The Fallout

by Rebecca Thornton

  ‘Tell me anything about what, exactly?’ I push, but she crosses her arms and looks away. ‘Sarah?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she says a little too brightly. ‘Just wondering what you guys spoke about.’ A beat of silence and then she changes the subject. ‘Did she mention her trips abroad then? About going away or anything?’

  ‘No,’ I reply. ‘What trips abroad? Is this what you came over to ask me?’

  ‘Oh don’t worry,’ she ignores my dig. ‘Just I thought I overheard her saying something about some private big thing she’s doing. Just being nosey, that’s all.’

  ‘We didn’t talk about anything of importance you know. Just chit-chat.’ Sarah visibly slumps her shoulders, as if in relief – as if I’ve just told her she’s got a free holiday with childcare thrown in. ‘It was nice. What’s up? You seem to have gone off her all of a sudden.’

  ‘I haven’t. It’s just that …’ She picks up a crumb of cookie off the wrapping and puts it on her tongue. ‘It’s just that, well I don’t know. I was just wondering if there really is more to Ella than she lets on. You know. All this polished nonsense. This image of, like, oh look at me,’ she screws up her face. ‘Well, I’m sure behind closed doors, it’s not all as perfect as it looks.’

  ‘Probably not.’ When Sarah’s in this kind of mood I just have to ride it out, allow her to get everything she’s been harbouring overnight off her chest. I want to ask her if that’s why she’s come over, rather than to see me, or Jack. ‘But she’s quite open about everything.’

  ‘I bet she is,’ she says with such vehemence that a fleck of her saliva lands by my feet.

  ‘Well, you don’t need to worry,’ I tell her. ‘She may look like she has it all, but you’re much more fun than Ella Bradby.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m worried about. Except with the comparison you’ve just acknowledged the fact that I’m definitely not as perfect as her. But it’s not that.’

  I wonder whether I should push it. Ask her if not that, then what? But I sense it best not to pursue the conversation further.

  ‘You don’t need to worry about anything, Sa.’ I lean over and squeeze her wrist, because, sometimes, all Sarah needs is a bit of reassurance. ‘Why ever would you need to?’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘She may have a nice house and look like a celebrity. And indeed, once screwed one. But, she’s not you. Is she?’

  I feel sorry for Sarah when she’s in this frame of mind. Something sets her off and she can’t ever quite seem to shake the stream of negativity in her mind, often leaving it to me to pick up the pieces. Except at the moment, I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to keep Sarah’s emotional fallout at bay. And she should know this. Perhaps she’ll realise, take that side of things into hand and stop making me a repository for her insecurities.

  ‘No. But what would you do if she was hiding things? If she wasn’t quite the person you thought she was?’

  ‘Why are you out to get her?’ I feel the earlier irritation rising again. I’ve given her the reassurance she needs. Can’t she just drop it? ‘I don’t want to hear anything bad about Ella,’ I tell her. ‘Not now. Not with Jack – no negativity. And after all she did for me. It feels wrong, OK? And like I said. She’s not you.’

  ‘Fine.’ Her scowl stretches into a half smile and then she looks at Jack and something crosses her expression.

  ‘I can’t stop thinking about it,’ she says, nodding at my little boy. ‘The moment he fell.’

  I’m still not ready for Jack to hear us talking about it. Not yet. And perhaps, in truth, I’m not ready myself to revisit what happened. And neither by the looks of things is Sarah – she’s shaking from head to toe. Without answering her question, I motion for her to be quiet. She leans forward and strokes his hair.

  ‘I’m here for you,’ she whispers. I’ve never seen such a serious expression on her face. ‘I’m here for you for whatever you need, whenever you need. OK?’

  ‘Well, you’re having us as guests in your home. That’s enough,’ I tell her. ‘Gav of course doesn’t want me to go.’ It feels good to confide in Sarah after my earlier annoyance. To show my vulnerabilities to her after the weird dynamic that had been put in place since Jack’s accident. ‘He was going mad about it all if I’m honest.’

  As if on cue, my phone pings. It’s him. Everything ok? he asks, not for the first time that day.

  ‘Was he now,’ Sarah says. ‘Well, I think it will be really good for you to have your own life. Without anyone constantly questioning you.’ She nods her head as though agreeing with herself.

  Lots of feelings pass through me at this point. Irritation that she’s implying I can’t stand up to Gav, probably because I know it’s the truth. Then anger. Then a weird sense of loyalty to him. And then guilt again for what happened to Jack. It’s exhausting and, to top it off, my sleep problems have come back in full force.

  ‘Me too,’ I say, not wanting to get into an argument about my ex-husband’s behaviour. ‘Hey, by the way, Gav also said something about Tom wanting to rent the flat out? He doesn’t mind about me, Jack and Thea, right? You’re sure it’s OK?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ she says, but she doesn’t look me in the eye. ‘Course I’m sure. He’s fine with it all.’

  ‘Great. I’d hate to think that we would come between you two.’

  ‘Nah. You come first in this situation,’ she says. ‘Especially …’

  ‘Especially what?’

  ‘Just, well, especially. He’s really happy we can help.’ Sarah always does the same thing when she lies. She grasps at her necklace, although today I see she’s not wearing one and her fingers just graze her neck. But, I absolutely cannot believe that Tom wouldn’t be happy to help. I must have it wrong. After all, Gav’s one of his best friends too.

  ‘Wanna hand packing?’ She half stands up. ‘The flat’s all done, so whenever you feel ready.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I tell her. ‘I’m going to start it later. I’ve actually got a bit of a headache. Again. I’m not sure why. They keep creeping up on me. Lack of sleep, I suppose.’

  ‘You have? Oh no, go and lie down right away. I’ll stay here with Jack. It’s probably stress, you know.’

  ‘You mind if I just go upstairs for ten minutes? I won’t have a full-on lie-down. Just a moment’s quiet.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind. Do I need to give Jack anything? Meds or anything?’

  ‘It’s OK – we’ve got a private physio coming today. I gave him his meds earlier. Thank you, though.’ I leave the room. Thank God Sarah seems a little more normal after her tirade about Ella.

  I walk up the stairs right to the top of the house. When I reach my bedroom, I do some neck exercises. Rolling my head. Stretching my muscles, except everything just seems to get worse. I had felt the pain slowly at first, moments after Sarah had arrived. It had wrapped itself around the bridge of my nose, and then tightened its noose – like a blunt trauma to my face.

  This is the second bad headache I’ve had in the past week. I’m not normally very anxious about my health. But I sit on the bed and I think about the pain. How much it reminds me of when I’d just had Jack. The way my skin felt like it was burning from fatigue, and then it all comes flooding back to me – those newborn days with my son. The constant screaming and crying. The funny, colicky, choking noise he would make in his sleep. I never knew what was normal or not. In the end, I’d watch over the rise and fall of his fluttering chest, until I heard the sound of the bin lorries chugging their way up and down our road, the sunlight bringing around yet another day. Thank God Thea, so far, has been an easy baby. An easy sleeper.

  I shut my eyes. All these thoughts jostling for attention when all I really need is to numb myself with some shut-eye. I don’t know if I can pack and look after Jack and Thea feeling like this. I could ask Sarah but I sense she wants to get back to her own family. And God knows she seems on edge too. I text Gav, asking him to come back soon instead of going clothes shopping.
After everything that happened after Jack had been born, I wouldn’t be surprised if he came racing back, desperate to start breathing down my neck again.

  I need a hand, I type.

  I’ll come back soon, he replies straight away.

  I wonder if he really is clothes shopping. And his haircut too? He never normally gives two hoots about his appearance; generally, he can pull off any look he wants without making any effort at all. And anyway, he always goes to the vintage shop in East London to get his clothes, which isn’t actually open on a Sunday. Why had he been so late to come and see Jack the other day, too? He seems so distant, and off. It’s like I don’t know the man I’m married to at all.

  I open the wardrobe to get out a jumper and stare at the now half-empty side that used to hold all of Gav’s clothes – his multitude of colourful jackets and suede shoes. His rows of old rock band T-shirts: The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, The Ramones, and then the more obscure ones that he’d wear on nights out. The reminders of his absence are everywhere, and yet still – still he won’t let me go.

  SARAH

  Sarah has a sense that Liza doesn’t want her in the house. She doesn’t know why, really. It’s just something she’s picked up on. She tells herself maybe it’s just everything on her friend’s mind. The fact she’d been feeling off earlier with a headache and mentioned she hadn’t been sleeping. And anyway, as Liza’s best friend she needs to make sure she’s there to pick up the pieces. Which is exactly what she’s doing, isn’t it? The school Christmas fair, them moving in. But maybe Liza just needs a bit of space. After all, the physio is arriving soon, Gav’s apparently on his way back, and she doesn’t want to be in the way. By the time Liza comes back downstairs, Sarah’s made up her mind.

  ‘Hey, I’m going to make us some tea and then make my way home. Shall I take Thea with me? Whilst the physio comes for Jack?’

  ‘Home? Already?’ Liza sounds so surprised that Sarah wonders if maybe she got it wrong. Maybe she does need her after all.

  ‘Well, I just thought that you could do with some space.’

  ‘It’s OK. Could you just wait with me for Gav to get back?’

  ‘Oh, of course. I wasn’t trying to go. I was just aware you might want to be alone.’ Strange, she thinks. Liza is mostly one to enjoy her own company.

  ‘No. Go if you need to. It’s important you spend time with your family too. Before we move in.’

  Sarah wonders whether she’s imagining the note of resentment in her friend’s tone. ‘But I don’t mind staying at all. Of course I’ll stay until Gav’s here.’

  Oh God, she thinks. It’s coming out all wrong. She wants to tell Liza she’ll be there for her. She doesn’t know whether to stay or go. Why is she second-guessing everything? Why can’t she just do the right thing, for once in her life?

  ‘OK.’ Sarah claps her hands on her knees and stands up. ‘Right. I’m going to make us a nice cuppa.’

  Liza seems slightly cheered by this.

  She feels a bit bad about Tom and how little time they’ve spent together recently, but they have a lifetime of it after all. And she still has to tell him about Liza, Thea and Jack moving in. She swallows back a sour taste. Shit. What the hell is he going to say?

  ‘Listen, we haven’t set a date. For you moving in. Anytime from Tuesday is fine. I can help drive over everything.’ If she’s got a deadline, she thinks, she’ll soon be forced into telling Tom.

  ‘Great. Tuesday,’ says Liza. Sarah can’t quite place it but she swears there’s something off about her friend. She wonders if she knows – if somehow Liza knows what she did and is waiting. For retribution. Or to find the right time to probe her about the accident. She starts to shake. Or maybe Ella had said something after all and Liza has been keeping it under her hat until the right moment. Surely Liza wouldn’t trap her like that?

  She’s playing this all wrong. She needs Ella on side. She needs to up her game. Oh God. How has it come to this?

  ‘Perfect,’ she trills. ‘Lovely. Tuesday it is. Earl Grey?’

  ‘Coffee,’ Liza frowns. ‘When have I ever had Earl Grey? That’s Ella … But actually, I don’t think I’ll have any caffeine. I’m trying to sort my sleep. I’ll have herbal. Thank you.’

  ‘Oh gosh. Sorry.’ No caffeine. A first time for everything. Liza really must be tired. Sarah runs into the kitchen and prepares the drinks. She sees the candles that Ella had brought for when Jack came home, the wax half-sunken, and picks out a wick that’s embedded itself right down into the wax. Great globs of white stick into her fingernails. She presses a bit harder and thinks of Ella. A bit like a voodoo doll. She finishes making the drinks, brings one back to Liza and thinks about her next steps. She wants to discuss things, have a nice chat with her friend, but an awkward tension hangs in the air. Instead they both focus on Jack, who is looking at pictures on Liza’s phone.

  ‘What’s that then, Jack?’ asks Liza.

  ‘A llama?’

  ‘That’s right darling,’ claps Sarah. ‘Do you remember when we saw that llama at the zoo?’

  She turns to Liza, but she doesn’t hear her. And just as she’s about to say something else, Jack tracks his gaze towards her.

  ‘Hey, Aunty Sarah. Were you there? Did I see you?’

  Oh God, she thinks. This is it. He’s remembering now. The fall. The moments before. He must have overheard someone talking about how she’d been there to check on him before the accident. And now he knows she’s lying. She supposes the anaesthetic is wearing off. He’ll be more with it as the days pass. She should have thought about all of this. She grips her hands together and manages a smile, ready to spout out her rehearsed lines.

  ‘Oh,’ laughs Jack. ‘I remember now, Casper was there – he wanted to see the lions – but not you.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ Sarah says, burning with an adrenaline overload. ‘Oh the zoo. Yes. Oh yes,’ she squeaks. ‘You mean the zoo. Of course I was there. Wouldn’t leave you and your mummy to go on a special day without me, would I?’ She’s overcompensating now, relief making her almost hysterical.

  ‘Look, Liza,’ she says, dizzy with it all. ‘Let me sit here with Jack. Please. Thea’s going to wake up soon. You go to sleep. Please. You look exhausted.’

  She’s speaking but she has no control over any part of herself. This is a terrifying glimpse into her future, where anything that anyone says or does could have a potentially lethal double meaning. Christ. What has she done? She swallows, the poison of her thoughts seeping through her limbs.

  ‘I need to stay awake until Gav gets back.’ Sarah recognises this strange mood in Liza. She thinks back to when Jack was tiny. The few weeks before Liza had gone totally AWOL. She had discussed it night after night with Tom.

  ‘I think she’s got postnatal depression,’ she had said. ‘Or something. How can I help her? She’s not sleeping. She’s being weird.’

  ‘Are you mad? Are any of us sleeping? Or is Liza’s sleep more important than ours?’

  ‘No, it’s not just that. She’s all, like, shaky and odd and … I don’t know. She said something happened the other day and ever since then it’s just, she’s been quite distant.’ And then her friend had gone missing for weeks on end. Initially, Sarah thought she’d been ghosted. Until she realised no one else had seen her either.

  ‘Talk to her?’ Tom had said. And boy, had she tried. Sarah had called and called, and hadn’t laid eyes on Liza once during that entire period. She had even texted Gav to ask what was going on.

  She’s just going through some stuff, he had replied. She’ll be back soon. Her little disappearing act, she had called it, and neither of them had ever mentioned it again.

  By the time Gav gets home, Liza’s pacing the floor, looking twitchy. Sarah wants to tell her that the more worked up she gets, the less she’s going to be able to sleep. But she knows it won’t go down well, so she keeps her mouth shut.

  ‘I’m back.’ Gav slams the door shut, looking around the room to check everything is in pl
ace. ‘Everything OK? Kids OK?’

  ‘Yup,’ Sarah says. She looks over at Liza who seems to have been struck dumb, the air pulsing with Gav’s angry presence. ‘I’m going to make a move now, I’ll leave you alone. Liza needs to sleep.’

  ‘Well, I’m here now, so she can. Although I’ve got to pop out in a bit. So if you do really have to go, do it now.’

  ‘She’s pretty desperate for some shut-eye. Aren’t you, Liza?’ Sarah tries to be loyal. To get Gav to understand that Liza really is exhausted. ‘We all know what happens when we’re deprived of sleep, don’t we?’

  She laughs but doesn’t expect the mutinous expressions from both Liza and Gav; the dark look on his face as he snaps his head towards the children. And then the inquisitive look towards Liza – which she reads as: What have you told Sarah, what does she know? How peculiar. But then this whole thing is peculiar, she thinks. Suddenly she can’t wait to escape this horrible atmosphere that’s descended upon them.

  ‘Anyway, Gav, you got anything nice planned?’ She tries to keep her voice on the straight and narrow.

  ‘Not really. I’m going up to The Vale Club. Make sure they’re running the investigation properly. Doing the right things.’

  ‘Really?’ She pinches the fleshy bit of her left palm, still reeling from thinking Jack was about to out her.

  ‘Yup. They’ve been quite on it so far but they’re going to want to talk to the people involved.’

  ‘Like me?’ she manages to say. ‘Will they want to talk to me?’

  ‘I believe so. I’ll see what they say later. They’ve brought health and safety in from outside. And now they’ll want to chat to the people who were there.’

  ‘OK.’ She doesn’t know how on earth she’s managing to stay calm. ‘Bye then everyone,’ she shouts, but Liza has already disappeared upstairs and Jack and Gav barely register she’s leaving. ‘Bye,’ she shouts again then shuts the door behind her.

  When she finally gets home, she collapses on the sofa with Tom and Casper.