Cold Cold Sea

by Linda Huber

  The other woman’s face relaxed somewhat. ‘Thank you. She didn’t sleep well, actually. I took her to the doctor before school to check that everything was alright, and it is.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Katie. ‘Then you should both go home and rest. See you tomorrow, Hailey.’

  Alone again, she finished tidying the play area, thinking sadly about Hailey and her pushy mother. The woman’s words on entering the classroom seemed more than a little harsh for a forgotten hairband. Thank goodness Mr Marshall would be home soon. Hopefully he’d be able to help his daughter. Although it was puzzling that Hailey hadn’t spoken to him when he’d called yesterday afternoon. The connection had been okay at first.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Early October

  Katie stood in the school gym, stopwatch in one hand and whistle poised as the two teams of children threw tennis balls into crates.

  ‘Ten seconds!’ she called. ‘... Five seconds! And... ’

  She blew, and an ear-piercing blast echoed round the gym. The blue team, who had very obviously won the game, jumped up and down cheering while the greens kicked their feet and groaned.

  Katie laughed and clapped for silence.

  ‘Well done blue team! And greens, that was a good effort considering you were one man short. Let’s clear the equipment away now and have a few rounds of Beetle Tig before playtime.’

  The children didn’t need to be told twice. Beetle Tig was a big favourite. In two minutes they were ready to start the game.

  ‘David, you can be catcher first,’ said Katie, presenting David with the catcher’s cap, which he put on back to front. ‘Now, remember everyone, if David taps you, lie down on your back and wave your arms and legs in the air like an upside down beetle, until someone comes and rolls you over. Then you can run around again. We’ll count beetles after two minutes. Ready - go!’

  Shrieking, the children ran around the gym, a few of them allowing themselves to be caught, just for the fun of scrabbling like beetles on the floor. Several of the children were an easy mark for the catcher. Graeme and Julia both had two left feet, and although Hailey could be quick enough when she felt like it, today was obviously one of her dreamy days. She was trotting round the edge of the gym, a vacant expression on her face.

  Katie blew her whistle and the children stood still, apart from those on the floor.

  ‘Well done, David, you caught four beetles. Let’s see how you get on, Amy.’

  David passed the cap to Amy, and the game started anew. Katie glanced at the clock. We’ll have one more round after this, she decided, walking up the side of the gym. She happened to pass Hailey, who was lying on her back waving arms and legs with no great enthusiasm. Katie gave her a grin, then stopped short.

  The loose sleeves of Hailey’s blue t-shirt had fallen back towards her shoulders, revealing a long, nasty-looking bruise on the inside of the little girl’s left arm. Katie only just managed not to gasp. Blue, green, purple, yellow - this was the worst bruise she had seen in all her five years as a teacher. She was still staring at it when Sheila ran up and rolled Hailey over and they both trotted off.

  Katie frowned, lifting the whistle to her mouth.

  When the final round of Beetle Tig started, she made sure she was in a position to see the bruise again when Hailey was on the floor. It seemed a very strange place to have such an awful bruise. What on earth had happened? When the game was over, Katie sent the other children to get changed and called Hailey over.

  ‘That’s a nasty bruise, Hailey love,’ she said, taking the little girl’s arm and examining the discolouration. It wasn’t wide, just long and thin and in places very deep. Katie put her arm round Hailey’s thin shoulders and gave her a hug. ‘What happened?

  Hailey peered at her arm, then shrugged. ‘I don’t remember,’ she said, her voice sinking to a whisper.

  ‘Did you bang yourself in the last week or so? Or fall, or something?’ asked Katie, rubbing the arm gently. It was difficult to believe that the child had injured herself to this extent without noticing.

  ‘I don’t remember,’ whispered Hailey, staring at the door to the changing room with panic in her eyes. Katie decided to let it go for the moment. Hailey obviously didn’t want to talk about it.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll ask Mrs Wilson if she has some special cream for you. Does Mummy put anything on it?’

  Hailey shook her head and ran to the door, moving a lot faster than she had during the entire gym lesson. Katie grinned wryly. Leaving the children with Alison she went back to the classroom, where Nora was setting out juice beakers.

  ‘Have a look at the bruise on Hailey’s left arm, would you?’ said Katie, helping herself to a swig of vitamin-enriched orange and mango. ‘It’s not new but it looks sore, maybe you have some magic cream or something. Just for the feel-good factor, you know.’

  Nora slapped Katie’s fingers away from the juice bottle.

  ‘Can do. Go and get your coffee, Miss. Depriving these poor children of their vitamins. Shame on you!’

  When Katie returned to her classroom after break, Nora ushered her straight back into the corridor. The matron’s usually pleasant expression was troubled.

  ‘Katie, that’s one terrible bruise. And there’s another on her head, almost as bad. You can see it easily if you push her band back a little. She says she doesn’t know what happened, but do you know what I think? I think the one on her arm has been made by a hand - like this.’

  She grasped Katie’s arm and squeezed.

  Katie stared. What was going on? Who had squeezed Hailey’s arm like that? Mrs Marshall? If so, why? And where did the bruise on Hailey’s head fit in?

  ‘What do you think we should do?’ she asked, and Nora grimaced.

  ‘It’s an awkward one. Play it very low key to start with, anyway. There may well be a completely innocent explanation; you know how kids do pick up bruises. But we’ll have to ask about it. Do you want to do that or shall I?’

  Katie pushed her fingers through her hair. She knew she would have to do this herself, tempting as it was to pass the buck to Nora.

  ‘I’ll do it. I can do it less officially than you could as matron. I’ll just say exactly what happened - that I saw the bruise when Hailey had her gym kit on. But Nora, Hailey says she doesn’t remember what happened. But she must, and if this is a squeeze mark... ’

  Nora patted Katie’s shoulder. ‘Don’t get worked up until we know what’s going on. Five-year-olds often can’t categorise what’s happened to them, and I must say Mrs Marshall doesn’t seem to be the kind of person to go about hurting small children. She’s always so correct and in control. You ask her casually, and see what she says, then we’ll take it from there.’

  That afternoon, Katie helped Hailey into the BMW, and then took a deep breath, her insides churning nervously.

  ‘Mrs Marshall, can I have a quick word, please?’

  She opened the driver’s door, indicating that the other woman should get out. Immediately, a haughty expression appeared on Hailey’s mother’s face, and Katie had to concentrate to prevent herself from stammering. The woman had the unique ability to make her feel like a five-year-old schoolgirl herself.

  ‘I wanted to ask about Hailey’s arm,’ she began, doing her best to sound helpful. ‘We had gym this morning and I noticed a bruise. I wondered if you were putting anything on it? Our matron has some very good cream for that kind of thing.’

  There was a perceptible pause, and Katie saw that Mrs Marshall’s face was flushed. She felt her heart begin to beat faster. When the other woman spoke her voice was hesitant.

  ‘I’m not, no. I’m sure there’s no need to go to such lengths, it’s only a bruise.’

  ‘Yes, of course, but it’s a bad one. What happened? Hailey doesn’t seem to remember.’

  There was another pause before Mrs Marshall gave an embarrassed laugh.

  ‘Oh, she would say that. The silly child almost ran into the main road last week. I only j
ust managed to reach her and grasp her arm before she went under a van. When I pulled her back on the pavement again she fell. I may have been a little rough, poor darling, but it all happened so quickly.’

  ‘Gosh, well, better a bruise than being run over,’ said Katie, relieved. ‘Is it alright if we cream Hailey’s arm at school?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Mrs Marshall graciously, getting back into the car. Katie waved goodbye as they drove off.

  ‘Yes, that sounds plausible,’ said Nora, when Katie reported back. ‘We know what a dreamer Hailey can be. It explains the bruise on her head, too, she must have banged it when she fell on the pavement. You see? An innocent explanation. I’ll bring you the magic cream.’

  Katie agreed, but her doubts returned the following day when she was smoothing the lavender scented lotion into Hailey’s arm, creating an interesting contrast to the child’s camomile shampoo. Would one quick yank really produce such an awful bruise?

  She told Mark about it after school, and he nodded.

  ‘I can buy that, because it was Hailey’s mother who pulled her back. If you or I had done it there probably wouldn’t have been such a bruise. But when it’s your own flesh and blood you often react more forcibly than you actually have to in a situation like that.’

  Katie frowned. ‘But why did Hailey say she couldn’t remember what happened? She must.’

  Mark shrugged, grinning. ‘She wanted to avoid a lecture on the sins of dreaming while she was crossing the road? Or maybe she got such a fright she’s blocked it out. Search me.’

  It all sounded reasonable. Katie knew she should make an effort to be more objective about Hailey. But try as she might, she couldn’t put aside the feeling that there was something here she just wasn’t getting.

  Mark looked at her hopefully. ‘That extra piece of advice will cost you one coffee. Let’s go to the harbour caff and watch the fishing boats unload.’

  Katie gathered her things together, grateful for the company but more than a little distracted by her thoughts.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Phillip slammed his laptop shut and the casing split at the corner, but that really didn’t matter because the goddamn machine was dead anyway. He’d wanted to check his flights.

  He stood by the window of Gran’s hospital room and gazed at the scene below, blue-green water with white-tipped waves rolling up the long, golden beach. Happy Californians were out there having a good time, just as he’d done as a boy, when he and Gran had spent every summer here with Great-aunt Mary. He’d always dreamt of coming back with his own family one day, but soon now his last tie with this place would be broken. How strange it would be, no ‘home base’ at Winchester Beach. No Gran.

  There was a tap at the door and Jeff Powell put his head round, beckoning Phillip out to the corridor when he saw that his patient was asleep.

  ‘Anything new?’ said Phillip, knowing that nothing now could be new. The cancer was everywhere and the doctors’ aim was simply to keep the old woman comfortable.

  ‘I wanted you to show you this,’ said Jeff, leading Phillip into his office. Phillip watched apprehensively as the doctor accessed Gran’s scans and pointed to the stomach tumour on the latest image. ‘And this.’

  He clicked on another set of pictures and indicated an area on Gran’s spinal column.

  ‘It’s spread very quickly this week, Phillip. I know the two of you have arranged to say goodbye on Thursday, but we’re looking at days here. A week, maybe. I don’t know if that could change your plans.’

  Phillip was silent. Only last Wednesday the doctors had thought that Gran could linger into November. So this really would be his last chance to be with her, but - there was Jennifer too. He just had to go home and see if she was coping as well as she said she was. If he was honest she’d sounded a bit odd the last several times he’d phoned. All this stuff about a surprise. And what the hell was he supposed to do now?

  ‘How sure is that?’ he said at last, and the doctor grimaced.

  ‘Well, there’s never an exact prognosis, and the fact that the lung tumour hasn’t grown makes it even more difficult. If I was a betting man I’d say a week or less, though.’

  ‘Right. I - I’d better stay, then.’

  The doctor patted his shoulder and left him on a bench in the corridor. Phillip leaned his arms on his knees, trying to get his head round the decision he had just made.

  It was a horrible situation to be in. He was waiting for his Gran to die, and no way did he want that wait to be over, and yet... he had a duty to Jennifer too. She’d had such a bad time before. Still, that was in the past now. He was just nervous because he couldn’t see with his own eyes that she was okay.

  He would have to phone and tell her about his delay coming home. If only she’d agreed to come over. She had repeatedly refused though, and now he thought about it, even that was a bit strange. Her fear of flying wasn’t really a good enough reason to say no to his request that they spend a few weeks with his dying grandmother.

  Apprehension settled even more firmly in Phillip’s middle, and he sat straighter, thinking back to his last telephone conversation with his wife. What on earth could this surprise be?

  A little shiver ran through Phillip as he remembered Jennifer’s voice on the phone. She was definitely hiding something big. If only he could contact Thea, but he had no phone number for her and he hadn’t been able to find her on the web. Maybe he should phone Bea. But the last time he’d done that, Jennifer had made it very clear that she didn’t want him to have anything more to do with her mother.

  Maybe he was worrying about nothing. An over-bright voice on the phone and a mysterious surprise. That was all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mid October

  ‘Last day of the holidays, Hailey darling, we’re going to have such a lovely time!’

  Jennifer watched as Hailey took her place at the breakfast table. Thank goodness the child had a little more colour this past week or two. The hair was still all wrong, but they were going to address that today and then she would look like a proper daughter and not some waif from the local orphanage. And the bruises were almost gone.

  Jennifer spooned up her muesli. She was feeling surprisingly good these days. She’d expected the last few weeks of her pregnancy to be exhausting, but life was so bright and – exuberant, yes, that was the word – she really couldn’t remember when she’d last felt so energetic.

  Of course Hailey still had her moments of being sulky, and she could be a real scaredy-cat too, which was infuriating when Jennifer was in such a good mood all the time. But all in all, the child was settling in very well. There had been no more wet clothes brought home from school - it was amazing what setting clear boundaries could do. So all they needed was to fix the hair.

  A rush of affection almost overwhelmed Jennifer as she looked at Hailey, who was drinking her milk exactly as a good child should. The little girl caught her eye and smiled promptly. Oh, it was wonderful to have a daughter. And in no time at all Phillip would be home to share her joy. The wait was nearly over now.

  Jennifer massaged her belly, rejoicing when a baby moved beneath her hands, but her happy mood slipped when she glanced at Hailey again. What was the child thinking, scowling into her cereal like that?

  Jennifer sipped her tea, deliberately looking away from the little girl. She was going to enjoy today, even if Hailey insisted on being miserable. It was marvellous, feeling strong and positive all the time. Jennifer laughed aloud.

  ‘We have a busy day in front of us, darling. First, we’re going to get our hair cut. Then after lunch we’re going to the clinic and Dr Rosen will check that the babies are alright. That’ll be fun, won’t it?’

  Hailey stared mutely, touching her straggling brown hair. Jennifer got up and walked round the table.

  ‘Big smile, darling, Mummy wants you to be happy!’

  The smile appeared immediately and Jennifer hugged Hailey tightly.

  ‘Answer the lady
nicely when she speaks to you,’ said Jennifer, swinging into the last parking space outside the hairdressing salon near Polpayne harbour. ‘And don’t forget to smile. You know what will happen if you aren’t good, don’t you?’

  Her face blanching, Hailey nodded.

  It probably wasn’t necessary to repeat warnings like that anymore, thought Jennifer, pushing the child into the salon. Hailey knew what was expected of her, look how nicely she was greeting the two hairdressers waiting for them. Jennifer’s explanation of too much tropical sunshine, and shampoo that had done more harm than good was accepted, and the younger assistant started to wash Hailey’s hair.

  Jennifer leaned back, enjoying the soothing fingers massaging her scalp. There was nothing like a relaxing visit to the hairdresser. And she needn’t have worried about Hailey because both hairdressers were interested in nothing but Jennifer’s pregnancy.

  When was the baby due? Twins! Did she know what sex they were? Was it to be a Caesarean? Twins!! Didn’t she get awfully tired?

  Jennifer enjoyed herself thoroughly. They left the salon an hour later, Jennifer newly washed and blow-dried, and Hailey shorn within an inch of her scalp.

  As usual, the practice contractions started after lunch. Jennifer lay on the sofa, glancing through Hailey’s baby album, still on the coffee table after Miss McLure’s visit. What a special time babyhood was. Hailey had changed, look at the dimples in those first birthday photos. Did dimples just come and go like that?

  Uneasily, Jennifer rubbed the tightness away from her bump, glad to see that it was time to go to the clinic. She had booked herself into the Rosen Clinic, a private hospital on the Bodmin Road. The NHS maternity unit at Newquay was nearer, of course, but the Rosen Clinic was quieter and she was guaranteed a single room there.

  ‘Come along, Hailey,’ she called up the stairs, and the child ran down quickly, a scared expression on her face until she remembered the smile.