by Jane Bidder
Yet she knew she couldn't stay here for ever. The money was running out. She needed to get a job. Ideally, something to do with fashion, but that seemed impossible out here.
‘You don’t need to worry about that,’ Georgina had said the other night when she’d confided her worries. ‘You can share our food.’
But how did they all afford to enjoy themselves? Georgie presumed they must come from very rich families. Certainly, Vanda was always going on about Georgina having a trust fund. Georgie wasn’t sure what that meant exactly but it sounded as though her friend was ‘set up nicely’, as her mother had said about the girl next door who had married a doctor.
Now, as she walked along the beach, feeling the sand between her toes, Georgie spotted a figure crouching in the brushwood next to a shack. It was Joly, speaking to one of the local boys! She could see from the way he was speaking that he wouldn’t want to be disturbed. Something also told her to hide. She sidestepped quickly behind a tree at the edge of the brushwood, but just as she ducked out of sight, she trod on a twig and there was a sharp crack.
Instantly, from behind the tree where she was hiding, managed to peep found and see the local boy look up, his eyes widening. Joly too looked around, his eyes searching. He saw her but said nothing.
Georgie knew instinctively that she had to stay exactly where she was.
‘It’s all right,’ she heard Joly say. ‘Just an animal.’
Then he handed over a small, clear plastic bag of what looked like sugar. In return, the boy gave him a fistful of notes. Then, all in the space of a few seconds, the boy jumped up and ran off through the shrubwood.
Georgie waited behind the tree. Should she come out and say hello? Or should she pretend she hadn’t seen anything? It all looked rather mysterious.
‘He’s gone.’ Joly’s voice didn’t have its usual jovial tone. ‘You can come out.’
Slowly she did so. Joly’s face was solemn. She almost didn’t recognise him without his usual smile. ‘Shall we walk?’
As they strode back to the camp along the beach, he draped an arm casually along her shoulder. His touch thrilled her. She could feel herself growing damp below, the way she did when she explored herself at night.
‘You’re probably shocked,’ he said easily.
‘Shocked?’ she turned her face to his. They were so close that he could easily have leant down and kissed her. No, that was wrong. He belonged to Georgina. Even so, she was thrilled by the proximity that took them to a new level of intimacy. ‘Why should I be shocked? You only sold him some sugar.’
Then his face broke out into a grin. ‘Either you’re very clever or you really don’t know what’s going on.’ He had stopped now and his face was so close to hers that she could hardly breathe. ‘We don’t all have trust funds, you know. But at the same time, we don’t want jobs in the city.’
He held up a hand to indicate the beach and the sea. ‘Where else would we want to live? But it costs money. So we have to pay for it somehow.’
Georgie was confused. ‘But how?’
Then something else flashed across his face. It looked like the pity that had flashed over Lyndsey’s parents’ faces when they’d visited her in hospital after the appendicitis. ‘You really don’t know, do you? Maybe it’s just as well, in case we are caught.’
His voice had a tinge of fear to it.
‘Caught for what?’
His fear was catching and she could feel herself trembling.
‘Nothing. Nothing.’
He’d moved away from her now and she felt a jolt of loss. Then he began to stride along the beach and she had to run to keep up with him. ‘Forget what you’ve seen. Do you hear me?’
She nodded. At that moment, she’d have done anything for him. ‘And don’t tell Georgina. Jonathan knows, of course, but there’s not much I can do about that.’
Knows what, she wanted to ask. But that might annoy him. And if there was one thing she’d learned from her mother it was that you didn’t want to annoy people. Not if you wanted them to love you.
They reached his tent. Inside, she could see Georgina in her sleeping bag. ‘Of course,’ she said softly. Then he placed his lips on her forehead.
Every bone in her body shivered with excitement.
‘Thank you for understanding.’ Then he paused. ‘You don’t pay us anything for your food, do you?’
Silently, she shook her head.
‘Every now and then, I might ask you to carry a package and leave it in the spot where you saw me.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘But you mustn’t mention it to anyone else, OK?’
‘OK.’
‘Good.’ He hesitated. ‘I trusted Louisa. She was one of us. But then she threatened to split on us so we made her leave.’ Gently he traced the outline of her lips. ‘I don’t want to have to do that to you.’
Then he slipped inside the tent and – with a terrible ache – Georgie saw him lie down beside Georgina.
Threatened to split on us? What about? Was it possible that those packages contained drugs? Was she being naïve, Georgie asked herself. Neither she nor Lyndsey had had anything to do with that kind of thing even though the boy next door had been ‘done’ for it.
Meanwhile, Georgie’s lips were still burning from Joly’s touch. If that’s what his finger could do to them, what would happen if he’d actually put his mouth against them?
A wave of excitement raced through her. Of course she wouldn’t split on him. How could she?
Lyndsey’s eyes were wide in her pale face. ‘What happened next?’
Georgie closed her eyes. She felt tired. Telling the truth was always exhausting. She’d read that phrase in a book once and it had stayed with her.
‘It’s complicated …’
‘I’m sorry,’ said a nurse walking briskly up. ‘Visiting hours have been over for some time now. We allowed you in as a favour but I really must ask you to leave now.’
‘Come back,’ pleaded Lyndsey, holding out her hand. ‘I can’t believe we’ve found each together again. I don’t want to lose you. It’s so comforting at a time … at a time like this.’
Georgie looked round quickly. Where was Lyndsey’s father? Could he have heard? ‘You mustn’t tell anyone,’ she said quietly.
‘I won’t.’
The nurse was staring at her suspiciously. Instantly, Georgie knew she’d made herself even more vulnerable but there’d been no option. How could you refuse a sick woman? A woman who had been your very best friend?
On the way out, she met Lyndsey’s dad waiting in the corridor. ‘Thought I’d give you two some more time together,’ he said, his eyes on hers.
Did he know?
Maybe. Maybe not. She could only hope that Lyndsey kept her promise.
‘I’m glad that my daughter has already made new friends,’ he continued, his eyes on her. ‘Goodness knows she’s going to need them.’
Georgie felt her throat thicken. She couldn’t find Lyndsey only to lose her again. There was so much she’d wanted to ask her too. Like whether her mother was still living in the old place …
‘I’ll come back tomorrow,’ she said.
The older man nodded. ‘Just as long as she doesn’t get upset.’ His words cast a warning note into the air.
‘Why would she do that?’ Georgie managed to say.
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, lass. You tell me.’
So he knew. Or at least suspected.
Go, said the voice inside her. Go away and don’t come back. Do you really want to blow your cover after all this time?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘I have to go now. Bye.’
Her head was a whirl as she made her way through long corridors with that ever-present whiff of disinfectant, towards Mrs R-R’s car. What should she do now?
The thoughts flying around her brain were almost enough to block out her client’s obvious annoyance.
‘What took you so long?’ Mrs R-R adjusted her designer sunglasses as she started th
e engine. ‘Really, Georgie. Time-keeping isn’t one of your strengths, is it?’
By the time they got back, Georgie had worked out a plan. It was the only way, she told herself. The only way to keep this façade going.
‘Move?’ demanded Sam shocked. ‘Why do you want to do that? I thought the whole idea was to put down roots after so much travelling. That’s what you’ve always said.’
‘I know, but I’ve changed my mind.’
It sounded weak and she knew it. ‘You only have to read the property pages to see that lots of people our age are downsizing.’ She clutched at her husband’s sleeve, aware that she was beginning to sound desperate. ‘We could use the money to buy somewhere smaller and live on our savings. You could reduce your hours and I might start a new business in a different place.’
‘But that doesn’t make sense. It would be hard to build up a new client base for both of us.’ Sam’s held her at arm’s length, looking straight at her. ‘What’s going on, Georgie?’
‘All this,’ she blurted out. ‘All this stuff about me! Stolen bank cards. My car which was there one minute and not the next. And now this latest thing …’
‘What latest thing?’
‘Nothing.’
‘No.’ This time, he caught her sleeve. ‘What do you mean?’
She was about to protest but then she saw Lyndsey in her head. Her old friend lying in a hospital bed. The whiff of antiseptic. Plastic meals. Time was running out for her. Time was running out for them both. All her old thoughts about hanging on to her fight were beginning to weaken.
‘I had another savings account,’ she heard herself say as she turned away from him. ‘An emergency one, just in case.’
His eyes went steely. ‘Just in case of what?’
Too late, she realised she should have kept quiet. ‘Just in case.’
‘You mean you had an account which I didn’t know about?’
‘Sort of.’
His voice took on a hard edge. ‘Well, either you did or you didn’t. And if you did, I’m beginning to wonder why.’
She sank onto a chair. ‘I don’t know. I just … I just felt safe knowing I had some savings of my own.’
‘Go on.’ The hurt in those two words was painful. Too late, she realised she’d made a mistake in not keeping this back.
‘Someone’s got to it. They’ve emptied it.’
‘How much?’
She couldn’t speak.
‘I said how much, Georgie?’
‘Nearly five thousand.’
He let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. ‘And you kept this from me?’
‘The point is that someone’s taken it.’
‘That’s not the point. The issue here is that you kept a secret from me. If you did that, what other secrets do you have?’
If only he knew!
The words came stammering out of her mouth. ‘The thing is that I kept the account card in a box upstairs, but when I checked, it wasn’t there. Then I found it in the back of my purse.’
Her husband’s face changed again. This time it was genuine fear. ‘It’s like the car,’ he said, moving towards her. ‘You said that had been stolen. But it hadn’t. You’d simply forgotten you’d left it there. Just like you probably forgot you’d put this card in your purse.’
He drew her to him. The familiar smell of his clothes made her want to weep. So too, did his change of voice. Sympathetic rather than accusing.
‘You need medical help, darling. Don’t worry. We’ll get through this. I promise.’
NINETEEN
I’ve driven people mad through doing the kind of thing I do. I didn’t know this till I heard about a pensioner who cracked up when her savings were emptied.
Strictly speaking, that wasn’t me. It was one of the team.
But it’s what we all do.
That made me feel bad for a bit. Mental illness is shit. My mother had it. She’d sit and stare into space for hours. Forget to feed me, she would.
When the neighbours found me, I weighed the same as a five year old. I was ten at the time.
Didn’t even know what the word ‘foster parent’ meant.
Just as well.
Sometimes I try to block it out but every now and then, it comes back to haunt me. All this stuff about celebrity abuse. It almost makes me laugh.
Except that if I’m not careful, I’d cry.
Even now I can remember stiffening in bed, as my foster dad padded across the room. ‘If you say anything,’ he’d whisper, ‘you’ll go back to your mum’s and not get fed.’
So I didn’t say anything. I just lay there.
No point in telling the social worker. People don’t believe you. I’d learned that one at an early age.
One day, I told myself, I’d get out. Meanwhile, I had to sit tight.
I don’t like to think about what happened next. Maybe another time. Right now, I’ve got other things to do. It’s how I block it out, see. Keep busy.
TWENTY
‘Of course I didn’t.’
Ellie’s voice was rich with indignation on the other end of the phone. ‘Dad’s got to you, hasn’t he? I can imagine him thinking I’m a thief but not you.’
Georgie felt as if she’d plunged a knife through her own chest. Why had she said anything? Of course Ellie wouldn’t have done that. Despite the lack of actual blood ties, they were closer than most mothers and daughters. And now she’d blown it.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘But all these weird things are happening to me. None of them make sense.’
Instantly, she could feel Ellie’s psychologist mode switching on with all the fervour of a keen student. ‘Life happens like that sometimes. Certain schools of thought think it’s a test that we’re all put through at particular times of our lives. We have to prove our mettle by coping or else we go under.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Don’t take it the wrong way. I’m trying to encourage you, Mum. You’re not the kind of person to go under. You’re strong. You’ll get through this.’
Would she? Fleetingly, Georgie thought back to the time in Thailand when her world had fallen in. She hadn’t thought she could get through that either, but the flight or fight instinct had kicked in and she’d fought back. She’d hoped she’d won then – after making some serious concessions – but now it looked as though she was wrong. Her past had come back to get her. Almost as vengefully as this person – whoever he or she was – that was emptying her savings account.
‘Let’s get practical,’ continued Ellie crisply. ‘Your hidden credit card went missing and then used. But somehow it turns up in your purse. You didn’t put it there. Or you don’t think you did. That leaves two options. Either someone stole it and replaced it, hoping it make it look as though you were losing your memory. Or you really did use it and can’t remember.’
That was the gist of it.
‘So start off with a two-prong attack. Go and see the doctor. Have some checks. And at the same time, push the bank. It’s got to do something. There must be a record of you or someone else taking the money.’
‘They’re looking into it but it all takes so long.’ She sighed. ‘Data protection issues; security checks; nothing happens fast.’
‘Then use that breathing space to get yourself looked at. Honestly, Mum. It’s not being weak. It’s being sensible.’
Reluctantly, Georgie made an appointment. Her neighbour had recommended the doctor shortly after they’d arrived in the UK and she liked her. The doctor’s son was in the same A-level year as Nick, and within months, they’d slipped into first-name terms (‘just call me Laura’) and often found themselves at the same local dinner parties.
But after explaining to Laura exactly what had happened, Georgie began to wonder if she should have booked an appointment with someone she didn’t know.
It might have made it easier. Less embarrassing.
‘Poor you.’ Laura took off her glasses and gave her the sort of smile one reserved for a
child who had fallen over and grazed her knee. ‘I do think it’s worth running a few tests but there’s a wait, I’m afraid. The memory clinic is always busy.’
The memory clinic? ‘That makes me feel as if I’m in my sixties,’ Georgie tried to joke.
‘You’d be surprised how early people can forget things.’ Laura spoke solemnly as if she’d had personal experience herself. ‘We’ll also run some blood tests, in case it’s hormonal.’ She glanced at the screen in front of her. ‘The last time you came – nearly a year ago now – you were having warm flushes.’
‘Still am,’ she admitted.
‘Then it might be perimenopausal or menopausal. If so, there are some things we can give you for that.’
‘HRT?’
‘Or herbal supplements. They can work well too.’
Could it really be as simple as that? Knock back the tablets and your money stopped going missing? But it wouldn’t solve the other thing. It wouldn’t protect her from being exposed.
‘There’s something else too,’ she began.
Laura waited. That’s what she liked about her. She was so even-keeled. So nice. So practical. Not the kind of person who would have got herself into the mess Georgie had.
‘I’m …’ then she stopped.
‘It’s all right.’ Laura laid her hand briefly on Georgia’s arm. ‘We’re in the surgery. This is totally confidential.’
‘I’m … anxious about something,’ she blurted about. ‘Worried about something that happened a long time ago which has suddenly come back to trouble me.’
There was a flash of curiosity in her friend’s eyes, followed by sympathy. ‘That’s very common too, especially at our age. In fact, I’ve just been to a conference about it.’
She handed Georgie a leaflet. ‘This might be worth following up. It’s a walk-in clinic for low-grade stress and anxiety. No appointments necessary.’ She faltered.
‘Yes?’
‘The only thing is that the doctor who runs it is married to Becky.’
Becky?
She’d been in their book group. In fact, she was one of the reasons Georgie had left. Becky had always dominated the evenings with her over-bearing views.
