by Sue Fortin
I hesitate, but decide to be honest with my friend. ‘It’s hard work. It’s awkward. It’s like you have this total stranger in the house and, yet, you have to behave as if you’ve known each other all your life.’ I look over and notice Michael, one of the other governors, approaching.
Pippa follows my gaze. ‘Look, come round for a coffee when you get a moment. We’ll chat then.’ She gives my arm a reassuring pat and then turns to Michael. ‘Hi, Michael, how are you?’ The three of us make our way into the school.
The meeting drags on even longer than I thought it would and if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m on the parking and speed sub-committee, I would have floored it out of that car park like a F1 driver. Instead, I force myself to make a sedate exit, but once I’m round the corner and out of sight, I drive as fast as I dare from one village to the next. The small stretch of road, which divides Budlington and Little Dray, is narrow and twisty. With no footpath, it’s a devil to negotiate as either a driver or a pedestrian. In the dark it’s even worse and am relieved as I round the last bend and the streetlights of Little Dray appear. The radar-activated speed sign flashes as I near the village. The digits 30 and the words slow down flash alternately. I take heed; it wouldn’t do to get a speeding ticket. That would be rather ironic.
I eventually get home and haul myself and my briefcase through the front door. I can hear laughter coming from the kitchen. It sounds like Hannah and I smile, grateful that Luke has let her stay up to see me.
He greets me at the door. ‘Hey, there,’ he says, coming down the stairs and giving me a kiss. ‘Sorry, you’ve just missed Chloe. She was shattered, so I had to put her to bed.’
The guilt hugs me tighter than Luke. ‘It’s okay. The meeting went on far longer than usual. I had totally forgotten about it. I’ll be glad when I don’t have to go any more.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up, Babe. As long as there’s one of us to put her to bed, she doesn’t mind.’ I put my case down under the coat rack and slip off my jacket. Luke takes it from me and hangs it on the hook. ‘I seriously don’t think she’s going to need counselling as a result of it.’
I smile at his attempt to relieve my guilt. ‘Hannah okay?’
‘Yeah, she’s in the kitchen with your mum and Alice. Look, I was going to get on with some work. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘No. Fill your boots, but do try to come to bed at some point tonight. It’s an awful big bed for one.’
Luke cups my face in his hands. ‘Try stopping me.’ He kisses me and then, leaving me with a smile, wanders off down the hallway. I hear him stop by the kitchen and say goodnight to Hannah before heading off to his studio. I kick off my shoes and, after giving my mobile one final check for any messages or emails, I switch it off, leaving work firmly behind me. I hear more laughter from Hannah in the kitchen. She has such an infectious laugh. I smile to myself and go down to join the fun.
As I enter the kitchen, I can feel the corners of my mouth sag slightly as the smile I had reserved for Hannah disappears. Hannah is sitting at the breakfast bar, her back to me, with Alice sitting next to her, their heads dipped towards each. They giggle at something I haven’t heard.
‘Hiya,’ I say brightly from the doorway. Neither appear to hear me, their heads remaining bowed, looking at something in Hannah’s lap. I spy an array of nail varnishes on the worktop and the smell of acetone hits the back of my throat. Alice looks up as I walk further into the kitchen.
‘Hi, Clare. How are you? Good day?’
Hannah turns to look over her shoulder. ‘Alice is doing my nails,’ she says; her face lights up with excitement for a brief moment and then disappears, to be replaced by one of apprehension. ‘I wanted my nails to look pretty, like Alice’s.’
‘You know how I feel about make-up and nail varnish,’ I say, not being able to stop the words from coming out, yet at the same time wanting to kick myself for being such a spoil sport. ‘You have school tomorrow. You won’t be able to keep it on.’
‘Oh, Clare, it’s just a bit of nail polish,’ says Alice, with a touch of amusement to her voice, in the way you’d tell a child that there were no monsters under the bed.
‘It’s the school policy,’ I say. God, when did I turn into the fucking head teacher? ‘Hannah, you know that.’ I’m aware that I am taking out my annoyance on Hannah, when really I’m angry at Alice. And I know the anger is unjustified. How would Alice know what the school policy was?
Hannah slips her hand away from Alice dejectedly. I look at Alice. ‘Have you got some nail-varnish remover? Only, I don’t have any – I don’t wear the stuff.’
‘Yeah, sure. It’s right here.’ Alice picks up a plastic bottle I hadn’t noticed. ‘What about if I get up early and take it off for Hannah in the morning? It’s such a shame and it’s totally my fault. One hundred per cent my fault. I honestly did not realise. Sorry, Clare.’ She bites the side of her lip. Hannah looks up from under her lashes, not quite able to meet my gaze head on. I feel a sudden pang of guilt and shame. What harm is it for one night? Hannah should have known better, but the excitement of getting her nails done obviously won out. Christ, she’s only seven. I’m the one who should know better.
I smile and go over to Hannah and give her a hug. ‘I’m sorry for getting cross,’ I say. ‘You can keep it on for the night. Either Alice or I will take it off in the morning before you go to school.’ I kiss her and instantly am rewarded with a huge smile.
‘Sorry, again,’ says Alice.
It’s at this point I notice what Alice is wearing. It’s a pink T-shirt with the words New York in white letters across the chest. I do a double-take. ‘I have a T-shirt just like that,’ I say. ‘That is such a coincidence.’
I hear a laugh behind me and it’s Mum, who must have just come into the kitchen and caught the end of our conversation. Alice laughs and exchanges a knowing smile with Mum, ‘Shall I tell her or do you want to?’
‘Tell me what?’ I look at Mum.
‘Oh, Clare, you are funny,’ says Mum. ‘That T-shirt looks like yours because it is yours.’ Mum, Alice and Hannah all laugh together.
‘Oh,’ is all I can manage to say, finding it hard to join in with the joke. Alice probably thinks I’m a proper misery. First I get all uptight over nail varnish and now I’m failing the see the funny side of T-shirt-gate.
‘I spilt something down my top earlier,’ explains Alice. ‘It was the only pink one I had and we were just about to go out. I didn’t want to change my whole outfit. I needed something to go with my white jeans, so Mum said I could borrow yours.’ The way she slips the word Mum in, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to say, as if she’s been saying it all her life, doesn’t escape me. ‘Look, I’ll go change. I shouldn’t have borrowed it. Sorry.’
She gets up to leave but Mum steps forward. ‘Don’t be daft, Alice. There’s no need for that. Clare doesn’t mind, do you, darling?’
‘No, of course, I don’t.’ I force the words out and attach a fake smile at the end, while acknowledging to myself that Mum and Alice are becoming closer by the day, whereas I’m getting left behind. I feel I’m on the outside of what is fast becoming their little club. ‘Hey, isn’t that what sisters are supposed to do anyway. You know, share clothes?’
‘Sure thing,’ says Alice, quickly brightening up and sitting back down. ‘Sisters share everything.’ I watch as she takes Hannah’s hand and sets about finishing the beauty task.
Chapter 10
With the girls tucked up in bed, fast asleep, and Luke working in his studio, Mum, Alice and I settle ourselves in the living room. I bring in a bottle of wine and pour us each of us a glass. I’ve changed into my slouchy trousers and T-shirt already.
‘You look tired,’ says Mum. ‘Such a shame you couldn’t take any time off.’
‘Mmm.’ There’s no point going over old ground, so I opt for a quick acknowledgement and divert the attention onto Alice. ‘How are you managing the jet lag?’
&
nbsp; ‘Not too bad. I slept a bit better last night, although I was awake at five a.m. I came down to get a glass of water. I hope I didn’t disturb y’all.’
‘Not me,’ says Mum. ‘I don’t hear anything in my part of the house. Occasionally, I might hear Luke’s studio door open or close when he’s working during the night, but other than that, I’m dead to the world.’
‘Luke works at night?’ Alice looks over at me.
‘Sometimes – when the mood takes him. He goes through phases; depends how engrossed in his work he is.’
‘Like now,’ says Mum. ‘I thought I heard him in there the other night.’
‘You probably did.’ I take a sip of wine. ‘It’s one of those phases.’
‘It doesn’t bother you, that’s he’s in there all night?’ asks Alice.
‘Not really. He’s working,’ I reply.
‘I wouldn’t like it,’ says Alice. ‘I’d want him right next to me, so I knew exactly where he was.’
We laugh, despite the lack of humour I find in the statement. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’ I ask.
Alice shakes her head. ‘No. I’ve had one or two, but nothing serious.’ She blinks hard and looks away for a moment.
‘You okay, Alice?’ asks Mum.
‘Yeah, sure. Sorry.’ Alice wipes under her eyes with the tip of her finger.
‘What is it, darling?’ Mum puts her glass of wine down and goes to sit beside Alice on the sofa. I straighten up in my chair, not sure what is about to unfold.
‘I never had a proper boyfriend, not one I really loved.’ She looks up at me and then Mum. ‘Daddy wouldn’t let me.’
I can see Mum physically jerk at the mention of Dad. I always knew it would be a tricky topic of conversation and I had hoped we could broach it tonight. Both Mum and I want to know about Alice’s childhood, but we had agreed not to rush her on her first couple of nights. Now, it seems Alice herself is willing to talk before we need to ask.
Mum puts a comforting arm around Alice. She glances over at me for what I assume is encouragement. I give a small nod. ‘Alice, darling, I didn’t want to rush you into talking about your father, but seeing as you’ve mentioned him, do you want to talk about it? I’ve always hoped that you were having a happy life and that your father was being good to you. I’m so sorry if that’s not the case.’
‘No, my Daddy was good to me,’ says Alice. ‘He loved me; he just wasn’t so keen on letting his little girl grow up, I guess. I just assumed all fathers were like that. I expect Luke will be the same with Hannah and Chloe.’
‘I think he’s already like that,’ I say. ‘He’s always joking with Hannah about no boyfriends until she’s thirty.’ I smile as I recall Hannah rolling her eyes at the suggestion, but then adding that boys were smelly anyway.
‘You know, I wrote to you so many times,’ says Mum. ‘But I had no address to send them to. I’ve kept them all in a box upstairs for you with gifts I’ve bought for you over the years. When your father took you to America, he promised me it was only for a holiday and that he would be back after a couple of weeks.’ I can see the pain in Mum’s eyes as she speaks; pain heavily coated with guilt. ‘I should never have agreed to him taking you. I should have known he wasn’t planning on coming back, despite what he said.’ Mum dabs at the tears that trickle from her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, Alice.’
‘It’s okay. Please don’t cry. I know it wasn’t your fault,’ says Alice, softly.
‘I love you,’ says Mum. ‘I always have and never once have I stopped. Your father was a very persuasive man. I was a weak woman.’ She holds her hand to Alice’s face. ‘Please forgive me, my darling.’
Alice rests her hand on top of Mum’s. ‘There’s nothing to forgive. You’re my mother.’
I watch as Mum holds Alice tightly and I’m relieved Alice has been so compassionate. The burden of guilt may never lift from Mum, but at least now she has Alice’s forgiveness, the load will be lighter.
I top up our glasses with more wine. I think we all need it, Mum especially. She’s more composed now and while she remains on the sofa with Alice, I sit back in the chair.
‘You’re very understanding. Thank you, my darling,’ says Mum.
‘I’ve been waiting for this my whole life,’ says Alice. ‘I don’t know what really happened, Daddy never said. He didn’t want to talk about it.’
‘That first letter you wrote, when you told me the things you remembered, meant so much to me,’ says Mum. ‘Knowing you had still retained little snippets of your time here was like music to my ears. You hadn’t totally forgotten us. It gave me such comfort.’
Alice glances over at me and I detect a fleeting sense of unease. Perhaps it’s getting a bit too much for her, but she turns to Mum and smiles warmly. ‘And they meant so much to me too.’
Whether Alice is telling her the truth or not, I don’t know and, to be honest, I don’t really care. All I care about is the sense of relief it is bringing Mum. I know how she has tortured herself over the years about Alice.
‘Your stepmother, what was she like?’ asks Mum, her voice gentle.
Alice gives a shrug. ‘Roma? She was okay, I guess.’ Alice looks down at her hands and I sense another shift in her body language.
‘Only okay?’ asks Mum. Alice shrugs again. ‘You can tell us, Alice. Please don’t feel you can’t. We want to know, don’t we, Clare?’
‘Well, yeah. If Alice feels she can.’ I throw Mum a do you think this is a good idea? look. One that Mum either fails to interpret or ignores.
‘Tell us, Alice. Please.’
‘Okay … Roma was with my father just for the money. I knew that from a very young age. She would be all nice to me in front of him, but when we were alone, she was horrid. We had our meals before Daddy got home from work. She would serve her son, Nathaniel, a huge, massive portion and, yet, me, I’d get a tiny amount, just enough to feed a sparrow. I didn’t get dessert either. Nathaniel did.’
Mum’s hand flies to her mouth, a look of horror on her face. ‘Oh, Alice, I had no idea.’
‘When Daddy wasn’t around, she used to beat me with the sole of her sneaker and lock me in my room for hours on end.’
‘Didn’t you tell your dad?’ I ask, aware that I don’t acknowledge his paternal relationship to me.
‘I did once, but never again,’ says Alice. ‘He asked Roma and, of course, she denied it. Then the next day, when he went to work, I got the biggest beating I’d ever received.’
‘Oh, my God,’ cries Mum. ‘Oh, Alice.’
‘Didn’t your dad see the bruises?’ I ask, shocked at this awful revelation.
‘She was clever,’ says Alice, her face contorts into a sneer. ‘She never beat me so bad that I had big bruises or anywhere that couldn’t be hidden by clothing.’
‘Jesus,’ is all I manage to say. We all take a simultaneous moment to let this disclosure sink in. I take a gulp of wine and replace my glass on the table. ‘How long did all this go on for?’
‘Right up until I was sixteen.’ Alice once again hangs her head, her hands are clasped together in her lap and she nervously twiddles her fingers.
Maybe it’s the solicitor in me, but I have to ask. ‘What happened at sixteen to make it stop?’
Alice doesn’t answer straight away. ‘I … sorry, I don’t know if I can say.’
‘It’s okay, Alice, you can tell us. We’re family,’ says Mum. ‘I’m your mother, you can tell me anything.’
Alice takes a deep breath and raises her head. Her eyes look over at the sideboard and graze the photographs. She nods to herself and then seems to summon up some inner strength as she takes another breath and sits upright.
I can’t help thinking her actions are rather staged and have an air of Hollywood about them.
‘Nathaniel was two years older than me. One night he had been to a party and came home drunk. Daddy and Roma were out having dinner, so it was just me alone at home.’ She looks from Mum to me. I already know I’m not going t
o like where I think this story is heading, but I brace myself in the way I do with clients, when they tell me about truly terrible events that have happened to them. ‘Without going into detail, he basically … well, you know … took advantage of me. He was bigger and stronger. I couldn’t fight him off. He was so drunk, I didn’t stand a chance.’
I move to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of Alice. I take her hands in mine. ‘He raped you?’ I ask softly. ‘Your stepbrother raped you?’ I hear a sharp intake of air from Mum, but I keep my eyes locked on Alice. I want her to know that it’s okay, that she can tell us the truth. That we won’t judge her. She doesn’t break eye contact, but nods.
‘A bit. He was too drunk.’
‘A bit. Whether it’s a bit or a lot, it’s still rape,’ I say, keeping my voice low. ‘Did you tell anyone?’
‘Roma and Daddy came home. Daddy was putting the car away and Roma came into the house first. She must have heard me crying. I had given up struggling at this point. Anyway, the next thing I knew, she was pulling Nathaniel off me and bundling him into his room. She came back and told me that I was never to speak a word about it. That if I did, I would get more than just a beating.’
‘Oh my darling. Oh, that is awful.’ Mum’s tears begin again. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘The next day I told Roma that if she or her son ever laid another finger on me, then I would file a police report.’
‘Did you go to the doctor? Did you have evidence?’ I don’t want to ask Alice in front of Mum if she kept her underwear or bed sheet for DNA from Nathaniel. Alice, however, seems to have no qualms.
‘I figured if Monica Lewinsky could keep Bill Clinton’s sp …, well, you know …’ She screws up her nose and scrunches her shoulders, not needing to elaborate further. ‘Anyway, if she can keep Clinton’s stuff all those years, then I sure as hell could keep Nathaniel’s. In theory, anyway. You should have seen the look on Roma’s face when I told her that.’
