by Karen Clarke
When she nodded solemnly, my heart swelled further at the obvious effort she was making not to give away the surprise. ‘It’s because of your birthday, Mummy.’ She tilted her head. ‘I’ve been helping.’
‘She certainly has.’ Vic’s voice was gentle as he briefly rested his palm on the top of her head. ‘She’s been such a good girl.’
He was so natural with Hayley – despite the fact that he didn’t want children of his own – but sometimes, when he spoke like that, I felt a pang that it wasn’t Matt, which added another layer of guilt to my already towering pile. While Hayley didn’t love Vic in the same, heartfelt way she did her father, she liked him a lot, and we were hoping to broach the subject of us all living together soon.
‘Come on!’ Growing impatient, she tugged my hand and I rose, throwing Vic an apologetic smile.
His shrug conveyed all the things he couldn’t say in front of her – that we’d talk about the texts later, that he had my back … that he loved me.
Why couldn’t Matt have been like that?
Banishing the thought, I let Hayley pull me towards the living room as Vic spoke in a stagey voice intended for our guests.
‘I was telling Mummy she doesn’t have time for a shower after her shopping trip.’
‘No, you don’t, Mummy, that’s silly.’
‘Well, I hope I don’t smell bad.’
I also hoped no one would think to ask what I’d bought. Instead of shopping – not my favourite pursuit – I’d spent most of my day wandering around the Tate, and taking photos of buildings for an art-therapy project.
Vic thrust open the door with a theatrical ‘Ta-da!’ and the tension in the room gave way to a chorus of ‘Surprise!’ and ‘Happy birthday!’ and a shout of ‘About time!’ from my brother. In the end, it wasn’t too hard to look surprised, though I exaggerated for Hayley’s sake, scooping her up and swinging her round as everyone laughed and applauded.
‘I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!’
‘It was a secret,’ she said, flushed with pleasure, before breaking away and darting across to a small heap of presents on a side table as people gathered round me, laughing and wishing me well. For the next few minutes, I let myself be swept along on a tide of goodwill, happy that Vic had managed to pull this off – with my help.
‘None of my clients,’ I’d said, when he asked who I’d want to be there. ‘No extended family either.’ Mum and Dad had big families scattered around the country. ‘And definitely not Grandpa Buckley. He’s stopped wearing his false teeth and Mum says he’s started telling racist jokes.’
In the end, we’d settled on my immediate family – Vic only had one older sister, who lived in Canada – a couple of friends and colleagues, Lewis and Jude from across the road with their son Rory, who was Hayley’s age, and Pam from next door. She’d been a big support after Matt left and sometimes looked after Hayley, who adored her, partly because she had a chocolate-brown Labradoodle called Baxter. My daughter craved a puppy more than anything else.
Pam was there in a flower-print dress, her short white hair neatly brushed, smiling a little self-consciously. I managed a wave before Mum grabbed me in a crushing embrace.
‘I thought you’d got lost,’ she said, as I breathed in a waft of the Gucci perfume Dad bought her every Christmas. ‘Happy birthday, sweetheart. I bought you that jacket you said you liked, but if it doesn’t fit, I’ve got the receipt.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘Everything OK?’ Her voice dipped into anxiety, always attuned to my mood.
‘Fine,’ I said automatically, stretching my smile as she scoured my face with her pale blue, searchlight eyes. ‘Just hot, that’s all.’ I wondered whether she’d still be this overprotective when I was forty, fifty – if I lived that long. The thought made my heart trip.
‘You do look a bit feverish.’ Mum was gripping my upper arms. ‘Maybe you’re coming down with something.’
‘I don’t think so.’ I subtly moved out of her grasp. ‘This is such a lovely surprise,’ I said, gesturing at the room, which seemed much smaller now it was filled with people. The dove-grey walls – which I’d repainted after Matt moved out – felt as if they were closing in and panic briefly stirred. ‘I can’t believe Vic has gone to all this trouble.’ I looked around for him but he’d vanished, no doubt to check on the food or to fetch more drinks.
‘He’s a good man; he’s thought of everything.’ Mum’s face relaxed into a smile. ‘Make sure you hang on to him,’ she said, playfully. She’d been distraught when Matt left, but, once she’d accepted I wasn’t heading back into therapy, had cautiously retreated and welcomed Vic into the family with open arms.
‘Happy Birthday, Lizbet.’ Dad materialised, holding a mug of coffee. He rarely touched alcohol, preferring to keep a clear head. ‘If you’re thirty-three now, that means I must be …’ He slung his free arm around my shoulder and pretended to do a sum in his head. ‘Getting old.’
‘Sixty-four’s not old.’ I forced a grin, used to him treating me like a child, calling me by his own diminutive of Elizabeth. He’d never forgiven himself for his part in what had happened; it sometimes seemed he’d been stuck in the past ever since, trying to make up for it. ‘Thanks for coming,’ I said, knowing nothing would have kept him away, even if it meant leaving his beloved furniture repair shop earlier than usual.
‘You don’t have to thank us for wanting to spend time with you.’ Mum slid her arm around Dad’s waist and smiled up at me. I looked at them, seeing myself in Dad’s hazel eyes, straight nose and the arch of his brows, and in Mum’s curves and the way she held herself tall, despite being a petite five foot two. I was a few inches taller, my hair a more reddish-brown, but there was no doubting we were mother and daughter.
As usual, feeling the weight of their gaze, of their hopes and expectations, I was compelled to brighten my smile, to dance my shoulders to the music springing from a speaker on the dresser – Pharrell Williams’s ‘Happy’ – and accept the badly wrapped present Hayley was holding out. She danced from foot to foot, hands clasped as I unwrapped the shiny pink paper to reveal a box containing a charm bracelet hung with a silver heart. The heart was inscribed with the words Love you forever, Mummy, eliciting fond murmurs when I read them out.
‘It’s from me!’ Hayley could barely contain herself, straining to see the words that had hazed in a blur of tears. ‘Daddy helped me when we went shopping on Saturday.’
Matt? I tried not to react. ‘Thank you, darling, I love it so much.’ I bent to hug her but she’d already raced away, so I slipped it on and held it out for Mum and Dad to admire.
‘Where’s that brother of yours?’ Mum said, letting go of my wrist to glance around. ‘I told him to get you something nice. I hope he listened to me.’
I caught Dad’s eye and he looked away, smile fading. It pained them both that my once close relationship with my brother had eroded to the point where he had to be ‘reminded’ about my birthday. He’d softened since meeting Rosa – she’d been good for him – but I doubted it was to the point where he’d go gift-shopping.
‘He’s around somewhere. I saw him earlier,’ Dad said. ‘Probably gone to the loo.’
‘Graham,’ Mum said, as though he’d said a swear word, lightly tapping his arm.
‘Linda,’ he replied in a similar tone, and they exchanged affectionate smiles.
Bye, bye, Beth.
As the words floated into my mind, my own smile faded.
I had to talk to Rosa.
Chapter 3
I looked around. I hadn’t seen Rosa since the initial hubbub, but spotted her by the food-laden dining table, talking to Pam, who was gesticulating wildly as she spoke. Probably describing something in her garden, which was her passion.
‘I’m going to mingle,’ I said, perspiration breaking out on my forehead. The windows were open, and so were the French doors that led to the garden, but the air in the room felt solid.
‘Don’t f
orget to have a chat with your brother,’ Mum called after me.
I was waylaid on the way, first by Marianne, the head of Fernley House where I worked, who also ran creative writing classes there, then my oldest friend Emma, who I’d met at art college. After a recent trip to Cambodia, she was settling into a new job with a charitable organisation in London and wanted to catch up.
‘I still can’t get over you and Matt breaking up.’ Her smoky grey eyes were alive with curiosity as she thrust a glass of wine into my hand. ‘What actually happened, Beth? You two were made for each other.’
Emma had introduced me to Matt. It was natural she’d wish we were still together. On her last visit to Oxford before her trip, I told her I’d met someone new, but she’d just broken up with her boyfriend and hadn’t been very receptive. ‘You should get to know Vic.’ I put my glass down, too on edge to drink. ‘He’s lovely.’
‘Let’s have a night out.’ She cuffed my wrist with her fingers as I made to move away, her gaze probing. ‘It’s been ages since we’ve had a proper chat.’
‘Too long,’ I said lightly, easing out of her grasp.
Her angular face softened. ‘I brought you a gift.’ She swept her long, dark fringe aside with ring-cluttered fingers. ‘Your adorable daughter added it to the pile.’
‘Thanks, Em, that’s really kind of you. I’ll look for it in a bit.’ Smiling, I backed away, almost into Rosa, who sounded keen to escape Pam’s lively chatter.
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ she was saying, a faint estuary twang betraying her Essex roots. ‘Start with great soil and follow the sun.’ She started when she spotted me right behind her. ‘Hi, Beth.’ A grin broke over her face, crinkling her big, brown eyes.
‘Hey,’ I said, heart banging. I’d rarely spoken to Rosa alone and was surprised that Jamie wasn’t glued to her side, as usual. ‘Could I have a quick word?’
‘Sure.’ I sensed her switch into work mode, tensing slightly beneath her thin white top, which she’d paired with cropped black trousers and flat black shoes, her mouse-brown hair scraped back in its usual ponytail. She could have been in uniform. I remembered Jamie saying she took her job seriously, was keen to become a detective – or maybe it was a sergeant, I couldn’t quite remember. ‘What is it?’
Just then, Jamie came in from the garden. Catching his glance across the room, my nerves twanged a warning. The last thing my brother needed was a reminder of the past. ‘I just wanted to say thank you for—’
‘Beth?’ Vic was in the doorway. ‘Maybe not in front of everyone.’
My smile froze. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything.’
Rosa’s gaze flicked between us. ‘What’s going on?’
My mouth felt dry. ‘Oh, it’s nothing really.’ I looked over at Jamie. He’d perched on the arm of the sofa, a glass of something amber in one hand, and was grinning at Hayley asking loudly if he could please fetch her some cake because she was so hungry. ‘I had a couple of anonymous text messages earlier.’
‘Oh?’ An interested gleam brightened Rosa’s eyes. She tended to blend into the background normally – a useful trait for a police officer – but I suddenly saw how pretty she was with her thick dark lashes, smooth skin and neat features. She had an air of quiet intelligence that would have appealed to Jamie. He liked quiet, clever women who got on with things without making a fuss. ‘What sort of messages?’
I quickly looked for Mum and Dad. They were loading paper plates with a selection of food at the table, their backs to me. ‘Not in here, if you don’t mind.’
‘Of course.’
She followed me out of the room, to where Vic was waiting at the foot of the stairs with an air of suppressed tension. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I thought—’
‘It’s fine,’ I cut in, wanting to get it over with. ‘It’s probably a bad joke and I’m reading too much into it,’ I said to Rosa. ‘But the message told me to enjoy my birthday because it would be my last.’
‘OK,’ she said calmly. ‘That’s not funny.’
‘No.’ If I’d hoped by telling her, the words would lose some of their power, I was wrong. My hand felt clumsy as I fished my phone from my bag. ‘It feels like it might be linked to what happened when I was a child …’ I stopped, checking her face for a reaction. ‘You know about it?’
She nodded, while Vic placed a hand on my shoulder as if to steady me. ‘Jamie mentioned it.’ She spoke in the sort of neutral voice I imagined must be necessary in her job. ‘You nearly drowned on holiday when you were seven.’
Nearly drowned.
It sounded like nothing, the way she said it. As if it wasn’t the event that had blighted my life ever since. ‘Twice,’ I said, my voice as choked as if it was happening again. ‘I nearly died twice. Secondary drowning it’s called, when a small amount of water enters the lungs.’ Vic’s hand tightened on my shoulder. ‘If Mum hadn’t insisted on them keeping me in hospital for observation that night, I would have died.’
‘Jamie told me.’ Rosa’s tone was one of respectful compassion. ‘I’m sorry.’
She seemed to be waiting for more and, as if from a distance, I heard myself tell her the worst part, even though she must already know. ‘A stranger saved my life,’ I said. ‘He saved me, but he died. He drowned, saving my life.’
‘Beth.’ Vic’s voice barely penetrated the sound of blood roaring in my ears.
‘I lived because of him, but he died and I have to live with that and it’s been hard, you know?’
‘Beth, it’s OK.’
‘I don’t even know who he was, or if he had a family. He must have had a family, I mean—’
‘Beth!’ Vic’s fingers tightened on my shoulder.
I blinked as though waking from a nightmare. ‘Sorry.’ I exhaled. ‘It’s … it’s got easier, but it never really goes away,’ I said. ‘The guilt, I mean.’
Rosa’s gaze connected with mine. ‘And you think … what? That this message is connected somehow?’
‘Maybe someone who knew what happened back then is trying to scare me.’
‘Someone connected to the man who drowned?’
I felt a dropping sensation, hearing it said so simply. ‘Yes.’
‘OK.’ A frown wrinkled her forehead. It sounded far-fetched, but with a jarring sense of clarity, I realised I’d been expecting something like this to happen for a long time. For ages, I’d told myself that if I worked hard enough, kept my daughter safe, improved the lives of my therapy clients, everything would be OK. Even on Hayley’s first birthday, the house crammed with mine and Matt’s families, I’d thought about the man who saved my life, how he’d never celebrate a grandchild’s birthday, guilt creeping out like a shadow to spoil the moment.
Maybe none of it had been enough.
‘There was a note, earlier in the year,’ Vic said. ‘On Beth’s car. It said A LIFE FOR A LIFE. It’s like someone’s out for revenge.’
‘That’s a bit strong.’ I tried out a laugh, but the word hit home. Revenge.
Rosa’s frown deepened. I thought she was going to tell me I’d been watching too many crime dramas – which I’d have to admit was true – but instead, she said, ‘If the message came from a burner phone it’ll be hard to trace, but I could take a look.’
I hesitated. ‘I—’
‘Mummeee!’ It was Hayley, sounding fractious.
Dad poked his head round the living room door. ‘What are you lot plotting?’
The sight of his wild salt-and-pepper hair, which Mum had long ago given up trying to tame, tightened the knot in my chest. We must look an odd trio, huddled by the front door. ‘We’re going to get the cake,’ I said, knowing he wouldn’t question it. ‘I got side-tracked.’
‘Madam won’t wait much longer.’
‘I’m coming.’ I flashed Rosa a smile as Dad disappeared. ‘Look, thanks for hearing me out, but it’s probably nothing … I mean, nothing serious.’
‘You don’t believe that.’ Her expression was worryingly sombre. ‘I’d
like to take a quick look if you don’t mind.’
‘Fine.’ I switched my phone on and went straight to my texts. Odd.
‘What is it?’ Vic said as I scrolled up and down.
‘Hang on a second, I can’t …’ I looked again, but the last message I’d had was from Vic’s phone. ‘I can’t find them.’
‘What?’
I looked again, my senses prickling. ‘They’re not there.’ I lifted my gaze to Rosa’s. ‘The messages have gone.’
Chapter 4
After taking a look herself, Rosa handed my phone back. ‘Let me know if you get any more,’ she said with a trace of regret. ‘Take a screenshot if you can, so at least you have some proof.’ I wished I’d thought of it, though I couldn’t see how it would help if the sender was using a disposable phone. I’d seen enough thrillers to imagine broad fingers removing the battery before smashing the screen to smithereens underfoot. ‘What about the note you mentioned, on your car?’
‘I threw it away,’ I admitted. ‘It was creepy, but didn’t mean much at the time.’
‘That was my fault,’ Vic said grimly. ‘I suggested she get rid of it.’
‘Someone could have hacked into your phone,’ Rosa said. ‘Maybe change your passwords.’
Before I could respond, Mum burst into the hallway and we scattered like cats; Vic and I to the kitchen and Rosa into the downstairs toilet with a murmured, ‘Let me know if anything else happens.’
‘Beth,’ Vic said, reaching for me as I stared unseeingly through the window into the back garden. He’d wound fairy lights around the trunk and branches of the magnolia tree, and along the hedge dividing us from Pam’s, but all I could see in my mind’s eye was someone hunched over a phone, intent on frightening me.
‘We can’t talk now,’ I said. ‘Everyone’s wondering what we’re doing.’ I spun round, plastering on a smile. ‘Let’s go.’
I wasn’t sure how I kept it together after that, but I managed to reassure Hayley that I wasn’t being a ‘party-popper’ by letting her blow out the candles on my lavishly frosted cake, aware of Vic watching me closely.
