Miss Newman is very young.’
‘So? Also, Mrs Harris isn’t very young. She has been a teaching assistant for years.’
Tanya shrugged.
‘You have to believe them.’
‘I don’t have to do anything.’
Laura blew out her cheeks. ‘Listen, I’m trying to talk to you nicely about this; mum to mum. B
ut if you won’t at least try to sort things out, then I’m going to have to take action. Your daughter is bullying Billy and it’s simply not acceptable.’
‘Bullying is a strong word. Caitlyn doesn’t have to like Billy.’
‘No, of course she doesn’t.’ Laura couldn’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t like Billy; her sweet little baby. ‘But that doesn’t mean she’s allowed to turn other kids in the class against him. Or tell him she hopes his guinea pig dies.’
‘Who told you she said that?’
‘Billy.’
‘And no one else heard it?’
‘What difference does that make?’
‘What difference it makes is that it sounds to me as if Billy is just making it up. Just like he made up everything else. It sounds to me like he’s an unhappy little boy who doesn’t have many friends and he’s just trying to get attention.’
Laura stared at her in disbelief.
Tanya turned on her heel.
‘That’s it? You’re just walking away?’
‘Well, what do you want me to say?’
‘I want you to say that you’re sorry that your little cow of a daughter has been upsetting my son.’
‘Oh, we’re calling five-year-olds names now, are we? That’s very mature.’
Laura felt about two feet tall, especially as she was sure she could hear tutting from the nearby coven. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that this is all very upsetting.’
‘Yes, I can see you’re upset. No wonder Billy is such an emotional child. But, you know what, I watched my husband die of cancer recently. So this I can cope with.’
Really? She was playing that card? ‘I’m sorry about your husband. I also had a bereavement recently. My mother.’
Tanya stared at her, her face clearly showing she knew she had aced the game of Grief Trumps.
‘If you could just try to talk to Caitlyn?’
‘If you want.’
‘If I want? Yes, I want. You need to explain to your daughter that her behaviour is not okay. That it’s important to include people. Oh, and by the way, I don’t think it was particularly kind of you to allow her to invite everyone but Billy to her birthday party.’
‘She can invite who she wants to her party.’
‘There are twenty-six kids in the class and you invited twenty-five. It’s just not the done thing. We had a party for Billy and we invited everyone, even Angus Murray. Do you think we wanted Angus Murray there? Of course we didn’t!’ Laura was shouting now and, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Angus’ mum staring at her. Christ!
‘I can’t have this conversation with you anymore,’ Tanya said. ‘It’s less than two months since Simon died.’ Her eyes filled with tears, and even though Laura was almost sure they were fake, they immediately got the sympathy of the crowd, with PTA Elinor rushing over to lead Tanya back to the safety of their gaggle and shooting Laura a hostile look before leaving her standing completely alone.
The playground bully.
Chapter Eighty-Five
Laura opened the door to see Jon in a white rhinestone-encrusted suit clutching a suitcase and two bulging black bin bags.
‘Can I crash here? Jimmy has booted me out. Well, Maja really. Jimmy said the words but they were coming from her.’
Laura’s brain was struggling to process. It was eleven o’clock at night. She had been replaying her earlier conversation with Tanya Webb and wondering if there was a single person in that playground who had been on her side (not judging by their faces). She was just about to clean her teeth and fall into bed. But now she was standing here in the doorway with her strangely attired ex asking if he could stay over. ‘Why are you dressed like that?’
‘Oh, I’m Elvis. A woman in the supermarket said I looked just like him. That she ran a lookalike agency and I could make good money just for turning up at parties and store openings.’
Laura guessed he did look a bit like Elvis. He’d certainly looked very much like the young Elvis when she’d first met him, and she supposed there was still a look there now if you squinted. Elvis in the later years – after all those deep-fried peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches.
‘What happened with Jimmy?’
‘Can I come in?’
‘I suppose so. I don’t think you can stay though. It’ll be too confusing for Billy when he wakes up in the morning.’
‘He’d love it.’
‘That’s not really the point.’
Jon sighed heavily. ‘Fine. I’ll just stay on the sofa tonight and then tomorrow I’ll go to my parents. I just know they’re going to drive me nuts though.’
Laura felt like saying that she was pretty sure his parents didn’t dream about having their thirty-nine-year-old son and his black bin bags move back in with them either. And that even if your parents did drive you nuts, you should remember that one day you suddenly wouldn’t have them. That it would feel weird using the term ‘orphan’ because you felt too old for it, but that was what you were, and anyway, not having any parents did make you feel like a little kid.
She stepped aside to let him in. Had he dyed his hair darker for this ‘role’? She was pretty sure he had. ‘You could rent a flat.’
He looked at her like she had suggested he run the North Pole Marathon. Naked.
He set the suitcase and bin bags down in the hall. ‘How does it feel to be the pariah of the playground?’
Laura groaned. ‘Marvellous.’
Jon grinned. ‘I could do with a beer.’
‘There are some in the fridge.’
He helped himself to a beer, settled down on the sofa and rested his feet on the coffee table.
‘If you do stay tonight, you’ll have to leave before Billy wakes up.’
A look of irritation passed over his face. ‘But he gets up at half six.’
‘Jon.’
‘Fine.’
She sat on the sofa next to him, fiddling with her mother’s locket. She’d taken to wearing it recently, not so much because she liked it but more because it seemed like the right thing to do after making so much fuss about having it. ‘What happened with Jimmy?’
He took a swig of his beer. ‘Like I said, it wasn’t really Jimmy, it was Maja. She got all arsey because she said I never helped around the flat. Said she was always cooking us delicious dinners – they were actually rank – and then I couldn’t even be bothered to do the washing up.’
‘Mmm hmm.’
Jon looked at her and rolled his eyes. ‘She’s a cow. And Jimmy’s pussy-whipped. I never thought he would be, but he is.’
‘That’s not a particularly charming expression, Jon.’
He shrugged. ‘Billy okay?’
Laura had told him all about the Caitlyn situation on the phone earlier. ‘I guess. I hate to think of that little madam being mean to him.’
‘I know,’ Jon said, sipping his beer. ‘Poor little man. I’m sorry I told you everything was fine when you first said you were worried. We should have listened to your instincts. Although maybe not unleashed you in the playground!’
She gave him a mock punch in the ribs and then gestured towards the outfit. ‘So I assume you were doing lookalike work tonight?’
‘Nah, I’m just method.’
She laughed.
‘I did a meet-and-greet in Catford.’
‘And were they suitably delighted to have Elvis in the building?’
‘I hope so. It’s only the second gig I’ve done.’
‘I’ve always thought it must be so weird to be a lookalike. No offence.’
He grinned. ‘It is weird. But it’s easy work and it pays good money. I really like the woman who runs the agency too. She’s this little five-foot firecracker who knocks everyone into shape. You should have heard her on the phone to “Victoria” about how she has to stop falling out with “David” all the time. “No one wants Victoria without David,” she told her.’
‘Haha! Well, Elvis, I’m going to bid you goodnight. You know where the spare
duvet is.’
‘I was going to be Jesus,’ Jon said, as she was about to leave the room. ‘But Shirley said there’s not much call for Jesus nowadays.’
Laura felt as if she might be in a dream.
Chapter Eighty-Six
Despite the fact Jess had been ridiculously forgiving about the whole trolling thing, and the two of them were getting on so much better recently, Laura couldn’t help but feel a ripple of irritation when she got a message from Jess saying she needed to talk to Laura about something.
People didn’t say they needed to talk to you about something when it was just a casual chat. You didn’t ‘need to talk to someone’ to say you’d made a banging fish pie the night before or caught a great new programme on Netflix.
Jess must want to tell Laura off about something (Laura couldn’t think of any recent transgressions, but who knew). Either that or she wanted to issue a fresh set of bossy instructions.
Either way Laura hated the portentousness of it all. If you’ve got something to say, then bloody well spit it out. Don’t trail it in advance.
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Laura and Jess were at the funfair with the kids but nobody was having much fun.
Jess had called Laura at 6.45 that morning. ‘Ben knows,’ she said, her voice breaking.
Laura gasped. ‘Oh, God. When you said you had something you wanted to talk to me about I never imagined it would be that.’ She felt guilty now about being irritated.
‘What?’ Jess said, sounding confused. ‘Oh, that was … something else. Ben didn’t find out until last night.’
‘Oh,’ Laura said. Part of her wanted to press for information – so what the bloody hell were you trailing before? – but given what a state her sister was in, it seemed a little insensitive.
Laura and Jess stood at the bottom of the luridly-coloured helter-skelter. It was a gloriously sunny May day; the weather not having got the memo about the mood. ‘So, tell me what happened,’ Laura said.
