by K. L. Slater
As per her usual routine, Miss Diane pushes open the double entrance doors.
I scurry up the steps and she staggers back slightly, clearly surprised.
‘Sorry to startle you,’ I say, a little breathlessly. ‘Could I have a quick word? It’s really important.’
‘Of course.’ She smiles. ‘Come through, Emma, and I’ll catch up with you as soon as all the girls are safely out.’
I could hug her, I feel so grateful she can give me a few minutes. As I walk past her, I notice her smile dissolve as she spots something outside. When I turn round, I see that Joanne has just pulled up in her car.
I step to the side of the entrance porch and wait.
The girls cluster together on their way out, giggling, hunched over their phones. One of the groups contains a surly-looking Piper and a few of Maisie’s friends. Piper looks up and meets my stare as she passes, narrowing her eyes and smirking without any fear of reprisal. The light-hearted mood she came in with seems to have dissipated for some reason.
Inappropriate it may be, but it takes all my resolve not to grab her arm and pull her to one side to reprimand her. It’s scary, the powerful wave of emotion that ebbs and flows within me on behalf of my daughter.
I feel like my heart will burst with sadness when Maisie finally appears, dawdling behind everyone else, alone. Her head remains down as she shuffles along with an expression like she has the weight of the world on her thin little shoulders.
‘Maisie!’
She looks up almost fearfully, and her eyes widen when she sees it’s me.
‘Mum, what are you doing here?’ She glances at Miss Diane’s back as she talks to a parent at the door. ‘Please don’t cause any trouble. You promised.’
Actually, I did nothing of the sort. I just didn’t comment when she asked me not to go down to school.
‘I’m not going to cause any trouble.’ I ruffle her lank dark curls. ‘I need to speak to Miss Diane and I want you to wait here. I won’t be long.’
Her expression darkens. ‘What are you going to say to her? Why can’t I be there?’
‘I just need to speak to her about various things. Nothing for you to worry about, poppet.’
‘Right. I’m all yours!’ Miss Diane turns, beaming. She looks from me to Maisie and back again.
‘I wanted a private word, if that’s OK,’ I tell her. ‘Maisie is going to wait here.’
‘Perfect. I’ll lock the doors and then we know our little dancer will be safe.’ Miss Diane smiles at Maisie and she gets a lukewarm response. I’m embarrassed.
We go into a side room and Miss Diane closes the door before we both perch on plastic chairs.
‘Thanks for seeing me,’ I begin, awkwardly. ‘I wanted to ask if you’ve noticed a change in Maisie? It seems her friends have all but deserted her lately.’
‘Oh no, I certainly hope that’s not the case.’ She frowns for a moment, thinking. ‘You see, the girls don’t really chat much during lessons, as they’re expected to focus on their dancing. But I would have thought Maisie would be full of excitement rather than down in the doldrums.’
I stare at her, not quite sure what she means.
‘Hasn’t she told you?’ Her smile fades a little. ‘I announced during the class that I’m giving her the role of Dorothy in the Christmas show.’
‘What? No, she hasn’t! That’s wonderful, thank you so much.’ My cheeks colour with pride for Maisie. I haven’t had much chance to speak to her but I know that just a few weeks ago, she would’ve blurted out her news before I even uttered a word.
‘In answer to your question, I hadn’t noticed anything about her friends, but I’ll certainly keep an eye out now.’ She hesitates, as if she’s not sure whether to say something. ‘There are certain mothers who are rather pushy, I’m sure you know that, Emma. One in particular causes a lot of trouble when I give other children the chance to step into the spotlight.’
I know exactly who she’s talking about. An unexpected rage sweeps through me like the blast from a furnace door.
I honestly don’t know what comes over me. I jump up and storm past Miss Diane, past Maisie in the foyer. I slide the bolts back on the double doors, fly down the steps and collar Joanne Dent in front of all the other dance mums.
Chapter Forty-Three
Val
When Emma rang, Val was just on her way out to attend an over-sixties keep fit class at the local leisure centre.
She pushed the telephone handset closer to her ear, trying to understand what the problem was. Her daughter babbled on so fast and Val’s hearing wasn’t what it used to be. But she could hear that Emma was distressed, and that decided it for her.
‘I’m on my way over,’ she said. ‘Put the kettle on, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.’
She texted Kath to let her know something important had come up and that she wouldn’t be able to make the class after all, and then she drove across town to Emma’s house.
The traffic was thankfully still bearable, just on the cusp of rush hour, and Val made good progress. On the way, she thought about some of the things she wanted to say to her daughter; a conversation that was long overdue.
Unbeknown to Emmeline, Shaun had been in touch, concerned about Emma’s increasing unpredictable behaviour, he’d said. Val had been pleased to hear from her son-in-law; had always thought of him as a good husband and father. She could hardly blame him for moving on.
‘I noticed the house was in disarray when I last visited. I admit I’ve been worried she’s slipping back into the habits of her difficult time.’ She paused, knowing he would understand exactly what she meant. ‘Has Maisie said anything about her mum?’
‘No, no, it’s just a few things I put together. Maisie seems to have developed a bit of a mean streak with Piper, and Emma has told me that she feels worrying things are happening to her that she can’t explain away: a couple of flat tyres a while ago, a broken window… She feels someone has got it in for her.’
‘Not that again,’ Val muttered.
‘Exactly. And Joanne – you know she’s Emma’s boss?’
‘Hmm.’ Val’s loyalty to Emma wouldn’t permit her to fully acknowledge or side with this new, attractive woman who seemed so sorted.
‘Well, Jo has noticed Emma making mistakes at work – unable to meet her deadlines, that sort of thing – and yet Maisie says all she does at home is work.’
‘And you said something about Maisie being mean?’
‘Emma says she doesn’t want to come over to Joanne’s so much, but I think that’s Emma’s own influence, because she’s upset about me and Joanne.’ He paused. ‘Maisie seems withdrawn lately, and she’s been very unpleasant to Piper, who is trying her level best to make her feel welcome.’
Val had noticed that Emma didn’t ask her to have Maisie much lately; she just used her as a pick-up, drop-off service for school and dancing. Val had also been called upon when Maisie had been off school with a tummy bug.
‘Leave it with me,’ she told Shaun. ‘I’ll try and talk to Emma, but you of all people know she can be quite stubborn.’
‘Oh yes,’ Shaun agreed. ‘That I certainly do know. Thanks, Val.’
So after that conversation, Emma’s phone call asking Val to go over there had, in the event, been quite opportune.
When she arrived at the house, Emma was already waiting for her at the door, looking rather dishevelled.
‘What’s wrong, love? Where’s Maisie?’
‘She’s upstairs, Mum. She’s fine.’ Emma swallowed, running a hand through her tousled hair. ‘Actually, she’s not fine at all, but she’s not in any actual danger at the moment.’
‘Danger?’ Val repeated faintly, stepping into the hallway and walking directly into the kitchen while Emma closed and locked the front door behind her.
It all sounded rather worrying. Val defaulted to her first port of call in a crisis and made some tea.
The two women sat in silence for a moment or two before
Emma began to speak.
‘Mum, have you noticed that Maisie has lost quite a lot of weight recently?’
Val thought for a moment. ‘It’s hard to tell, love. She’s started wearing all these baggy garments. I thought it must be some kind of hip-hop trend.’
Emma gave a tiny smile despite her obvious distress. ‘No, it isn’t that, Mum.’
‘Well as you know, she doesn’t come over as often as she used to, but when she does, she always eats her meals. She didn’t last week because she felt poorly, of course.’
‘She normally eats, though?’ Emma brightened a touch. ‘At home, she never seems to be hungry, so I find that encouraging.’
‘Her plate is always clean, never much food left,’ Val confirmed.
‘That makes me feel better. Only I walked in on her in the shower and I was shocked at how thin she’s become.’
‘Oh.’ Val’s face dropped. ‘I don’t like the sound of that. Have you spoken to her about it?’
‘Every time I ask her what’s wrong, she insists she’s fine. But her body doesn’t lie, and besides, it’s more than that. She’s got no energy, she spends hours upstairs. I barely see her when we’re home.’
Emma grimaced and took a deep breath.
‘I’m afraid I got rather carried away after Maisie’s dance class today, Mum. I tore a strip off Joanne Dent in front of the other mums. I accused her of things that I absolutely suspect are true, but haven’t got any actual proof of.’
‘Oh dear.’ Val clasped her fingers together.
‘She’s my bloody boss when all’s said and done. I should’ve kept my big mouth shut.’
‘What exactly did you say to her?’ Val imagined Shaun might well be calling her again later that evening.
‘It was just a red mist,’ Emma confessed. ‘I remember saying something about her own jealousy and that brattish daughter of hers, but I can’t recall my exact words. I can just remember the look of horror on the faces of the other mums.’
‘Oh Lord.’ Val glanced behind her at the copious paperwork covering the worktop. ‘Looks like you’re snowed under as usual, Emmeline. Have you discussed your concerns about Maisie with Shaun?’
Emma’s face darkened. ‘No, he isn’t interested, Mum. He’s too busy with his new family; with Joanne and Piper. It’s so hurtful for Maisie and I think they’re quite mean to her behind Shaun’s back. Between you and me, I think that’s part of the problem.’
Val shifted uneasily in her seat. After Shaun’s phone call and then Emma’s assertions, she felt she was a very difficult position. ‘Do you want me to talk to Maisie, love?’
‘I think that might be a good idea, but first, I’ve made a doctor’s appointment for her first thing Tuesday morning. I haven’t told her yet. She’s going to kick against it but she’s going. It’s not up for negotiation.’
‘Very sensible, I think, under the circumstances.’
‘Maybe the doctor showing concern might shock her out of this rut she seems to be in.’
‘Let’s hope so.’ Val put down her mug. ‘Perhaps you could speak to Joanne. Apologise?’
‘Whatever I said, I feel justified. Miss Diane virtually admitted that Joanne is forcing her always to favour her daughter at the detriment of the other girls. She owns the dance school property, you see. Joanne is such a bitch and nobody ever challenges—’
Val coughed, interrupting her daughter. She had to calm her down somehow.
‘And how are you, Emmeline? How are you bearing up with all this change?’
She watched as her daughter’s eyes darted nervously around the room.
‘I’m OK.’ She hesitated. ‘I feel a little unnerved, if I’m honest, Mum. Things keep happening. Small things that seem to have perfectly good explanations, but I just have this bad feeling that something terrible is going to take place.’
‘Sounds like textbook anxiety to me,’ Val said gently. ‘You’ve had enough experience of it by now to recognise it. Don’t neglect yourself, love. You can only care for Maisie if you’re in a healthy place yourself.’
‘I got this in the mail today.’ Emma pulled out an envelope from the back pocket of her jeans. She extracted a single sheet of notepaper and handed it to Val.
Val reached into her handbag for her reading glasses and read the short letter.
‘This looks like your handwriting, Emmeline.’
She watched as her daughter’s face flushed. ‘I know, but I can assure you it isn’t. I wouldn’t send it to myself, would I?’
‘Of course not. But it sounds a bit cryptic. What does it mean?’
Emma explained quickly about the other things that had happened recently.
‘Don’t you see, Mum? Someone is trying to frighten me. To someone else, the note doesn’t sound threatening at all. At first I was convinced it was something to do with what happened… you know, back then.’
Val nodded; how could she forget? It had been an ordeal for the whole family.
‘But while I was waiting for you to come over just now, I realised I’ve distracted myself with the past, and now I have a far more plausible explanation.’
‘You do?’ Val took another sip of tea, hoping Emma had come up with a sensible theory.
Emma looked over her shoulder to check they were still alone.
‘I think Joanne Dent wrote it,’ she whispered. ‘I think Shaun told her about what happened to me, about how ill I became because of it, and I think she’s trying to push me over the edge so she can get me out of this house and have my husband and daughter all to herself.’
‘Heavens above,’ Val said, trying not to show her growing concern about Emma’s very obvious paranoia. ‘All this worrying is going to do you no good whatsoever. I think, at Maisie’s appointment, you should mention to the doctor how you’re feeling too.’
‘I actually feel fine now I’ve realised it’s her. I just have to decide what to do about it.’
‘That’s quite a claim, Emmeline. I’d be careful not to start throwing accusations of that nature around, especially when they involve a criminal lawyer.’
‘She’s clever, Mum, I’ll give you that.’ Emma stared into the middle distance, a strange smile on her face. ‘But she isn’t clever enough to fool me. There’s something that doesn’t quite add up about Joanne Dent, but trust me, I intend to find out what it is. Even if it kills me.’
Chapter Forty-Four
Emma
After my mother has left the house, I sit and reflect on our conversation. Maisie hasn’t spoken to me since the incident at the dance school, and refused to come out of her bedroom even to see Mum off.
I’m certain my mum doesn’t believe me about the note, or about Joanne’s hidden personality. The way she looks at me, I can see she thinks it’s all in my imagination.
Everyone who meets her thinks my mum is such a lovely person, and she is in a lot of ways. She’s mellowed a great deal. But I know of a different side to her. An aspect of her personality that was far more prevalent during my childhood.
Unforgiving, critical, and worst of all, supportive of my father’s tyranny and cruel words.
I don’t want to think back to that time now. We’ve moved on as people, and I’m sure she did the best she could at the time. For many years it felt normal to me; until I had my own daughter, that is.
That’s when I knew with every fibre of my being that I would never allow a man to treat my daughter in that way.
And that’s why it will always hurt, even if we never talk about it.
Before she went home, Mum popped upstairs to Maisie’s room. She was up there for about ten minutes, and when she came down, she looked concerned.
‘I think you’re right. She has lost a lot of weight,’ she whispered. ‘It was easier to see in her pyjamas. They used to pull a little across her tummy and thighs, and now there’s oodles of bagging fabric.’
I nodded, relieved she’d seen it for herself.
‘I wouldn’t worry yourself too much, thou
gh. She says she feels well enough and that she just wants a break from going to Joanne’s house and dancing, so she can chill out at home for a while.’ Mum hesitated. ‘I asked her about Joanne and Piper and she shrugged and said they’re OK. By that, I take it she means they’re not her favourite people but are tolerable.’
‘I don’t think she tells me everything that happens there,’ I said, but Mum didn’t comment. ‘As for dancing, it’s one of the few things that still gets her out of her bedroom.’
I’m shaken from my thoughts by my phone ringing. When I check the screen, I see it’s Mum calling. She must have only just got home.
‘Emmeline?’ She’s breathless and she sounds upset.
‘Mum, are you OK?’
‘Yes, but… I went straight upstairs when I got home, you know, after what you said about Maisie not eating. I just had this strange feeling driving back and then… I found it all, in her bedroom!’
‘Mum. Slow down, what are you saying?’ I feel sick with dread at hearing what’s bothering her, but she’s making no sense at all at the moment.
‘I checked her bedroom at mine. I looked in her bedside cupboard where she keeps her magazines and there was food. Lots of rotting food, all wrapped in paper towels.’ Mum suppresses a sob. ‘She hasn’t been eating at all. She’s been fooling me, hiding the food. Why is she doing this?’
The strangest sense of calmness descends on me.
‘It’s good you’ve found out, Mum,’ I say slowly. ‘Because now we know for sure that someone is hurting Maisie in the most deceitful way.’
‘What do you mean?’ Mum wails, unnerved. ‘Hurting her how?’
‘It’s clear that someone has got to her. Emotionally. They’re trying to destroy Maisie from the inside out.’
I just can’t get to sleep tonight.
All afternoon I’ve ignored texts and phone calls from Shaun. I bolted the doors on the inside in case he tried to gain entry with his key. But remarkably, he didn’t come over.
