The Fallout

by Rebecca Thornton

  Just as she’s on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, the phone clicks.

  ‘Hello?’ A kind-sounding man picks up. ‘Craig speaking. How can I help you?’

  ‘Hello? Hi.’ Sarah starts the ignition. She stops for a minute. Is this really the right thing? Should she talk to someone first? Ella? Tom? No. She’s not going to. It’s time she took proper control instead of overthinking everything. She’d made mistake after mistake, and the WhatsApp was the last straw. She needs to start correcting things.

  ‘Hello?’ says the voice. ‘It’s all right. Just take a deep breath. You can talk. It’s OK.’

  ‘I need to tell you something.’ She hasn’t thought this through. She has no idea what to say next. ‘I need your help.’

  ‘Slow down, Madam. We’re right here. You need to breathe.’

  ‘OK. I’m, um … I’m trying.’ She gasps at the air; it feels hot and syrupy in her mouth. ‘I think it’s urgent,’ she says. ‘It’s about my friend. My best friend.’ And then she starts talking and, to her surprise, finds she can’t stop.

  SCREENSHOT

  Sent to: Year Four mums

  WhatsApp group: CFC board

  Members: Sarah, Ella

  Sarah: God these women are hideous. Hideous, hideous people. Listening to them droning on is painful. Like I’m being repeatedly hit on the head. Makes me want to stab myself in the face. Ella c-bag Bradby! Who the HELL does she think she is? Nothing better to do in her sorry little life. Bossing everyone around to make herself feel important. What a TWAT. Desperate bitch. Just cos she’s got money, she thinks she can control us all. Bet her kids turn out to be right little bullies. It’s like some deathly mothers’ meeting – all these awful women squawking away about their revolting little children. Nosey parkers with Charlotte G going on about Jack. What the hell does she know anyway? What is the collective noun for a group of women like this? Ah – I know:

  LOSERS

  *Crying face* *Knife emojis*

  LIZA

  ‘Who you texting?’ I watch Gav’s thumbs skate across his phone’s keypad. ‘Looks interesting.’ Gav had gone home last night but had arrived early this morning to see me and the children. It almost feels like the old Sunday mornings – where we’d mooch around all day doing nothing.

  ‘Just Tom. Had a chat with him yesterday. Said Sarah’s been behaving strangely. You know anything? Don’t mention it though.’

  It’s been ages since Gav’s confided in me like this. Katy must make him happy where I haven’t been able to. Her and my son. I pull out my phone and show him the message I received yesterday.

  ‘Well – since we’re sharing it might be something to do with this.’ I watch his brown eyes glance over the message, and then widen.

  ‘Oh my God.’ He bursts into laughter. ‘This is going to go down like a shit-storm. What she’s said is awful. And about other people’s kids too. Oh my God. Isn’t she meant to be running the fair?’

  ‘Well. She was. But then Ella took over. Got all the sponsorship. I’ve just sent her an SOS message – to see if she knows that it’s gone round the school – but she hasn’t replied. She’s probably in the middle of a massive shame spiral.’

  ‘I’m sure she must be. Hang on. The ten k? Ella got it, just like that?’ He nods his head in approval. ‘Wow. I’m impressed.’

  ‘She did. Ella magic.’

  ‘You know where she got it?’ he asks. ‘Seems an awful lot to get in one fell swoop when you were expecting it to take months and months.’

  ‘No. I’ve asked them not to involve me in any of it. God. Poor Sarah. I mean, what the hell has she done? No one’s ever going to talk to her again.’

  ‘Maybe not such a bad thing. To distance herself from all that weird school politics.’

  ‘Maybe. I’m a bit worried about her though. She’s been so strange since the accident.’ I throw my head in Jack’s direction. ‘I can’t put my finger on it. There’s a distance between us but at the same time she’s trying her best to be supportive. I keep thinking back to before. Whether she wasn’t being herself and I didn’t notice it – I know she’s been cut up over Rosie since last year, but this behaviour, it’s really something else.’

  ‘Well, no one is ever going to get over anything like that, are they? She must still be grieving. Heavily.’

  ‘Maybe. I suppose. She never talks about it though. Seems funny it should hit her now.’

  ‘Not that weird,’ he says. Something odd crosses his expression. A dark look, except I can’t quite make out what it means. ‘Things can hit you way later. Shock and stuff. So I wouldn’t discount it. You know? Sometimes associations trigger old PTSD. That kind of thing.’ The mood changes.

  ‘Anyway,’ I try and lighten the atmosphere. ‘Oh, look, Sarah’s finally replied to my SOS message.’

  ‘What’s she said?’

  ‘Not sure she’s understood my joke. She’s written back saying something about me not worrying. That she is on it.’ I lift up my handset. On what? ‘I don’t know why she’s sounding so calm about it. It’s the kind of thing that would normally make her hyperventilate. The entire school reading an awful message meant for a mate. And what she’s written! I mean, my God.’

  ‘You couldn’t make it up, could you?’ Gav gives a laugh. ‘I wonder how everyone is reacting. I’d be so fucked off if that were me reading that. You heard anything?’

  ‘Well I don’t think they’d be texting me, with Jack and everything. They’d try and keep me out of it. And Ella started a new Christmas fair group, so I’m not privy to what everyone’s been saying. But I’m guessing everyone is going mad.’

  ‘Ella especially, I should think.’

  ‘That’s another thing.’ I pick up Thea and put her over my shoulder. ‘Ella. Sarah keeps going on and on about her. Saying she’s not the person she says she is. She’s got some crazy secret. A love child or something. All this stuff. It’s like Ella’s got a hold over her. I mean, she’s always been obsessed but, I don’t know. I’ve been having to stop Sarah from talking about her.’

  ‘Here, let me.’ Gav takes Thea and I sit down, thinking how strange Sarah’s behaviour actually is. With some distance I can see things much more clearly now.

  ‘Maybe she’s right though, Sarah?’ Gav rubs Thea’s soft hair. ‘Maybe Ella is up to something? I mean, she was totally absent before, wasn’t she? It seems a little strange she’s suddenly so involved in everything.’

  This is one of the things I love about Gav. The fact he’s always onside with people. That he always looks at the other person’s point of view. I’d forgotten how thoughtful he is and what good advice he gives. His calmness rubs off on me.

  ‘Yes, you’re so right,’ I tell him. ‘Thanks. I’ll text Sarah tomorrow. See how she is. It’ll be good when Jack is back to his old self. We can work on getting our friendship back on track, and do all the things we used to do every day.’ I start to feel lighter. Something about the thought of Gav seeing someone else has reduced the pressure on our relationship. I haven’t spoken to someone like this for ages.

  ‘And don’t worry,’ he says. ‘We’ll get to the bottom of Jack. What happened before the fall. And his PTSD. Because that’s what it is.’ He stands up and leans over me, his arms slung around my neck. I hold his forearm and squeeze tight.

  ‘Thank you.’ I feel like I’m about to start crying. ‘Thank you for being so decent.’ Because despite everything, despite him and me separating, it’s still my fault. ‘I’m really trying,’ I tell him. ‘Really I am.’

  ‘I know. Maybe you should speak to Katy? She might help? I know you pooh-pooh that kind of thing but …’

  I think of three days ago. The trip to Marylebone. I want to tell him what I was doing. But I don’t because I can’t let him know it’s got to this state. He’ll never trust me again.

  I keep silent. Just as Gav is about to pull loose from me, the doorbell goes. I look at him, frowning.

  ‘You expecting anyone?’ he s
ays. I shake my head.

  ‘It’s not Sarah or Tom, we have a code. Three fast knocks and two slow. Just so that we know it’s them.’

  ‘Maybe …’ He looks around the room to see if there’s anything that’s not meant to be here.

  I look over to the basement window. I can see a small, rotund man in a green jacket. He’s got his hands in his pockets and his head is bent down so I can’t see his face properly. Just the side profile. He looks a bit like a pale walnut, wrinkles crevassing his cheeks, and his brown hair is combed over, gelled into waves. He looks like he’s wiping mud off his feet.

  ‘Thank God you’re here,’ I tell Gav, as he walks over to the door.

  ‘Don’t worry, he’s probably just trying to sell something.’

  ‘Annoying. On a Sunday.’

  ‘Let’s see.’ He opens the door. ‘Hi mate. You OK?’

  ‘Yes. Hi. My name’s Craig. Any chance I could come in?’

  ‘Come in?’

  ‘Sorry. I should explain.’ Gav looks over at me. For some inexplicable reason my tongue feels swollen in my mouth and I’m struggling to breathe. ‘I’m here to speak to Liza Barnstaple. Is she in? It’s important.’

  ‘Yes. She’s here. And you are?’

  ‘Craig Travers. My colleague Beth actually spoke to you the other day? You said you’d ring her back.’

  ‘Oh.’ I laugh with relief, looking at Gav. ‘Sorry, that’s not me. I didn’t speak to anyone. This must be the wrong address. Now if you don’t mind, we’re very busy.’

  ‘Well, I’m here from …’ I watch as he cranes his neck through the door to look right at me. He clocks Jack on the sofa and Gav’s still holding Thea. He looks around the flat, his eyes scanning the room. It looks like he’s checking for leaks, or something. ‘I’m here from social.’ Both Gav and I look at each other, and then at Jack.

  ‘Social?’ I hear myself give a light, tinkly laugh as I think of tea parties. Meetings. School fundraisers. But I know. Already, I know. Inside, I’m thinking, oh my God. He knows too. He knows what happened all those years ago. How could he, though? It was just me and Gav who knew. There’s not one other solitary person who had found out. Unless Gav has told someone. I think about running at this point. Just grabbing the kids and running. What would I take? My wallet. Keys. The kids. And then I’d run. I look over at Jack. His thin body, prostrate. And then Thea, her cheeks resting on her little shoulders as she shudders in her sleep on Gav’s huge frame. How could he know? What would they do? Take my children away from me? Gav has already told me he’ll always do what’s best for the kids. That he doesn’t care what it comes down to. That their welfare would be number one, no matter how much I begged and pleaded.

  I start to sob, huge gulps coming out of my mouth. They are going to take my children. Or give them to Gav. Oh my God. He must have told Katy. I knew it. I knew there wasn’t something right. It must have been a set-up. All that time, he was setting me up so that he could snatch the kids. Jack’s fall must have triggered something in him. And he must know where I’d been three days ago. Who could have told him that?

  Now, Gav would watch me fall and be ruined. I think about last night. How kind he’d been. Had he been worried I’d cottoned on to his plan? That I’d run? He’d never said anything. Never once said the words out loud about what I’d done. Referred to it only: our secret.

  Craig takes a step forward into the flat. He’s wearing big, black bovver boots that make him look like he’s about to go climbing. I notice they’re as shiny as anything. ‘Like I said, I’m from social services. We’ve had a call.’ Gav and I exchange glances again. ‘I’m here to follow up. I’d like to speak to you, Liza. I’d like to speak to you right this minute. Alone.’

  SARAH

  It’s time to go to The Vale Club and make her statement. Keep Liza safe from any more trouble and upsets. She’d been so shaken up after she’d made the phone call yesterday, she’d gone straight home and passed out on the sofa. But today is a new day. Today is the day for fixing everything. She’s set the wheels in motion and soon Liza and the kids will be safe from Gav. Tom had agreed to look after Casper, and she’s determined to sort things out.

  If she goes quickly, no dawdling, it’ll be easier. No feeling sick when she reels off the words in her head again and again. She thinks about what Ella would do. She would just go right in, the words tripping off her tongue, and never think of it again. Sadly, Sarah’s body is telling a different story. She pats her stomach to silence the perpetual gurgle that has sounded since she left the house.

  Liza, Liza, Liza, she tells herself on repeat. The thought of saving her friend from a terrible fate gives her strength she never knew she had. She clears her throat, alerting the receptionist to her presence, but nothing happens. Is she really that invisible? Sarah stares at the top of the girl’s aubergine-purple-coloured head. She remembers dyeing her own hair that colour when she’d been a teenager.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she barks. ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Oh I am sorry.’ The receptionist looks up, sounding anything but. ‘All our systems are down. Filling everything out by hand at the moment. It’s a disaster. And I’m trying to run this place alone as the other two reception staff have called in sick.’ Sarah wants to both tell her to shut up and apologise for being mean at the same time. She goes with neither.

  ‘Listen. I need to speak to your manager. About the boy’s fall. Jack Barnstaple.’ She looks down the corridor. She can hear the screams of children, and just about make out the brightly coloured soft-play. She grips onto the counter.

  ‘Sure.’ The receptionist sounds flat. ‘I’ll go and get her.’

  By the time the manager returns Sarah’s confidence has begun to diminish. She looks at photographs of Liza on her phone to keep up her will.

  ‘Hello,’ says a tall, pale woman who looks like she’s never seen a treadmill in her life. ‘My name’s Arlene. I understand you’re here to speak to me about the incident the other day.’

  ‘Do you mean the fall? The little boy’s fall?’ Sarah falters. ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’

  They go into a small side room that reminds her of a prison cell. She delivers her lines perfectly. She has no idea what she’d been worried about. All she’d had to do this entire time was think of what that despicable man Gav had been doing to her friend. How it would be dangerous for him to know the real chain of events; she couldn’t give him any more ammunition against Liza. The lies slip off her tongue like fish thrown back into the water.

  ‘I saw him. I waved. I think he saw me. But he was fine. At the bottom of the post.’ And then she remembers the CCTV. Shit. What if she’s caught out? ‘I think he saw me anyway. But what about all your CCTV? Don’t you have the footage?’

  ‘It doesn’t reach that part of the playground.’ Arlene doesn’t look up at her. ‘Thank you,’ she stands, signalling for her to go. ‘For coming to see us. That’s very helpful.’

  ‘Is that it?’ Sarah sidesteps from leg to leg. ‘Can I go?’

  ‘Yes.’ Arlene extends a hand. ‘You can.’

  She’s done it. Now to tell Ella and they can all move on.

  Sarah gets in the car and swings back down to Ella’s house, Chiswick way. She feels lighter all of a sudden. She sneaks a look at herself in the rear-view mirror. Maybe it has taken years off her. When she parks up by Ella’s she can’t see anyone in the house. She steps out, ready to tell Ella that she’s done her part. That the manager had written down her short sentences. She hadn’t spoken too much (she hadn’t learnt nothing from all those real-life-crime series she’d watched on Netflix) and she hadn’t even mentioned Ella’s name. They would never speak of it again.

  Her finger hovers over the bell, and she pushes down to ring. She has no idea what – or even if – she’s going to tell Ella about the information she’s holding about Gav. Please answer, she thinks. Please answer quickly. The previous high levels of adrenaline drop and she feels wobbly. She needs to sit down. She has no idea what’
s brought her here really. The source of all her troubles – and here she is asking her for help and a friendly ear.

  ‘Hi.’ Christian opens the door.

  She peers behind him. ‘Sorry. I need to speak to Ella.’ She presses urgency into her voice. He looks like he’s just been for a run, skin bright, in his exercise gear. His hair golden. She doesn’t for one minute think about introducing herself, or jolting his memory that they’ve met before, but then he offers his hand.

  ‘I remember you from somewhere,’ he says. She brings a hand up to her chest and lets out a laugh that she wants to kick herself for. For God’s sake, she thinks. Pull yourself together. But she can’t help the exhilaration she feels.

  ‘Ah yes, it was NCT,’ she says. He frowns. ‘Years ago?’ she prompts.

  ‘Oh, was it? That’s not what I thought. I’ve seen your face more recently than that, I’m sure of it.’ He gives a laid-back shrug. ‘Anyway, come on in. I’ll get Ella for you. She’s upstairs in the yoga studio. Kids are out at the moment with my mum, so we’ve got some peace and quiet.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Sarah walks in. Everything feels calm and clean in here. Nothing is out of place. A few plastic kids’ toys are out and the newspapers are spread out over the Jasper Conran sofa. There’s a selection of all of the Sundays. Her eyes flicker towards them as she tries to work out which ones have been read. Is Ella more of a Mail reader or a Guardianista? Perhaps a bit of both.

  ‘Els?’ Christian shouts up the stairs. Sarah sits down as he runs up. She prays he won’t sit with them. She tries to pick up YOU magazine but her hands are all sweaty and she doesn’t want to get black ink smudges all over her face. A thousand thoughts are going through her head. How will she explain to Ella she needs to talk to her alone? She has nowhere else to turn. And then she hears a whistling sound. For God’s sake, she’s always happy too, she thinks, whistling a merry tune. Then it stops. Silence. She finds it unnerving. She hasn’t heard Ella coming down the stairs. She starts to stand up but, as she does so, she hears the turnaround of footsteps. And then she sees a scruff of blond hair peering around the doorframe. Christian is back.