by K. L. Slater
‘I’m sure that’s not true. They’re envious, maybe, but hate is a strong word. Getting the part is something to be proud of and celebrate, and we’re not going to let anyone spoil that for you.’ She stares stonily at the floor. ‘Your dad said you were able to borrow one of Piper’s swimming costumes for the party.’
Her pale cheeks flush and she takes a tiny sip of water.
‘Did you feel comfortable wearing it?’
‘It was too tight,’ she says.
‘Good job you only had to suffer it for a couple of hours then.’ I grin.
Maisie doesn’t smile. ‘I looked fat.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ I huff. ‘I’m sure you looked perfectly lovely.’
‘I looked FAT.’ She glares at me. ‘They said I did.’
‘Who did?’ I feel suddenly sick, realising how awful it must have been for her.
‘All of them. They made up a song about it and kept singing it when the mums went up to the café.’
‘Even Piper?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it any more,’ she says, and with that she stands up and walks out of the kitchen and upstairs. I hear her bedroom door open and then close with a dull thud.
It’s obvious that Piper is a slight child with a much smaller frame than Maisie, who is in no way fat but who has quite wide shoulders and is longer in the body.
Surely Joanne would have the sense to select a suitable swimsuit for her to borrow, perhaps one that was too big for her daughter. It doesn’t take much to see the difference in the two girls and understand that Maisie is hardly going to feel comfortable in a costume that fits Piper.
I pick up my phone and call Shaun. It puts me straight through to voicemail.
‘Just to let you know, Maisie’s very upset. The girls were teasing her at the party, saying she looked fat. Did she tell you? They’re probably jealous about Miss Diane giving her the lead role in the Christmas show. Apparently Piper heard it all, possibly even joined in. Can you ask Joanne about it?’
I end the call, aware that my message will sound curt when he listens to it, but I won’t lose any sleep over that.
I’m angry with Shaun. He must have known Maisie was upset when she asked to come home early, but instead of getting to the bottom of what was bothering her, he just blindly agreed to bring her back and wasn’t honest about what happened at the party.
And instead of supervising the girls, it sounds like Joanne just buggered off up to the café with the other mothers for a good gossip.
I felt secure in the knowledge that Joanne understood all about ten-year-old girls and how cruel they can be. Now, I’m not so sure.
I hear a cry from upstairs and I tear up to Maisie’s bedroom.
She’s sitting on the edge of her bed, bent double over her knees and gasping in air. I know she left her bag downstairs with her inhaler in.
‘It’s OK, it’s fine. Just slow down, slow your breathing down.’ I force myself to speak calmly, and sit next to her rubbing the top of her back. ‘Breathe, that’s it. That’s good.’
I snatch up a paper bag from the floor and empty out the new hair bobbles that are in it. Then I open it up and hold it to Maisie’s face.
‘Breathe in and out, into the bag. That’s it, sweetie. Well done.’ Her breathing deepens and slows a touch. ‘Keep going. Brilliant.’
I help her to sit up straighter.
‘Wh-what’s wrong with me, Mum?’
Her eyes are wide and dark as she looks pleadingly at me. My heart feels like it’s cracking.
‘You’ve had a panic attack, I think. It’s not serious, don’t worry, poppet.’ I play it down while inside I’m burning up with concern. ‘Are you worried about something?’
I know exactly what she’s worried about, but I have to give her the chance to open up to me. Dr Yesufu said to keep communication open between us as much as possible.
She stares at me, and neither of us speaks for a moment. I feel like she’s ready to confide in me, so I wait. And then she breaks her gaze.
‘You know you can tell me anything, Maisie. Anything at all.’
I know she doesn’t like going to Joanne’s house and I know there’s been some teasing by the sounds of it. But what I’m seeing in my daughter goes beyond that. It’s as if someone is being so mean or frightening, it’s actually changing her personality.
A few weeks ago, I knew everything about my Maisie, and now… we hardly seem close at all.
‘I’m OK,’ she says, turning away from me.
Chapter Fifty
Maisie
I want to tell Mum, I do. But I don’t know what to tell her.
I just hate being around her. The way she looks at me, like I’m disgusting. She’s really good at doing it so nobody else sees.
And the way she says stuff out loud sometimes so other people laugh at me when we’re at the dance school.
She’s always kind and pretends she likes me, but it’s just for show. Dad would never understand, either. He just sees the best in everyone.
She says she’s telling me stuff so that people will like me, to make me look better, but it just makes me feel sad inside and hate myself.
And every single time, after she’s said horrible things, she tells me she’s doing it for my own good.
She says nobody would ever believe me against her.
I think she’s right.
Chapter Fifty-One
Joanne
She placed the croissants and preserves on the table, then a jug of orange juice and glasses. Finally she brought over the pot of fresh coffee.
‘You’re spoiling me.’ Shaun smiled, looking at the spread. ‘This is wonderful. Thank you.’
‘I thought it might tempt you to sit down and relax. Enjoy your breakfast, instead of worrying.’
He sighed, nodding as she offered to pour him a coffee.
He looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, thanks to that mad mare Emma. Who’d have thought she’d turn out to be such a paranoid, over-defensive parent when she seemed so logical and capable at work?
Joanne had deliberately stayed away from the office until she decided what to do about Emma’s outburst at the dance school. Actually, it had been laughable, accusing her of being jealous that Maisie had been chosen for the lead role in the Christmas show. And claiming that Joanne was somehow to blame for Maisie having no friends.
The woman had been furious and almost incoherent. Miss Diane had virtually fainted with embarrassment behind her.
And since Maisie’s visit, Emma had been calling and texting Shaun all night. When he’d finally spoken to her, she was almost hysterical with rage, blaming him for the fact that Maisie had had some kind of panic attack after spending time at the apartment with them, and specifically at the swimming party.
‘Maisie has never had a panic attack in her life.’ Shaun shook his head when he finally got off the phone. ‘And all this weight she’s losing… I’m beginning to wonder if it’s being on her own with her mother that’s driving her crazy.’
He wasn’t joking.
‘Maybe she’d be better off if I had full custody.’
That had stopped Joanne in her tracks. Yet the more she thought about it, the more she realised it could work.
So, when Piper announced she had a sleepover at one of her new dance friends’ houses, Joanne decided to use the opportunity to broach the subject of his ex-wife and daughter with Shaun. Hence their leisurely breakfast.
She’d noticed how adept Shaun had become at finding something to do when Emma made yet another ridiculous accusation. She also saw how strained his face looked yesterday, how he went out and sat on one of the benches in the grounds and stared endlessly at the old oak trees that framed the boundary of the communal gardens until she called him in.
Perhaps it was time for her to take control of the situation.
She watched now as Shaun reached for a croissant and began to spread it thickly with butter.
‘I thought we might talk about Emma while we’re on our own,’ she ventured.
‘Not much to talk about.’ He shrugged. ‘Emma is Emma. She’d pick a fight with herself.’
‘You must realise we can’t just allow her to make these wild accusations, Shaun? Word gets around, and I’m friends with lots of the mothers who were at the swimming party, know them professionally. She’s already made a fool of herself in front of the dance mums.’
‘And?’
‘And you can’t just ignore this stuff. It needs dealing with. Surely you can see she’s getting worse. You said it yourself, all this nonsense about someone having a grudge and breaking windows, pulling out plants, while I’m in line for the wicked stepmother from hell award… It’s madness.’
He took a bite of his pastry and chewed it slowly.
‘She’s causing trouble everywhere,’ Joanne continued. ‘Look at what you said happened at her last company.’
‘What happened there wasn’t really her fault, Jo. She couldn’t have known what her colleague would do and she honestly thought she was doing the right thing in reporting him.’
‘But my point is, there’s a trend there. Making trouble for people.’
‘Hmm. She’s obviously in a bad place at the moment,’ Shaun said. ‘I’ll have a chat with her.’
Bad place! Now he was making excuses for her. Just like he did all the time with Maisie, who could be quite spoilt and needy, Joanne had noticed. The slightest wrong word from Piper, and Maisie had a complete meltdown when she got home to her mother.
If Emma had some kind of personality defect, then it was quite likely Maisie had inherited the trait. Sometimes, the way she stared at Piper when they were watching TV downstairs… it chilled Joanne.
You read stuff all the time about kids hurting other kids. Maisie was taller and way bigger built than Piper.
Joanne had tried to talk to her several times about her weight, but it was like wading through treacle. The kid just didn’t want to listen.
Well, it wasn’t her problem, it was Shaun’s. If he only recognised it. At the moment, he seemed intent on keeping his head down and hoping Emma would go away.
A ploy that didn’t seem to be working.
‘Aren’t you going to eat?’ Shaun’s voice cut through her thoughts.
‘Course.’ She reached for a croissant and spread it thinly with strawberry jam. It felt like cardboard in her mouth as she chewed.
‘I’ll try and speak to Emma about the swimming party today,’ Shaun said. ‘I need to talk to her about the house, too.’
Joanne breathed a sigh of relief. She’d fully expected him to procrastinate about raising the prickly subject.
The last thing she wanted was to be saddled with Maisie full-time, but at least she’d be able to exert some proper control over the girl if she came to live with them. She felt confident she’d soon lick her into shape, if she could only get her away from Emma’s grasp.
She could see the four of them in a nice big house in its own grounds in a picturesque village setting, somewhere like Colston Bassett which was over twenty miles away from her current apartment in Linby. A beautiful rural setting where she could get some wear out of her Hunter wellies and Barbour jacket, but only twenty minutes from the city centre where she felt at home in her sharp suits and Gucci flats. Perfect.
She’d a little work to do on Shaun, to convince him that Maisie would be better off at the same school as Piper, but she was good at convincing people to follow her advice. It was one of her most effective skills.
Luckily, Shaun wasn’t a man who felt intimidated by his partner being the main breadwinner. Conveniently, it also meant that Joanne naturally had a bigger say in any decisions that involved money.
Maybe this time, she could make it work. Bury her own insecurities and embrace the idea of a blended family. The real fly in the ointment was Emma.
Emma might be intent on causing trouble for them at every turn, but it was all just playground stuff. None of it really bothered her, because Emma had no reach.
Her life was all work and pandering to her oversensitive daughter.
Perhaps Maisie would be better off living with them. They could be a proper family then.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Emma
‘You might be able to talk Shaun round to believing your twisted little fantasies, but don’t try it with me, because I’m telling you now, it won’t wash.’
I shrink away from Joanne’s wild eyes and bared teeth as she leans across her desk after asking me to pop up to see her. I glance across at Anya’s office, but she’s not there. Joanne’s far too clever to show her true colours when there’s anyone else around.
‘What are you talking about?’ I bite my lip in an effort to stop my eyes stinging. ‘How would you feel if your daughter was made to feel inferior like that?’
She seems to catch herself acting aggressively and sits back, takes a breath.
‘I appreciate you must be worried about Maisie’s weight. We’ve all noticed it. But what you can’t do is blame other people for it.’
I’d swear this woman is a completely different person to the one I’ve worked with. She’s always seemed so calm and rational… so together. I wonder if Shaun has seen this other side to her.
Granted, I embarrassed her at the dance school, but I didn’t expect this at work. She must’ve been saving it up.
‘Look, Emma, I don’t know what’s happening in your head. If I’m perfectly honest, I don’t care. A few weeks ago, you gave us your blessing, and now it seems you’re hell-bent on trying to cause trouble for us.’
‘That’s not true,’ I say. ‘But I’ll not sit back and let Maisie be pushed into the shadows.’
Joanne laughs. ‘She manages that all on her own. I hear Piper asking all the time if she wants to watch something on TV or play a computer game in her bedroom. If you want the awful truth, your daughter is jealous of mine. She’s jealous of how she looks, what she has, and she’s jealous because Shaun and Piper get on so well.’
Fury whirls around my chest like a cyclone. I stand up and bang the desk with the flat of my hand.
‘Just so long as you and Piper both remember that Shaun is Maisie’s father, and legally, right now he’s still my husband. So just be careful if you think you’ve got your feet firmly and permanently under the fucking table, Little Miss Perfect.’
And with that, even though it’s only mid morning, I stalk from her office, down the stairs and out of the building.
I jump into my car and drive to a small park quite close to home but off the beaten track.
I park up on the rough gravel at the entrance but I don’t get out. It’s cold, and I came away without my jacket, so I leave the engine running and the heater blasting.
There’s nobody else here at all and the isolation is just what I need to wind down after the unpleasant altercation with Joanne.
The three of us used to come here when Maisie was small. There are a few pieces of play equipment in the fenced-off children’s area where Shaun and I used to sit on a bench while Maisie ran around and let off some steam.
We’d often talk about the future, about when Maisie was older, what we’d be doing, where we’d be working. It was all unknown at that point; the only thing we were certain of was that we’d be together.
Joanne has probably already been on the phone ensuring Shaun knows her side of what happened, what was said. Everything carefully constructed to frame me as the unreasonable, desperate ex-wife.
But who have I got to rant to? My mother, and that’s about it. And that’s not going to happen because I know she still holds me accountable for Shaun and me splitting up in the first place.
Never mind. It’s quiet thinking time I need right now, because something is bothering me that I can’t quite put my finger on. Something that would be really hard to explain to anyone else.
Joanne seems to me like a person without a past. I know that sounds really weird, but it’s as
near as I can get to the feeling that everything she does, everything she says, is an act. And that nobody really knows the person who is underneath it all.
I’ve asked Shaun a couple of innocuous questions over the past few weeks, just the usual: how long was she married before, where is she from.
And he doesn’t know the answers. I know my husband well enough to spot when he’s being evasive or just doesn’t want to discuss his new life with me. I’m pretty certain that’s not what is behind his shoulder shrug every time I raise a question about Joanne’s past.
He really doesn’t know.
‘Maybe you should ask her a bit about her background,’ I suggested to him recently. ‘Show some interest.’
‘Joanne is a big believer in drawing a line under what’s gone before,’ he said easily. ‘Piper’s father died in a tragedy too bad to speak of, that’s all I know. They don’t talk about him now because Piper was too young to remember much about him and Joanne doesn’t like to bring up what happened.’
A perfectly reasonable answer, some might think. And Shaun himself seems satisfied with it.
But as a mother myself, I find it a little odd.
Most women I know, if they lost their husband and the father of their only child, would keep his memory alive for the child’s sake at least. So that they were aware of where they came from.
Unless she had something to hide, that is.
Chapter Fifty-Three
I don’t go back into the office. If Joanne wants to fire me, then let her.
I know that’s an illogical reaction, but I feel I might burst if I set eyes on her again before I’ve had a break.
Later, I can see there’s something wrong – more so than usual – as soon as Maisie emerges from the dance studio and looks for my car from the top of the steps.
