On My Life

by Angela Clarke

  ‘We do not slam doors – show a little respect. We’ve spoken about this before, young lady.’

  Oh no, another row. I lift my magazine up, as if I can use it as a shield.

  ‘You are so embarrassing!’ Emily cries. They must both be in the hallway. There’s nowhere for me to go without being seen. ‘No one else’s parents stayed for the party.’

  I knew this would happen. No teen girl wants their dad there when they’re with their friends.

  ‘I don’t care what other people’s parents do,’ Robert snaps. ‘I just want to make sure you’re safe.’

  Oh Robert. He lost his wife when Emily was still just a baby, of course he’s over-protective.

  ‘It was Phoebe’s birthday! It was all girls, not a mass orgy! Her mum was there the whole time!’ Emily yells.

  ‘Right. That’s it,’ Robert says. ‘No more car shares with Phoebe this month.’

  ‘You’re joking, right?’ Emily says. ‘Her mum drives!’

  ‘No,’ Robert says. ‘Until you can learn to behave like an adult I will drive you to and from school. I will drive you to swim club, and I will wait until you are done. You will go nowhere without me.’

  Dammit. There go our plans for date night.

  ‘And I’m confiscating your phone,’ he says.

  ‘I hate you!’ Emily screams. I hear her stomp up the stairs, before her bedroom door slams shut, shaking the rafters of the old building.

  I jump as Robert appears in the kitchen, frantically jabbing at her smartphone.

  He still looks gorgeous, even when he’s stressed. ‘Hey?’ I try.

  ‘Hang on,’ he says without looking up. ‘I’m just installing an app on her phone. I want to know where she is at all times.’ He pushes air out of his reddened cheeks.

  Whoah. Spyware? That’s a bit much. She’s just testing her boundaries. ‘You sure that’s the best idea, sweetie?’ I rest a hand gently on his arm.

  His eyes bore into me as he looks up from under his fringe, and I pull my hand away like it burns. ‘I think I know my daughter better than you,’ he says.

  ‘Of course. Right.’ I have to turn so he can’t see I’m hurt. Is it always going to be like this? If he wants me to live with them, he has to take my opinion on board sometimes. It can’t always be him and Emily, and me on the outside. ‘I was just trying to help.’

  I hear him sigh, and put the phone down on the table.

  ‘Sorry,’ he says. The softness back in his voice, as his arms snake round me, and I feel him nuzzle into my neck.

  It’s just going to take time, that’s all. I hug him back. ‘I remember what it was like being a teenage girl, you know?’ Though my challenges were a bit different than smartphones and birthday parties at recording studios.

  ‘Yeah, and I remember what it was like being a teenage boy.’ He runs his hands through his hair, with such a perplexed look I can’t help but laugh. He grins back. ‘How about a cup of tea?’ he says. ‘For us oldies.’

  I switch the kettle on, and see the app uploading symbol on Emily’s phone. She’s a good kid. He just needs to trust her.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you actually,’ Robert says, sifting through the Telegraph for the business section.

  ‘Oh yes?’ I aim to sound flirtatious. We need something to dissipate the tension.

  ‘We should talk about money,’ Robert says, settling himself into a chair.

  Ever since he gave me the key and asked me to move in, this has been the unspoken thing between us. I don’t want to have this conversation while he’s in this mood. I’m dreading telling him what my mortgage is. I’ve always been proud of the two-bed flat I bought on the assisted-buying scheme. First homeowner in my family. Yet it feels silly now, like playing at being a grown-up, compared to here. If I cut back on some things, maybe cycle to work, I could scrape together an extra hundred or so. That could go toward my contribution. I want to live here with him and Emily. I want it to work so much.

  I put the tea down in front of him decisively. ‘Yes, we do. I don’t think I can cover half the mortgage for this place, but perhaps I could cover the bills instead?’

  His eyebrows go up. This is excruciating. But I’m younger than him, and I don’t own my own business. I feel the annoyance rise in me.

  ‘I send home part of my wage to Mum. They keep cutting back her benefits. She’s got herself involved with one of those awful payday loans. The APR was over three hundred per cent. She didn’t think people would rip people off like that. Ness and I only found out when they cut off her electricity.’ It comes out in an angry rush.

  ‘Jenna.’ His voice is all serious, a hint of the same tone he used with Emily. ‘There’s no need to get so worked up. Why didn’t you come to me before?’

  Because I didn’t want to embarrass Mum. Because I don’t ever want her to feel like she’s failing. She fought hard for us when we were younger. To get better, to be there for us. Anger surges in me. ‘You didn’t notice.’

  ‘Well that’s not fair, is it?’ he says.

  ‘No,’ I concede.

  ‘Jenna.’ He reaches for my hand. ‘I don’t expect you to pay me rent. For a start there’s no mortgage on this place, the family own it outright.’

  It takes a second to process the words. But of course there’s no mortgage – this is inherited wealth. I just didn’t think. But I’m not a charity case. ‘I want to be an equal in this relationship.’ I want to be listened to when I try to talk about Emily.

  ‘You are,’ he says. ‘But you’re my girlfriend. How would it look if people found out you were paying to live here?’

  I don’t really see what it has to do with anyone else.

  Robert pushes on. ‘Maybe it’s time to get rid of the flat, to show my parents that you’re committed, fully.’

  Committed? I falter. This conversation is moving quicker than I wanted it to. ‘I don’t want anyone to think I’m some kind of gold-digger.’

  He gives me a slightly strained smile. ‘It’s just not appropriate for you to have another place. I want you here, with me and Emily. Where we can keep an eye on you.’

  Keep an eye on me? He sounds like he’s talking to Emily again. ‘But what will your parents say?’ I know how this looks.

  Robert smiles as if he’s won. ‘Actually, Mother suggested I set you up with a little allowance, so you can get your hair done, and clothes for corporate parties and things.’

  Have I not been wearing the right things so far? I feel myself flush.

  Robert mistakes my embarrassment for relief. He pats my hand. ‘That’s all settled then. I knew you’d see sense.’ He picks up his newspaper again and leans back. ‘I’ll instruct our solicitor to put your flat on the market.’

  Panic suddenly gushes up in me. ‘Don’t do that!’

  He looks up quizzically.

  I scramble to cover it up. ‘I mean, I’ll talk to the agent. You’ve got enough on your plate with work already.’ I’m not sure I want to get rid of it. I’m not sure what I want. Ness might want to rent it or something. Why do I feel like I was just outmanoeuvred?

  ‘Of course, darling,’ he says, looking at the paper. ‘Whatever makes you happy.’ And I realise he sounds just like his father talking to his mother.

  Now

  ‘The papers said you were engaged. You must have known what he was like.’ Erica stares at me with Emily’s eyes.

  I dig my fingers into the chair.

  No.

  I won’t believe it. This woman knows nothing about us. About Robert. He couldn’t have lied about this. She did this. She abandoned them both.

  Erica licks her lips, the dry white flecks greedily sucking up the moisture. ‘He’s dangerous.’

  ‘No.’ I won’t listen to these lies. I turn to signal for Sara or Ryan, I don’t care, I just want out of here. ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘He paid me.’

  I stare at her.

  ‘He paid me money to disappear. To stay away.’ She is massaging the
locket between two fingers. A photo of Emily inside? ‘He threatened me.’

  I think of the newspaper I found discarded in the library. With me and Robert on the front. And the photo of Emily in her school uniform on the inside. The photo I keep under the little bedside unit Kelly and I share. ‘Why would he do that?’

  She looks up, sad, but different. Pitying. ‘I wasn’t suitable.’

  It’s lies. ‘You were her mother.’

  She winces at my use of past tense. ‘I had an accident when Emily was a baby. I was carrying her downstairs – tired – I hadn’t been sleeping. And I slipped. I didn’t want to hurt her.’ Her voice wavers. She takes a breath. ‘I held onto her, so I couldn’t break my fall. My arm broke in three places. My shoulder dislocated. They had to fuse it together with metal.’ She runs her hand over the outside of her arm, as if tracing the join. ‘I was in hospital for weeks and in a lot of pain.’

  What did this have to do with Robert? He would have looked after her – she was his wife. He was – is – kind. Caring. The thought that this woman is mad comes to me. Delusional. She’s blaming Robert for her faking her own death. For her deserting her child. Could she be behind all this? Presumably Robert stashed the spare key in the same place he had when they’d been together? It wasn’t the kind of thing you randomly moved. Or maybe she still had her own key. She could have been inside our house without us knowing. At my laptop. With Emily.

  Erica takes another breath, as if shaking off a memory. ‘I wanted to get home from hospital – to Emily and Robert – as soon as I could. And of course we had private care. I discharged myself before I should have. I can see that now. But I wanted to be with my baby.’ A tear rolls down her cheek and she swipes at it. Is it part of an act? ‘To cope with the pain, the doctor prescribed me strong medication. I needed to take them just to get up, to make food for Emily, to feed her. And . . . well. I became dependent.’ Her hand shakes slightly.

  I watch the tremor. Look again at the way her skin is taut over her skull. How her depleted, fragile frame reminds me not of strong-muscled Emily turning cartwheels, slicing through the pool, but of Mum. Addiction doesn’t care where you’re from. It doesn’t give a fuck what school you went to, or how nice your house is. It can take root anywhere. Shoots spring up. And soon it’s obliterated everything. Would I really have wanted Emily to go through that? To find her mother passed out, covered in her own piss and vomit. To tend the cuts and bruises from the latest man she’d let treat her body like a punch bag in exchange for a high. Ness used to barricade us into her room to keep safe. Would I have wanted her to have my childhood? Smiling, happy, innocent Emily. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Erica nods, a look of resignation on her face. ‘I passed out one day. While I was bathing Emily. Robert was out. And he came home to find her screaming in freezing water and me comatose on the floor.’

  ‘Oh my god.’ I think of the shape of Mum on the sofa. Ness screaming into the phone. The blue flashing lights of the ambulance. Robert must have been terrified. Angry.

  ‘She was okay. But only because I was lucky.’ Her agony at what she did clings to every word. ‘After that I got help.’

  I nod. But it isn’t that easy.

  ‘I went cold turkey. I don’t take anything any more – not even paracetamol.’ She fingers her locket again. It is a talisman. A reminder. Rosary beads for staying clean. ‘I’ve been clean for twelve years. Even now,’ she adds the last words painfully, ‘I feel so guilty.’ She looks up, Emily’s eyes pleading. ‘I hate myself. I was weak. Easy to manipulate.’

  The word cuts through me.

  But Erica can’t stop now. I can see she has to get this out. It’s a confession. An accusation. ‘He used that against me. He threatened to have me sectioned.’ Bile blossoms in my stomach. ‘He told me I would hurt Emily . . .’ She trails off, her fingers fluttering around the locket. ‘Maybe I would have.’

  Robert had always been good about Mum. But then he’d never seen her sick. Never left his baby daughter with her. ‘Robert understood, surely?’

  She smiles sadly. ‘Of course. But it wasn’t him I had to worry about.’

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  Erica isn’t telling me Robert had done this – how could I even think that? How could I have doubted the man I love? How could I even begin to think he would be capable of this? Guilt hangs around me like spice smoke. ‘Erica, who threatened you? Who paid you to disappear?’

  Erica looks up with Emily’s eyes. She drops the locket, as if she doesn’t want to taint it with the name. And I know what she’s going to say. Who she’s going to say. My darkest fear. The man who has taken one baby from its mother, and who now wants to take mine.

  ‘David. David did this.’

  ‘You have to go to the police – you have to tell them what he’s like.’ I reach for her hand, desperate.

  She lurches backwards. Fear in her eyes. Shakes her head.

  ‘He’s going to do it again.’ I have to make her understand. ‘He’s going to take my baby.’

  ‘I can’t,’ she says.

  ‘You can, you have to. You know what he’s like. You know what he’s capable of!’ Is she? Does she? I search her face for any sign. ‘I think he might be involved in this . . . in what happened to Emily.’

  ‘No,’ she says, shaking her head vehemently. Tears flying out. ‘No. He wouldn’t. Robert would’ve protected her.’

  ‘But don’t you see: Robert is missing. He was hurt. There was blood.’ I force myself to confront this. ‘Did Robert know? Does Robert think you’re dead?’

  She blinks rapidly. As if the smoke is in her eyes. Her guilt fogging her sight. The truth floating just in front of her.

  ‘Robert knows I’m alive.’

  Then

  Laughter greets me as I carry in more crisps. A slight wobble in my walk, the wine’s hit me harder than I thought. Ness and Robert are by the fire, gripping glasses of red. Robert in his cable-knit jumper, Ness in my cashmere cardi. It’s such a relief to see him relaxed after the last few weeks. He’s been stressed about Emily, work. I just want him to be as happy as he’s made me.

  Right on cue Robert’s phone rings, and his face falls.

  ‘Dad,’ he says, getting up. ‘I’ll call him back from my study.’

  ‘Take your drink,’ Ness says. ‘Sounds like you might need it!’

  ‘Wise lady, this one.’ He winks at me, and picks up the glass.

  ‘Salt and vinegar or cheese and onion.’ I offer the crisps to Ness. Not quite the same standards as Judith’s artful presentation, but I’m learning.

  She takes a handful of each and looks at the grand piano. ‘I love this room.’

  ‘Me too,’ I say, pulling my blanket over my knees. I could just go to sleep right here, right now in front of the fire. I still can’t believe this beautiful building is home. ‘It’s so cosy.’

  ‘It’s like something out of a posh hotel.’ She sips her drink. ‘You’re a lucky girl, Jenna.’

  I smile, then I think of Judith and David and it falters.

  ‘What is it?’ Ness says. ‘Trouble in paradise?’

  I check Robert closed the door on his way out. I probably shouldn’t say anything, but it’s Ness. It doesn’t count. ‘Nothing like that. I just don’t want to let him down, you know?’

  Ness reaches for the bottle to top us up. I forget to say I’m not drinking red. ‘What do you mean? Nothing’s happened, has it?’

  I consider telling her about David and Judith and the real reason we’ve postponed the wedding to June. But I don’t want her to think less of Robert. He’s trying so hard to please them. ‘No, nothing’s happened. It’s just – this place, Emily, the business, his parents – I feel a bit out of my depth sometimes. I’m probably just tired.’ I haven’t been getting much sleep.

  ‘Pfft,’ Ness says. ‘Looks like you’re doing great to me.’ She crunches a crisp. ‘You’ve always smashed everything you’ve done. You know that.’

>   I squeeze her knee. ‘That’s ’cause I learnt from the best. I just . . .’ I think of the photo of Robert’s first wife in its polished frame. How he won’t talk about her, because it still hurts. I can see he will always love her. ‘I just want to get it right for him, you know? I want everything to be perfect. Robert and Emily have had it hard in the past. And they deserve everything to be perfect. Me to be perfect.’ I really have had too much to drink.

  ‘You already are Miss Perfect,’ Ness says. And throws a crisp at me.

  I catch it and laugh. The vinegar bitter on my tongue, reviving me.

  ‘That why me and Mum haven’t seen you so much recently?’ Ness says, suddenly serious. ‘’Cause you’re here playing happy families.’

  I’ve been busy with the wedding and Robert’s work commitments sure, but it’s not been that bad, has it? I did cancel our last lunch when Robert needed me to take Emily to band practice. Maybe it has been a while. The time just goes so fast. ‘Sorry,’ I say guiltily. ‘Robert’s been very busy at work, but things will be better once the wedding’s out the way.’ I squash the feeling I shouldn’t be thinking of the happiest day of my life as something to get off the list. All brides feel overwhelmed.

  ‘Right,’ Ness says, curtly.

  I throw my arms round her. ‘Please don’t be cross with me.’ Not you as well.

  ‘All right, all right,’ she says. ‘Just as long as you’ve still got time for your sister when you’re a fancy married lady.’

  ‘Promise,’ I say. I rest my head on her shoulder. She strokes my hair like she did when I was little.

  The door opens. ‘I need more wine,’ Robert says, his own hair ruffled from where he’s been tugging at it.

  ‘You okay, darling?’ I pour the bottle for him. Can’t David leave him alone for one evening? It’s gone ten, for god’s sake.

  ‘Fine. Fine,’ he says. Then shakes his head. ‘He was supposed to have retired last year. I’m ready. I’ve proved myself. But it’s never going to be enough.’

  I freeze, Robert’s obviously had too much too. He very rarely says anything negative about David.

  ‘Shots?’ Ness says, breaking the awkward silence.