‘So I am right?’
Her daughter had continued to laugh, but very quickly she was gulping for air as she fought and failed to hold back the sobs. Terrified, Nina wrapped Scarlett in her arms and let her cry on her shoulder. She patted Scarlett’s back to match the pace of her own heart thumping inside her chest. ‘Oh, Scarlett. Please tell me what’s going on.’
‘I – don’t – know – what – to – do.’
‘About what? What’s happened?’
‘Nothing, nothing’s happened and I don’t know if it ever will.’
‘But you want it to?’
Scarlett nodded. ‘I think so.’
‘You think? That doesn’t sound so definite to me. You’re fifteen years old, Scarlett. You might feel like you’re all grown up, and I’m not saying you’re not maturing faster than I’d like, but you’re not there yet.’
‘But I want to be, Mum. I want this bit to be over. I want to be middle-aged with a boring job and a family.’
It was Nina’s turn to laugh. ‘It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.’
‘Neither is being fifteen.’
‘I know. But I can’t go back in time, and you can’t fast forward. We are where we are.’
Scarlett hadn’t finished crying, but she managed to control her sobs enough to lift her head from her mum’s shoulder. ‘I’m scared, Mum. I don’t know what to do.’
‘If this boy respects you, then he’ll see you’re unsure and he’ll wait. Who are we talking about anyway? Is it Linus?’
Turning back to face the front, Scarlett put her hands over her face. ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘Do we need to make an appointment with the GP?’ Nina asked.
Using the cuff of her jumper, Scarlett wiped away her tears. ‘No, it’s all right.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes.’
Nina hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath until she released it. She should have felt relieved, but she didn’t. Sorting out contraception was only ever going to be part of the solution. ‘OK, I’m trusting you to do the right thing, Scarlett, but whatever happens, you can’t let it affect your schoolwork. It’s an important year.’
‘Don’t I know it.’
‘No more going out with your friends until you’ve got your grades back up where they belong.’
‘You can’t do that! I’ll turn into a weirdo like Liam if I never go out,’ Scarlett said, not afraid to face her mum now. ‘And what about the party?’
‘Let’s see how we get on with Mr Swift first, shall we?’
‘Fine, as long as you know what you’re doing,’ Scarlett said with a hint of a warning. ‘Don’t blame me if I go crazy.’
In truth, Nina didn’t know what she was doing. She was attempting to navigate through a perilous period of parenthood without a road map. She didn’t know how to solve Scarlett’s problems and help her towards the next stage of her life, all she could do was let her know she didn’t have to do it on her own. She had a mum who loved her; a stepdad who would do anything for her; and a brother who would protect her if he knew what was good for him; not to mention Mr Swift, who would help her daughter get back on track, academically at least.
Scarlett
I was starting to feel weird around my friends. It was like I was out of sync with everyone. I tried to carry on as normal, but it was hard pretending not to have all these horrible feelings messing with my head.
Me and my friends spent most of our time hanging out in Eva’s garage. We’d made it really nice in there with a couple of old sofas and big fleecy throws so it was all cosy. Sometimes it was just us girls, but mostly it was the boys too – and when I say boys, I mean boys. Everyone was getting excited about the Halloween party Eva was planning for her sixteenth, and I wanted to get excited about it too, but part of me didn’t want to be around them any more. It was when I complained that the boys in our year were all lame that Eva came up with this stupid idea about inviting people from sixth form. If Liam was anything to go by, sixth formers weren’t exactly mature either.
It had really got to me that he had called me a little girl. It was so annoying because I didn’t want him to see me that way. That’s why I went on the pill.
It was so horrible when Mum tried to talk to me about it. Like I was going to tell her I’d already been to the doctor. And, oh my God, it was so disgusting when she just assumed I was thinking of going with Linus. As if! OK, we’d hung out together over the summer and we’d snogged a bit, but I never once said I was his girlfriend. It makes me cringe, thinking about all that fumbling around we did. I wanted something else. I wanted someone else and going on the pill was me being mature. I was getting prepared. I wanted to show him I wasn’t a silly little girl.
I should say now, in my defence, that I still wasn’t sure I’d actually do it, even if he wanted me to. Mum had said she trusted me and, for a split second, I honestly thought she did, but in the next breath she was having a rant about my schoolwork, which only proved she didn’t really.
It was so unfair because I was keeping up at school. I’m not totally irresponsible. Maybe I could have focused more, but if Mum thought forcing me to stay at home and take on extra lessons was going to solve my problems, well, it turns out that was so the wrong thing to do. Everyone was trying to fix things and it was laughable. They didn’t have a clue what was going on, none of them did, not Mum, not my friends and definitely not Mrs Anwar, who invited herself along to the meeting with Mr Swift.
‘Do you know why we’ve asked your mum to come in, Scarlett?’ Mrs Anwar said.
I was tempted to make some smart remark, but I bit my tongue and shrugged. She was sitting on one side of the table next to Mr Swift, while me and Mum sat on the other. It was a wonder my chair wasn’t smaller than everyone else’s so they could all look down on me. It was actually funny because I was taller than Mum and Mrs Anwar, and it was only Mr Swift who was on my level.
Mrs Anwar shuffled through a pile of papers in front of her and turned a couple around so Mum could read them. I didn’t need to, the sheets were covered in my writing with comments from teachers in red ink.
I still didn’t get what all the fuss was about and said, ‘I got a B for that one.’
‘And a C for the other one,’ Mr Swift said. ‘And for some of our students that would be a pretty decent result, but not for you, Scarlett.’ He dug out another test paper further down in the pile. ‘This is the kind of result you were getting last year.’
Mum leant forward to read the grade. ‘An A-star.’
‘And there are plenty more where that came from,’ he said. ‘Just not this year.’
‘I’ve only been back five minutes,’ I said. ‘I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal of it.’
‘Don’t you?’ Mr Swift asked.
I held his gaze so he knew I wasn’t a pushover, and then I bit my lip just to make him feel uncomfortable. It might have worked if he hadn’t turned to look at Mum.
‘We might only be halfway through the first term, Mrs Thomas, but soon there’ll be no new learning as we switch focus to revision and mock exams, and after that it’s the real thing. There’s only a small window of opportunity to get Scarlett back on track.’
‘What do we need to do?’
‘We can draw up a revision plan together,’ Mrs Anwar said. ‘It will help Scarlett organize her time better, as well as giving you an idea of the amount of effort she should be putting in.’ She turned to give me a smile. ‘We’re not suggesting you’re in trouble, Scarlett – far from it. You’re one of our best students and we want you to get the most out of the next few months so that you achieve the results we all agree you deserve.’
‘Thank you,’ Mum said, when I just sat there gritting my teeth.
‘As well as the revision plan,’ Mrs Anwar continued, ‘Mr Swift has offered to give you extra support. That could simply be checking with you regularly to make sure you’re keeping to the plan, but
if you’re stuck on a particular subject, he can arrange for you to get support from specific teachers. He’s also kindly offered to give you extra revision sessions after class so you can continue to prepare for your exams in a school environment.’
‘Does that sound OK to you, Scarlett?’ Mr Swift asked. He was the only one to notice that I hadn’t actually agreed to anything yet. ‘If we can get started straight away, you’ll have a schedule to work to over half-term.’
I was still playing it cool and shrugged.
‘Great, that’s exactly what I like to see,’ Mr Swift said, rubbing his hands together, ‘a student who’s raring to go.’
‘We can only make suggestions, Scarlett,’ Mrs Anwar said. ‘It’s you who has to knuckle down and do the work.’
‘So?’ Mum asked me.
‘Can I think about it?’
Mrs Anwar looked as if she were about to explode, but Mr Swift played me at my own game. ‘Yes, of course you can, Scarlett,’ he said. ‘For all of fifteen seconds and then you’re on your own.’
‘And the longer it takes for you to get this sorted,’ Mum added, ‘the longer you’ll be grounded. It would be a shame if you missed Eva’s birthday party.’
‘OK, fine!’ I said and glared at Mr Swift when I added, ‘I’ll do anything you want!’
There was a sigh from Mum. ‘I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for,’ she told him.
In a funny sort of way, I was up for the challenge. I’d started playing men at their own game. I’d had enough of feeling uncomfortable about the way they all looked at me. I hadn’t realized that if I returned that look I could turn them into quivering wrecks. That way I could have them eating out of my hand. All of them.
7
The Accusations
When Freya came into their bedroom in the early hours of the morning, Vikki didn’t complain for once. She didn’t want to lie in bed pretending to be asleep while her husband lay next to her doing the same, but as she went to pull back the covers, Rob jumped up.
‘It’s all right,’ he said, ‘I’ll see to her.’
Freya had climbed on to the bed and kissed Vikki’s cheek. ‘Me watch Peppa Pig with Daddy. You go sleep now, Mummy.’
Vikki closed her eyes, but the moment she heard Rob and Freya reach the bottom of the stairs, she let out a sob and had to press the back of her hand against her mouth. What had got into her? What was she so afraid of?
Ignoring her daughter’s instructions, Vikki sat up and rubbed angrily at the tears she didn’t want to fall. After everything they had been through recently, they were meant to be rebuilding their lives. Why couldn’t she do that instead of looking for faultlines? She had the best family, the best husband she could hope for. Why did she suddenly doubt everything? Did she really think there was a problem between her and Rob, or was she imagining it? It had been tough on both of them when she had spent so much time with her mum, but that had only made them appreciate each other more. Hadn’t it made them stronger? It had definitely made Vikki stronger.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Vikki attempted to pull her life into focus, but her eyes settled on Rob’s mobile phone on the bedside cabinet. She reached for it without hesitation and quickly tapped out four digits before she had a chance to stop herself. She half expected Rob’s old passcode to be rejected. It wasn’t, and a second later the screen lit up.
Vikki had never checked Rob’s phone before, or at least not without his knowledge. She had answered it often enough when he was driving, and occasionally had a sneaky peek at his messages, commenting on how often Mrs Anwar contacted him and suggesting the Head of School had a crush on him. But Rob deserved her complete faith and she hated herself for what she was doing. She hated herself more when she skimmed through a list of messages that revealed absolutely nothing to justify her doubts. Rob appeared to be more popular with PPI firms and mobile phone providers than he was with real people. A couple of teachers had been in touch and there were a handful of messages from pupils he had given his number to, kids who had needed extra support during the year, but none of these made her stomach lurch; none had been from Scarlett.
A creak on the stairs gave her a start and she almost dropped the phone as she closed it down and put it back where Rob had left it. By the time he came into the bedroom, she was curled up in bed with her eyes tightly closed.
She heard him pick up his phone before whispering, ‘I’m making a cuppa if you want one?’
It was a gesture of kindness that Vikki didn’t deserve and tears threatened again. Rather than look at him, she buried her head in her pillow to wipe her eyes. ‘I’m going to grab a shower first,’ she said, pulling herself up and managing to avoid eye contact.
Rob was more interested in his phone than his wife’s odd behaviour and said, ‘OK, see you in a bit.’
Vikki turned towards Rob and watched him disappear out of the room. There had been a time when she would have felt a physical ache whenever they were apart, and she knew Rob had felt the same. She didn’t feel it now; in fact, she was looking forward to time on her own once Rob had set off for work. Was that just growing up and growing used to someone, or was this the problem she had been searching for? When was the last time Rob had ached for her, and what had he done when she hadn’t been there to satisfy his needs?
8
Before
Sunday, 18 October 2015
Vikki linked arms with Rob as he pushed Freya’s buggy along a winding country road. She liked the feeling of completeness it gave her. ‘I’ve missed this,’ she said, and was surprised to hear a catch in her voice. She had been staying at her mum’s for the best part of a month and while she and Rob had tried to see each other every day, sometimes that hadn’t been possible for one reason or another. Weekends were easier and she intended to keep Rob with her for as much of this Sunday as she could.
‘It’s not like we were ever in the habit of going for country walks,’ Rob replied.
‘You know what I mean. I’ve missed this,’ she said, giving his arm a squeeze. ‘I’ve missed doing stuff together. I’ve even missed having you looking over my shoulder to check what I’m buying when we go food shopping.’
‘Is that all you’ve missed?’
She squeezed his arm again. ‘Of course not.’
‘No, I didn’t think so,’ Rob said and gave a soft chuckle. ‘If only Mrs Anwar knew what we get up to when I sneak off for an early lunch.’
Rob had continued to refuse to stay over at her mum’s, and their sex life might have suffered if it wasn’t for their furtive meetings during the day while Freya was at nursery. ‘It won’t be for ever,’ she said.
‘I know and, if I’m honest, I quite like our little trysts. It reminds me of the old days.’
She smiled at the memories Rob was evoking. When they had first started dating, they had enjoyed a certain thrill in meeting up in secret. ‘Shall we do it again? How about tomorrow?’
‘It’s a date,’ he said.
They had strayed down one of the narrow lanes that criss-crossed the countryside around her mum’s house, not giving much thought to which direction they were going, or so it seemed.
‘We can’t be too far from the old Ellison House,’ she said.
Rob kissed the top of her head. ‘Shall we see if we can find it?’
Vikki was too young to remember the last time the Ellison House had been open to the public. An entrepreneur had taken it over in the nineties with the intention of transforming it into an adventure playground, but he had run out of money before it had a chance to take off. Rob had fond memories of the place and had taken Vikki to show her the tree where he had fallen off a rope swing and broken his leg. The site had been cleared by that point and the house boarded up, and so they had come up with some adventures of their own making.
The bridle path Rob was convinced led to the house wasn’t one in regular use and even if they weren’t pushing a buggy, Vikki and Rob would have struggled to make their way through
overgrown bracken and layers of crisp autumn leaves that hid a slimy rotten layer beneath.
‘This is too hard and I’m getting blisters,’ Vikki complained. ‘Can we go back, please? I think Freya’s about to drop off anyway.’
Freya had been walking with them at first, insisting she was a big girl now and didn’t need her pushchair, but as Rob had predicted, her short legs had grown tired. She was sitting happily enough in the buggy and they hadn’t heard a peep out of her for the last five minutes.
‘I suppose,’ Rob said, taking one last look to see if he could spy the memories he wasn’t quite ready to release. He was about to turn the buggy around when he stopped and did a double take. ‘Hold on, isn’t that a chimney stack?’
They persevered down the path a while longer and found themselves on the outer edges of the long-abandoned park. There were signs of what had once been a clearing in front of the old house, although the tender saplings Vikki recalled from earlier visits had become more established.
‘Fancy taking a closer look?’ Rob asked as he glanced back to make sure she was following.
By the time they reached the dilapidated driveway of the old Victorian house, Freya was fast asleep. They left her buggy close to the wire-mesh fencing panels that guarded the perimeter of the abandoned house before squeezing between two sections so they could take a closer look. The metal shutters on the doors and windows were corroded but intact, and prevented unwelcome visitors from getting any further.
‘It hasn’t changed, has it?’ Vikki said.
Rob slipped his arms around Vikki’s waist. ‘Ah, but have you?’
In the next moment, he had her pressed up against a nearby wall beneath a rambling wisteria. When they kissed, she felt herself falling back in time. ‘Rob, we can’t,’ she whispered.
‘That’s not what you used to say,’ Rob said and kissed her again.
‘We didn’t have Freya with us then. What if she wakes up and sees us?’ she said when she could draw breath.
Rob’s movements slowed as he began unzipping her padded coat. ‘Does that mean you want me to stop?’
The Affair Page 6
