‘Receiving death threats,’ I finished for him. Idris frowned but I ploughed on. ‘Not just aimed at us, but all of us.’ Maggie’s eyes widened. ‘It’ll probably just be kids,’ I quickly added. I didn’t want them leaving out of fear. ‘But we can’t risk it any more.’
‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ Julien asked.
‘We didn’t want to scare you,’ I said softly.
‘So letters have been delivered here, to the cave?’ Caden asked.
‘Outside the cave,’ I said. ‘Just a couple.’
‘What do they say?’ Maggie asked.
‘That we’re not welcome around here, the usual stuff,’ I said dismissively.
‘Can we see them?’ Julien asked, looking cynical.
‘I burnt them,’ Idris said, snapping out of his surprise. I nodded at him. He understood why we needed to do this.
‘Who do you think sent them?’ Maggie asked in a small voice as Julien pulled her close.
‘Any number of people,’ I replied. ‘You’ve seen the looks we get in town!’
‘But most of the people I speak to seem so nice, so fascinated with this place,’ Maggie said as Julien and Caden nodded.
‘To your face they might be,’ I said. I noticed Maggie peer outside, brow puckered. Was I laying it on too thick? ‘But you’re right – many people are fascinated by us and want to join us. In fact, maybe having this gate here will allay people’s fears about security, meaning more followers will join us?’
Maggie, Caden and Julien exchanged looks.
‘Maybe Selma’s right?’ Maggie said hesitantly.
‘Of course she’s right,’ Idris said. ‘Shall we help the men with the gate, Julien and Caden?’
Caden nodded but Julien hesitated. Then he sighed and followed them to the front of the cave, looking over his shoulder at me and frowning.
A couple of weeks later, I walked into the court, pulling my suit jacket down to hide my bump. If it weren’t for the fact my time in the cave meant I’d lost weight, I could put it down to eating too much, but now my slim arms and legs stood out against the growing curve of my stomach. How could I be sure Mike wouldn’t notice? Everyone else too? I didn’t want the authorities to know – not yet anyway.
I glanced over at Mike, who was looking straight ahead. He’d lost even more weight too, was wearing a smart suit, filling it out in all the right ways. He actually looked better, healthier. Behind me, I felt Idris and Maggie’s reassuring presences. Caden had stayed back at the cave, trying to practise on his guitar with the arm he wasn’t used to. I’d asked Julien to come. He used to be a solicitor after all, but he’d said he’d rather not. He’d been acting off with me ever since I had the gate put in.
Idris gave me a smile. I smiled back. As I turned around, I noticed Mike was watching us both, face stiff with anger.
Then his gaze dropped to my stomach.
I quickly covered it with my bag and took my seat next to my solicitor, shooting her a reassuring smile. I’d talked to her on the phone about the gate a few days ago and she’d agreed it would go down well. She’d seemed optimistic about it all and, in return, made me feel positive too. Once I got this court date out of the way, I could really start planning my life with Becky, and with my new child.
But instead of smiling back at me, my solicitor frowned. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you,’ she whispered. ‘I even came to the cave yesterday but you weren’t there.’
‘I was with Becky all day. What’s wrong?’
‘Did you have a chance to read the report?’
‘What report?’
‘The one from social services.’
‘You sent it to me?’
‘To your PO Box, I told you we’d get the chance to read it before the hearing, remember?’ I thought back to our conversations. Maybe she had mentioned it but, with everything that had been going on, I’d clearly not taken it in.
‘I haven’t checked my PO Box for days,’ I whispered back.
She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.
‘What did it say?’ I asked, panic fluttering inside.
The judge walked in and everyone went quiet.
‘What did it say?’ I hissed again.
The judge looked at me sharply.
‘You’ll find out in a minute,’ my solicitor said, looking ahead.
I took in a deep breath. This wasn’t looking good. I peered behind me at Idris again and he gave me a reassuring smile. Then worry flickered across his face as he noticed my expression. I turned back, trying to calm myself. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?
The judge said a few introductory words then the female social worker who’d visited the cave took to the stand. I tried to search her face for an indication of what she might say but I couldn’t tell.
‘We visited the home of Mike Rhys on the seventh of September and spent some time with Becky,’ she said, looking down at her notes. ‘Mr Rhys clearly provides a secure and loving environment for his daughter, and it was equally clear to me and my colleague that the two share an excellent father and daughter relationship. Mr Rhys has taken steps to change his hours, meaning he is able to pick his daughter up from school on the days she is with him. Becky herself seemed very well and is well cared for under her father’s care.’
She took a sip of water and I did the same, trying to control my breathing. I pulled at my suit jacket, blowing my fringe out of my eyes. I always felt so hot now I was pregnant, despite it nearly being December. And now it was even worse, nerves swirling inside at what the report might say.
‘Becky misses her mother,’ the social worker continued, ‘and clearly loves her. During our visit, she asked several times if we’d seen her mother.’ I smiled. ‘This feeling is replicated by Mrs Rhys,’ the social worker continued. ‘She clearly has great affection for her child and a desire to see her.’
My smile deepened. Maybe I had nothing to worry about?
‘However, Mrs Rhys’s actions – leaving the family home to live in a cave – suggest a lack of regard on Mrs Rhys’s part when it comes to providing a secure environment for her child.’ I put my hand to my stomach. The social worker’s eyes flickered to me then down to her notes again. ‘We also noted Mrs Rhys talked more about her writing than she did about her daughter, so we have to question her priorities.’
I leaned forward, clutching the railing in front. ‘How can you—’ My solicitor put her hand gently on my arm, shaking her head. I slumped back and took a deep breath. No wonder she’d looked so worried about the report.
The social worker looked straight ahead, avoiding my gaze. ‘We visited Mrs Rhys’s residence on the eighth of September. She was living in a large cave dwelling with seven other people at the time including a child. The cave itself is well equipped with a basic but working kitchen and adequate bathroom facilities. It was clean on our visit, and tidy. There was even a dedicated area for children at the back of the cave with books and toys. However, there were clear hazards.’
I tensed.
‘While there, we noticed fallen rock and uneven flooring. There were several areas where a child could climb rocks and hurt themselves and, of course, the sea is just a few metres away. Not to mention the damp and lack of security at the front of the cave, allowing anyone to enter whenever the tide is low and the bay isn’t cut off.’
‘We have a gate now!’ I shouted out. ‘You told them that, right?’ I asked my solicitor. She nodded.
‘Regardless,’ the social worker continued, ‘combined with the recent cave collapse nearby, the security and safety of the dwelling is a real concern for us, especially as there are six other adults living in close proximity to her, some of who have backgrounds which would cause us concern when living in close proximity to a child.’
Mike gripped the bar in front of him, leaning forward and glaring at me. I shook my head, peering behind me at Idris and Maggie. Who could they possibly mean?
‘One of these include a woman who spent time in p
rison for ABH against a minor,’ the social worker continued.
I put my hand to my mouth. Did she mean Donna? She said something had happened in her past.
‘If you mean Donna,’ I shouted out, ‘she doesn’t even live in the cave any more.’
The judge gave me a sharp look. ‘I must ask you to refrain from shouting out in court, Mrs Rhys, otherwise I will have no choice but to have you removed.’
I slumped against my seat, tears sliding down my cheeks. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Maggie smiling sadly at me.
‘And then we have the issue with Mrs Rhys’s inability to tell the truth,’ the social worker said with a sigh.
Maggie’s hand slipped from my shoulder.
‘Not only did Mrs Rhys tell us that she was in a secure job when she’d handed her notice in the week before,’ the social worker continued, ‘she also lied about an incident involving Mr Rhys and her daughter when she was a newborn. She told us Mr Rhys threatened violence to Becky when she was crying.’
I felt my face turn white. I looked over at Mike who was staring ahead with a satisfied smirk on his face.
‘However, Mr Rhys was away overnight when the incident she described happened. We believe, combined with other small lies, Mrs Rhys has been fabricating events to win custody of her child. Therefore, in conclusion, our advice would be that Mr Rhys gets full custody and parental responsibility for Becky with regular visits between Mrs Rhys and her daughter in a pre-agreed venue away from the cave.’
‘Oh God,’ I said, putting my head in my hands. Suddenly, the horror of it dawned on me: I was losing my child! And what about the one growing inside me? Would they be taken away too? I didn’t hear the rest of it because I’d sunk into a senseless despair. After a while, my solicitor helped me up and I stumbled over to Idris, falling into his arms as he stroked my hair, Maggie looking on with a frown on her face.
‘I don’t know why you’re crying.’ I looked up to see Mike glowering down at me. ‘You brought this on yourself, Selma. You chose your writing – chose him – over your child,’ he said, gesturing at Idris.
‘It wasn’t about the writing and Idris, for God’s sake,’ I said. ‘I left because I could see no other way of staying sane, of keeping the darkness at bay. I was being stifled. I did it for Becky. You don’t know how hard I’ve worked to build a sanctuary for her in the cave.’
Mike shook his head. ‘You never had a chance getting custody of Becky as long as you stayed in that cave. Anyone with half a brain could see that. Anyone apart from the little cult you’ve got yourself entangled with … and yourself, the person who you lie to the most. It’s amazing what you can convince yourself of, Selma. You’re just like your mother, you know, selfish and deluded. No wonder she lives alone now, rotting away in that little flat in Margate. It’ll be the same for you in years to come.’
Then he stormed off.
‘I thought your mother was dead?’ Idris said.
‘She is to me.’ I took his hand. ‘Can we please just get out of here?’
Chapter Thirty-One
Selma
Kent, UK
25 November 1991
When we got back to the cave after the court hearing, I didn’t want to speak to or see anyone. The others seemed to sense it, leaving me alone as I sat under grey skies, a blanket Idris had given me wrapped around my shoulders. In my lap were my notepads, the pages now stuck back in, all of them adding up to a novel just a chapter away from being finished.
It was over. The dream was really over.
I had nothing to offer Becky, nothing to offer the baby I was due to have in a few months. All I had was this – a few notepads of pointless scribbles, scribbles which had cost me my daughter.
I heard the crunch of wet sand behind me and looked up to see Idris approach with a mug of tea in his hands. ‘I thought you’d need this,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ I replied, grateful.
‘May I join you?’
I nodded, so he sat on a rock beside me and we both looked out to sea.
‘Tell me about your mother,’ he said. ‘Why did you tell me she’d died?’
‘Everything I said about her was true. Apart from the bit about her dying.’
‘I see. So she’s in Margate?’
I shrugged. ‘I presume so. I never see her any more. The last time I saw her, she barely recognised me, she was so drunk.’ Idris frowned. ‘That’s where I really went with Becky all those years ago when I walked out with her. We went to my mother’s flat. I was contending with all these emotions after Becky was born.’
I wiped a tear away, taking a sip of tea and sighing. ‘I was trying to rationalise my irrational feelings. I needed them to be someone else’s fault. So I blamed my mother. By making me feel worthless as a child, she was making me feel worthless as a mother now I was one. Of course, it was down to more than that, I know that now. But still, I wanted to go show Becky to her, show her I was good enough to have a daughter … show myself too, I guess. It was pointless. She was so drunk, she could barely open her eyes to focus on her granddaughter.’
I looked at the ashy logs from the fire the night before. ‘So I stole her watch,’ I said with a bitter laugh. ‘It was lying on the side. Sounds childish, doesn’t it? But I needed something of hers.’ My face clouded over. ‘Mike’s right, I am like my mother. I lie, I manipulate … and now I’ve lost my own daughter because of it.’
I started sobbing and Idris stroked my back, but I shoved him away. ‘Don’t comfort me! I don’t deserve it. I’ve lied to you, so many times! Did you know I’m the one who snapped your paintbrushes in half? And all that other stuff too?’
His eyes widened in surprise. ‘Why would you do that?’
‘It was the only way I could convince you all! You all needed concrete proof of the threat posed by the outside world and I gave it to you. In the long run, it was a good thing.’ I looked towards the iron bars of the new gate, their dark shadows spread across the cave. I placed my mug down, face tense. ‘So there you have it. The truth, for once.’
Idris put his hand over mine again. I didn’t push him away this time. ‘You and I are so alike, Selma,’ he said. ‘Mike was right about one thing: the people we hurt the most with our lies are ourselves. Especially the lies we tell ourselves. Maybe it’s time we stopped doing that. Maybe it’s time we accepted the cave isn’t the right place to bring up a child.’
‘But what else can we do?’
‘Find a flat in town? I have a bit of money, enough for a deposit and a couple of months’ rent.’
I shuddered at the thought. But I knew he was right. I felt tears prick at my eyes. It was over. My dream was officially over.
Over the next few weeks, we discreetly looked around for local flats, but the ones we could afford simply weren’t suitable for a newborn. In fact, the cave felt a safer, more secure option in some cases.
‘There’s no major hurry,’ Idris said after viewing our fifth flat, set above a group of students who were playing music so loud it made the walls throb. ‘We still have a few months. We’ll definitely find one by the time the baby comes.’
‘What about the hotel? Can’t we just live up there?’ I asked, looking towards it as we walked back to the cave.
‘I told you, I have no rights to it, Selma. It’d be classed as squatting and social services really would frown upon us then. All I have is the cave.’
I sunk into a silent darkness over the next few days and weeks. The cave became hollow, nights on the beach in front of the fire drinking gin long gone. When Idris expressed concern I told him I was just ‘in the current’ and needed to focus on finishing my novel. And yes, there was some truth to that. I was writing with a voracity, drawing on my feelings, so very close to the end now. Idris seemed to be in his own world too, painting for many hours of the day. While we still found each other in the darkness at night to gently and quietly make love, there was a new distance between us. Julien, Caden and Maggie seemed t
o be infected with the mood too, a strange silence falling on our shared feasts as Christmas approached. To add to it all, my weekly meet-ups with Becky had become increasingly difficult, with Becky barely uttering a word, no matter how hard I tried.
Then some light appeared at the end of the tunnel.
‘I have some news!’ Julien said, jumping onto one of the chalk boulders a week before Christmas.
We all went silent, looking up at him.
‘I was going to wait until it all goes through,’ he said, ‘but what the hell. Turns out my former business partner squirrelled money away without telling me. Not just the company we owned, but others he’s been involved in since too. He’s been ordered to pay it back, so I’ll be coming into some money soon.’
Idris walked over and patted Julien on the back. ‘That’s awesome.’
‘Does this mean you’re leaving us?’ I asked him.
He jumped down and strolled over, gripping me by the shoulders. ‘On the contrary! I have a plan. This might sound controversial, but I think we should think about leaving this cave.’
We all exchanged looks.
‘It’s wonderful in the summer, but come on, let’s admit it,’ he said. ‘It sucks in the winter. What if we were somewhere where it’s warm all year around? Where gypsies dance into the night and the sound of crickets fills the air?’
‘Okay, I’m intrigued,’ I said, my heart hammering with hope.
Julien’s eyes sparkled. ‘I’ve read about this place in Granada where people live in caves. A whole community just like us. Well, I say like us – they haven’t been enlightened by Idris and the current yet,’ he said, grinning at Idris. ‘I could afford to fly us all out there, get provisions, set up in the caves there. I’ve made inquiries, and some are free to move into right now.’
‘You’ve really thought about this,’ Idris said, exchanging an excited look with me.
‘Can you imagine bringing your baby up in an endless summer?’ Julien said. ‘Away from accusing eyes and recriminations? Go forward anew, spread word of the current?’
I felt my heartbeat quicken. Maybe Julien was right? Maybe this was the way forward?
The Lost Sister Page 30
