The Claw

by Ramsey Campbell

  She'd made it as difficult as possible for Liz to take refuge here last night. Liz was awakening now, and remembering. Gail hadn't looked exactly welcoming when they'd appeared in the foyer, especially when Liz had told her they wanted to stay the night. She'd turned sympathetic, though dubious, when she'd realized how desperate Liz was – sympathetic enough to ask no questions for the time being. But just then Anna had to go and plead for a separate room. One look from Liz had silenced her, but the damage had been done. The child could hardly have made it clearer to Gail that she was terrified to be alone with her mother.

  It was all Liz's fault, of course. What a monster she was, to have saved Anna from the thing that had got into the house! In the bathroom adjoining her hotel room she'd scrubbed her horribly sticky hand in water that was as hot as she could bear, and had felt almost safe. Thank God, she didn't need to think what she'd left prowling her home; she mustn't think about it. She'd escaped, that was all she need remember. Eventually she'd slept, one arm round Anna to make sure she didn't sneak away, though the child had tried to struggle out of her grasp. While she slept she hadn't felt nervous at all.

  But she was nervous now. Anna was making her nervous, watching her as she might have watched a dangerous animal escaping from its cage, shrinking back when Liz came near.

  'Listen to me, young lady,' Liz said, grabbing her arm. 'If you behave like that in public, you'll be very sorry.' She could hear children scampering in the room above; had she been overheard? It didn't matter – she wasn't saying anything that a million other parents wouldn't say. She gave Anna a shake and let her go, and went into the bathroom.

  As soon as she was dressed, she hurried the child downstairs. She wanted to clear up the situation with Gail. She'd had one bad moment in the bathroom, turning sick as something red loomed outside the frosted glass, but it must have been a kite above the cliff. Was she going to be as nervous as this for the rest of their stay? Perhaps it would help if she felt more welcome.

  Gail was in the office behind the desk, typing out the lunch menus. She didn't look encouraging. Liz ignored that. 'Gail, is it all right if we keep that room for a few days? I'll pay you, obviously.'

  Gail frowned at her typing, but not only at her typing. 'That depends how long you mean to stay.'

  'Just until Alan comes home.'

  'Why, is he on his way?'

  'I think so.' That sounded like a he. 'Yes, he is,' Liz said.

  'Oh, I'm so glad. I know it's been hard on you with Alan away, on top of everything else.' She was smiling now – because Liz wouldn't be staying long? 'Will he know you're here?'

  'Yes, I'm sure he will.'

  'Well, then you wait here for him if it'll make you feel better. We'll work something out when you leave. You understand, it can only be for a few days, though.'

  Liz had to be thankful for whatever she could get. She strode outside, feeling reprieved. The sky was so bright that it hurt her eyes, or perhaps they were burning with lack of sleep. The heat clamped on her forehead at once. Yes, the red on the cliff was a kite, and the other glimpse by the pool was a red swimsuit. The snuffling behind her – she turned sharply to peer into the foyer, which was blotchy with after-images – turned out to be a child with hay fever. She closed her eyes to give her vision time to settle down, but she was afraid to close them for long.

  'Is daddy really coming home?' Anna said.

  Liz reached for her through the blotchy orange blindness and squeezed her arm, or tried to; she felt the child stiffen, steel herself for another bruise. 'Yes, he is. That's one reason I was trying to wake you last night,' Liz said. But that reminded her of the other reason. She could tell that Anna didn't believe her, not after the way she'd treated her last night. 'I think you can stay in the nursery,' Liz said.

  Toddlers were playing hide-and-seek in and out of the sand-pit; two little girls were cooking pebbles on a Fisher-Price cooker. The nursery girls came to meet Liz at the gate. 'Are you going to leave Anna?' Maggie said.

  'I was meaning to stay too.' Something in Maggie's voice made Liz tighten inside herself. 'I thought you might need some help.'

  'Thanks very much, but we can manage.'

  'Oh, I see.' So they'd had their instructions, had they? Several parents, some of whom had overheard her row with Alex earlier, were watching her to see what she'd do. Liz opened the gate, and the girls stepped back. 'I'm sure you won't mind if I keep an eye on Anna,' she said, as she pushed by them.

  She dragged one of the canvas sun-beds into the meagre shade of the hedge at the seaward limit of the playground and lay there defiantly, watching. Let them try to move her, by God, and there'd be such a scene! Parents kept glancing at her; so did Anna, as she played morosely on the slide and the largest swing. Trust Anna to let everyone see that she was nervous of her mother! No wonder they were all watching Liz. Perhaps there was another reason: the couple who'd given her the lift last night must have passed the word to the other parents. No wonder they didn't want to trust her with their children. Still, Anna was quite enough for her to cope with.

  Really, she ought to be glad that she was being watched. Surely it meant that nothing could come to her? Out here in the sunlight she was safe from what had been in her house last night. Or was she? If she truly believed in it, mustn't she believe that it had not only been in the pillbox and her house, but on the television screen as well? No -she would rather believe that her glimpses had been caused by her nerves, that the sounds she'd heard in the house had been Anna, after all. Somehow it was easier to believe that now, especially since it was Anna who'd got her into such a state.

  Yet she was still afraid to go home until Alan returned. Surely he must be on his way by now. The red beyond the hedge was a kite, a kite, but still she didn't like its swoops. The glimpse of red through the fence around the pool was the child's swimsuit, but every minute Liz was more on edge. Even the swings troubled her, dark shapes jerking up at the limit of her vision. Thank God the bar would be open soon, then she could leave Anna with the nursery girls; that was what they were here for. Besides, Anna had struck up a conversation with a young girl who'd been swimming in the pool.

  It was almost time for the bar to open when Anna and her new friend headed for the gate. 'Where are you going,

  Anna?' Liz called, and all the parents glanced at her. She couldn't speak to her own child now without being made to feel like a leper.

  'Just up to her room.' There was a hint of a whine in Anna's voice which embarrassed Liz. How could she once have thought so much of her? 'Well, be quick.'

  Five minutes later she heard the rattling as Jimmy raised the grille above the bar. Several parents stood up eagerly. Liz was glad. That meant they wouldn't be out here spying on her when she dealt with Anna for dawdling upstairs, for making her even more nervous. She should never have let the child out of her sight. Now the remaining parents had taken their children into the nursery building for lunch, and Liz was alone. The sunlight and the open landscape seemed suddenly deceptive, isolating her and yet surrounding her with hiding-places. She rose quickly – the red blur that came swooping towards her as if it had been lying in wait was a kite, just a kite – and headed for the bar. It was one way into the hotel. Perhaps Anna might even be in there, talking to Jimmy.

  She was, and she turned guiltily when Liz came in. Did she look so guilty because she thought Liz might have overheard what she'd been saying to Jimmy? Or was it because of the way she was dressed? She'd borrowed her new friend's swimsuit, which displayed her bruises for all to see. 'Go upstairs at once and get dressed,' Liz said.

  'I want to swim.' With so many people to hear, the child was defiant. She dodged out of Liz's reach and marched out through the open windows.

  Liz felt as if everyone in the bar was watching her. They must all know why she wanted to cover up the marks on Anna's body. What did they know about it? More to the point, what could they do? Anna was her child, Liz was the one who had to deal with her. Let them try to stop her if the
y dared.

  She went after her, feeling light on her feet, swift without having to run. Anna was struggling to unlatch the gate to the pool, but Liz would be on her before she could escape. Her nails felt electric, more alive than any other part of her. By the time Anna turned and saw her, it was too late. The way the child's eyes widened made Liz feel grimly pleased, so much so that it took her a few moments to realize that the child was staring beyond her, not at her at all.

  Liz whirled round. Mr Mullen, Joseph's father, had come up silently behind her on the grass. In his red half-cooked stubbly face, his eyes looked like glass. He held her gaze for what seemed minutes before he spoke. 'Yes, that's right,' he said fiercely. Tm watching you. Just remember that.'

  The wire gate slammed at her back. When at last he turned away and she was able to turn, she was just in time to see Anna diving into the pool. The long legs parted as the pale blue water took her, like an obscene gesture at Liz. Liz's fingernails were tingling, her nerves crawling with frustration. Some of the parents had come out to sit at one of the tables on the grass. Anna had escaped for now. Maybe she thought that here at the hotel she was safe from Liz – but the way Liz felt now, it would only make things worse for the child in the end.

  Forty-three

  The fog closed in overnight. It was at the open window when Anna woke next morning, and in her mouth, a horrible taste like being very ill. It made the sheets feel as if she'd wet the bed. She struggled out of them and ran to the bathroom, away from mummy, who was at the dressing-table and watching her in the mirror, watching her as if the mirror was a glassed-in cage. 'Don't close the door,' mummy said, in a voice so cold that it made Anna shiver.

  Anna washed hastily and put on the clothes she'd worn yesterday, the only clothes she had at the hotel. They made her feel grubby, but she dared not say anything to mummy. She was hurrying so that they could go down to breakfast, so that she wouldn't be alone with mummy. She was frightened to be alone with her. She wished someone would take her away until mummy was better, until she turned back into mummy again. She wished as she'd never wished anything else that there was someone she could ask -someone she could tell about mummy. Whatever had happened to daddy was happening to mummy too.

  It wasn't just that she'd dragged Anna out of bed in the middle of the night and into the dark. It wasn't that she'd looked ready to kill her when she'd worn her new friend's swimsuit, so much so that Anna had jumped in the pool to escape. It wasn't even that since then mummy had seemed ready to attack her at any moment, for any reason. These things were only tiny parts of what was happening. Mummy was nobody she knew, that was the horrible truth – she was a stranger who'd taken her place and who hated Anna for no reason. She was worse than daddy had been just before he'd gone away. Anna couldn't help remembering that now. If he really was coining home, that frightened her too.

  Mummy unlocked the door of the room as soon as Anna came out of the bathroom. She didn't say a word, but her look was enough: her eyes said that she'd know everything Anna did, know if Anna said anything to anyone. Had she heard Anna's thoughts? Sometimes in the past, when mummy had been mummy, they'd been able to know what each other was thinking, and perhaps this stranger who looked like mummy could. She'd seemed to know yesterday, when Anna had been struggling to tell Jimmy a little of all that was wrong. All the way downstairs to breakfast Anna felt mummy's gaze on the back of her head, glaring at her thoughts.

  The dining-room was full of children and their parents, having breakfast. Grown-ups said 'Good morning' to mummy as she passed, and all of them watched her. Some were frowning. The waitress looked surprised when she came to their table, but before she could speak, mummy said sharply, 'Mrs Marshall knows we're here.' The kitchen door swung open and shut, open and shut, and Anna saw the waitresses chattering beyond it, gazing towards their table. Mummy saw them too, and Anna felt her growing more tense. They were making her even more dangerous.

  The parents had turned away now. Couldn't they see how frightened Anna was? But no – they were parents; they'd think mummy was right whatever she did – grownups always stuck together like that where children were concerned. Anna stared out of the window; she couldn't bear to look at mummy, but because of the fog there was nothing else to look at. The grass looked like an old worn carpet, faded and ragged; the horizon was pressing against the cliff. The fog made her feel trapped, especially when she heard grown-ups saying that these Norfolk fogs could last for days.

  She didn't feel like eating breakfast. Her hands flinched from the hot plate as she cut her bacon into pieces, smaller and smaller. Eventually she put a piece into her mouth, but it wouldn't go down. When mummy reached over to push the plate closer to her, Anna was afraid she meant to burn her with it. 'Eat up, Anna. You want more than that,' the stranger who was pretending to be mummy said. All the grown-ups must believe she was who she sounded like. They'd trapped Anna even more than the fog had.

  Eventually the waitress cleared away Anna's plateful of cold bacon. The grown-ups were already packing their cars in the hope of driving beyond the fog. The hotel would be empty, and Anna wouldn't even be able to go outside, away from mummy. All at once the hotel seemed very small – another small dark grubby place that was locking her in.

  She brushed her teeth in the bathroom. She would have to play in the hotel. Suddenly she realized what that could mean. Jimmy the barman would play with her, she could talk to him while mummy wasn't there – mummy wouldn't want to watch her play. It made her miserable to think of telling on mummy, but now, seeing her watching her in the mirror, she was too frightened to stay silent. 'Can I go to the games room?' she said.

  'Please may I go to the games room?' Mummy was pretending that she was still mummy, except that correcting her seemed to make her hate Anna even more. As she did her hair she was getting more and more angry with its tangles. Please let her take a few minutes, please let her say that Anna could go down! 'Go on then,' mummy said at last, as if she were glad to get rid of her, 'but don't you dare go out of the hotel.'

  As soon as Anna was out of the room, she began to run. Mummy might hurry after her to keep an eye on her before she had a chance to talk to Jimmy. She ran down two floors and through the foyer, past the goldfish that were swimming round and round as if they couldn't stop. Gail was at the desk, and said, 'Hello, Anna' as though she wanted to talk to her. Should she tell Gail? But Gail was mummy's friend; she couldn't. Even telling Jimmy would be hard enough. She gasped 'Hello' and ran on, to the bar. It was empty.

  For a moment she didn't know what to do. He was the barman – she'd been sure he would be in the bar. She could ask Gail where he was, but now she was frightened to go back into the foyer in case she met mummy coming downstairs, so frightened that cramps started in her stomach. While she still could, she dashed across the foyer into the corridor opposite without speaking to Gail – if she asked her where Jimmy was, Gail would be able to tell mummy that Anna was with him.

  He was in the lounge opposite the games room. She had almost run past the doorway before she saw him in a chair by the window, peering at a newspaper by the foggy light that hung above the shrinking lawn. He didn't look as if he was actually reading. Perhaps he just wanted to be by himself, for his smile at her was quick and dismissive. 'Going out?' he said.

  'Mummy says I have to stay in.'

  'I expect she knows best.' He lowered his head to the newspaper until she couldn't see his face. 'Well, I'll see you around,' he said.

  He didn't understand, he hadn't seen how desperate she was. She was shifting from one foot to the other; she felt as if she was going to wet her pants. She couldn't think what to say about mummy, she couldn't bring herself to say anything – and mummy might come downstairs at any minute. If she got him out of the chair and away from the newspaper, she might be able to tell him. 'Will you play table tennis with me?' she blurted.

  'All right, I'll give you a game later.' He turned a page, but she was sure now he wasn't reading. 'Before I open up.'
/>   She was going to wet herself from fear. She pressed her legs together, bit her lip viciously. 'Will you now?' she pleaded.

  He let the newspaper droop away from him and gazed at her. 'All right,' he said at last, 'if you're that desperate. It isn't as though I've anything better to do.'

  All the same, he peered at the newspaper for a while before he stood up. He must have been trying to read after all. He strolled across to the games room, while she pleaded silently with him to hurry up before mummy found her. She couldn't say anything until they started playing – she didn't know why.

  He took the bats and ball from their cupboard by the snooker table. 'Come on, then,' he said, seeing her hesitating in the doorway.

  In fact she was desperately trying to think what to say. She wished she hadn't asked him to play table tennis now. It had been the first thing she'd thought of to get him out from behind the newspaper, but she was no good at the game. She was struggling to hit the ball when she ought to be telling him about mummy. He was sending her easy ones to hit, he was letting her return ones that didn't bounce on his side of the table, but all she wanted was to get rid of the ball and give herself a chance to talk. She slashed wildly at the ball with the edge of the bat, and the ball bounced under the snooker table.

  She was crawling to retrieve it when she realized this was her chance. She'd start telling him as soon as she stood up; she wouldn't play any more. She scrambled to her feet with the ball in her hand, and then she realized something that made her stomach feel like a stone: she couldn't say anything about mummy. She couldn't even open her mouth.