by Rona Halsall
She gravitated towards Mali and her crew, as Mali liked to call them. And in the end, it was Mali who changed her life.
It happened on Harry’s first birthday. She woke up feeling hollow and dejected, a soggy mess of sadness, overwhelmed by the fact that she was missing this major milestone in her son’s life. Lethargic and cold, she stayed huddled in bed while Linda and Mel went down for breakfast. As soon as she was alone, she got out her writing pad and pen, sure that talking to Harry through a letter was the only thing that would make her feel better.
Happy birthday, Munchkin!
One year old today and you have to celebrate without Mummy, but I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time. I bet you have a big cake, with a number one candle on it. Can you blow it out? I think you can. And I think you can clap your hands as well now, can’t you? It will be so much fun, opening your presents. All that paper to tear and scrunch and boxes to explore and Granny and Grandad will have bought you lots of wonderful things.
I hope you like the CD I sent you. The Very Hungry Caterpillar is such a lovely story and I know you have the book at home, so I hope someone will look at that with you.
I’m sorry that I can’t be with you, but it’s not because I don’t love you. In fact, my present to you is eternal love. How about that? A love that will never end, one that grows stronger every day and keeps you safe and well because love is a magical thing. Did you know that? My love for you can’t be kept in prison, it can’t be locked up. What a silly idea! My love can flow through walls, across the sky and zoom straight into your heart, little munchkin. But the best bit is, because you are the only person on this earth that I love, you get to have it all. Imagine that? All that magical power, just for you.
Even though I can’t be there I want you to remember me, Harry. Don’t ever forget that you have a mummy.
The pen dropped from Natalie’s hand when she saw her worst fear written down on paper and she stumbled out of bed, throwing the writing pad into her locker. Of course he’ll remember, she told herself, Dr Patel said so, didn’t she?
‘You mustn’t worry about that, Natalie,’ Dr Patel had said during one of their counselling sessions. She’d rubbed Natalie’s arm. ‘It only takes a few months for a toddler to accept a mother back into his life and in a short time, he’ll forget there was a period when you weren’t there.’ She’d smiled at her and Natalie had wiped the tears from her face. ‘Children are very adaptable. You’ll see. Ask the other mothers here. They’ll tell you.’
So, she had, and it seemed that Dr Patel was right. She reminded herself of this now, made herself get dressed and get on with her day. She couldn’t give up, couldn’t wallow in self-pity. That won’t make me a good mother, will it?
‘Come on, Nat,’ Mali said after breakfast. ‘Why don’t you come to the gym with us? It’s fun, isn’t it, girls? You’ll enjoy it.’
The other girls sharing the table looked at each other, then burst out laughing.
‘Yeah, right,’ Chelsea said, a chubby young woman, with long red hair and terrible skin. ‘But it beats doing nothing.’
‘That’s the point,’ Mali said, dragging at Natalie’s arm. ‘Stops you moping. And it makes you feel better.’ She checked the clock on the wall and stood up. ‘Time to go, girls.’ She pulled at Natalie’s arm again. ‘At least give it a try. Come on,’ she wheedled, ‘just the once.’
Natalie pulled a face. She’d had a peep in the gym a few weeks ago, had seen a room full of sweaty, red-faced women doing things she knew her body couldn’t do and had gone straight back out again, afraid to make a fool of herself. But she was slimmer now, had lost a stone or so while she was coming off the drugs. Maybe it was time to tone herself up.
‘Oh, alright. If it stops you going on at me, I’ll come with you.’
And that was the start of something quite unexpected.
She found out that she actually enjoyed exercise. The fact that it was a surprise had a lot to do with her PE teacher, who she’d hated with a passion and had managed to avoid for much of her time in school, persuading Sasha to skip her lessons and accompany her instead on illicit trips into town to try on make-up and perfume.
Once Natalie had done aerobics and Zumba, yoga and spin classes, she knew that her life had changed forever. She had something to look forward to, something that occupied her mind and distracted her from her worries. In the gym, she could imagine that she was anywhere in the world. It didn’t feel like she was in prison. In her daydreams, Harry was in a crèche, in a nearby room while she worked out. She could imagine that she was a normal mother, having a little time out for herself. Her body shape started to change and with some element of self-respect restored, a virtuous circle had begun.
A few months after her exercise regime started, Mali stopped in the entrance to the gym and pointed at the wall. ‘Hey, have you seen this? We could get a qualification.’ She looked at Natalie, eyes gleaming. ‘What do you think? Personal trainers!’
Natalie studied the notice and grinned at Mali. Personal trainer. It had a nice ring to it, it really did. And wouldn’t it be the perfect job for her? She bumped Mali’s outstretched fist and a plan was born. A future in the making and a chance that she could come out of this experience, not just in one piece, but with something exciting ahead of her. A new career that would make a life with Harry possible.
She wasn’t to know that it would lead her to the worst day of her life, a day that would scar her forever and put her son’s life in danger.
Thirty-Five
Now
So now I need to see if I can work out exactly where she’s hiding. Mind you, it might be better to wait in the car park, then when she takes off I’ll be right behind her.
Hmm.
The problem is, she knows my car now. That was stupid to tail her so close. But I couldn’t resist. I could see the panic in her eyes when she looked in her rear-view mirror and realised she was being followed. It was worth it just for that.
What to do? I don’t know. It’s hard to be here doing nothing.
The thing is, I need to get her somewhere quiet. Which won’t be a problem. So many secluded spots to choose from. And then… and then.
I haven’t quite decided.
It would be so easy to make her disappear. Then all my worries would be gone with her. It’s tempting. I mean, who would even know? Who would miss her? Nobody. That’s who. Fucking nobody.
Thirty-Six
Now
When Natalie finishes speaking, her life story laid out on the table between them, Mary tuts and shakes her head. ‘That’s a sorry tale you’ve got there.’ She fixes Natalie with a beady-eyed frown and leans forwards a little, hands on the table. ‘But I know you’re not telling me everything.’
‘But I have, Mary. I have told you everything.’ Natalie feels like she’s back in school, in the headmistress’s office, and looks down at her hands, clasped in her lap.
‘No,’ Mary says, firmly. ‘No, you haven’t. I brought up five girls, lovey. I know all about half-truths and things not said.’
Natalie bites her lip to stop the missing bits from coming out. It would be so easy, a relief even, to tell her. The words push their way up her throat, but there’s no doubt that telling the truth would destroy this slim chance she has of persuading Mary to let her go without a fuss. There is no way she’s going to hurt this woman, but if it’s a choice between her and Harry… She swallows what she wants to say and tries something else.
‘What I didn’t tell you is… I jumped parole.’
Mary gives a derisive snort and shakes her head. ‘I’m sorry but that’s not it, is it? You jumping parole is flippin’ obvious. There’s something else.’ She wags a finger at Natalie. ‘Look, I might be old, but I’m not daft. I’ve read detective stories. Loads of them. I know the signs to look out for when someone’s lying. The body language, the direction of the eyes.’ She flaps a hand. ‘All that stuff and…’ She gives a sigh. ‘Look, it’s not that I don’t believe you
r story, because I do. So far. But I’m wondering if the bit you haven’t told me is the bit I really need to know.’
Natalie keeps her eyes on Mary while her mind starts inventing. ‘Okay. Okay, you’re right.’ Her hands twist under the table. ‘There is more. My ex-husband knows I’m here. I think he’s been following me. I was running away from him in Douglas. That’s what I was doing. But I didn’t knock over the buggy. He must have made up a story about me being a shoplifter, so that guy would chase after me and the police would be looking for me.’ She leans forwards and grasps Mary’s hand. ‘I’m… I’m frightened of him. What he might do.’
In her mind, she substitutes Lech’s name for ‘my husband’ in the hope that she’ll foil the lie test. And anyway, it’s not that far off the truth, is it? It might have been Tom in the silver estate, following her. It’s a theory that can’t be discounted.
Mary’s gaze softens. ‘See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’
‘I just want to see my son, Mary.’ Natalie’s voice wobbles, then her bottom lip joins in. ‘Surely there’s nothing wrong with that?’
Mary sighs. ‘No, lovey. I don’t suppose there is.’ She tuts. ‘What a mess. What a terrible mess.’
‘I know. I know.’ Natalie leans back in her chair and drops her eyes, which are aching with the effort of staying still. She picks at her fingernails, listening to the silence. Waiting for Mary’s verdict.
‘Do you think you could keep this quiet, Mary?’ Natalie’s voice is hardly audible, as though the whispers in her head have sneaked out on their own. ‘Let me have Harry’s address and I promise you… I honestly promise that once I’ve seen him, I will contact the police, hand myself in and take whatever consequences there might be.’
Her body feels limp. Have I done enough? She risks a glance at Mary and catches her wiping a tear from her eye. Her hopes lift themselves off the floor and her hands wrap themselves tighter. She waits. Mary fidgets with her napkin, then puts it on the table and looks at Natalie.
‘Okay. This is what we’ll do.’ Mary takes a folded piece of paper out of her apron pocket, opens it out and pushes it across the table. ‘We’re going to have to compromise. I’ve got my conscience to live with, you see, not to mention my neighbours.’ Natalie holds her breath and stares at the paper, her heart jiving with joy. She can’t quite believe it. Harry’s address! Nearly there, nearly there. ‘I’m going to let you have until… let’s say eight o’clock this evening. Then, if you haven’t rung to tell me you’ve done what you said… then I’m going to have to tell the police what I know.’
Natalie pulls the piece of paper towards her, lightheaded with excitement. She glances at the address and her eyes widen. Peel. Not far then. Her heart pumps faster. Eight o’clock. Just over six hours. Not very long. But… the sooner the better, given that Lech is out there somewhere, hunting her down and Tom may already know that she’s close.
‘Thank you, Mary,’ she says as she folds the piece of paper, clutching it in her fist. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘That’s alright. You deserve a break after what you’ve been through. But I’m going to have to ask you to leave my house.’ Mary reaches across the table and puts her hand on Natalie’s arm. ‘Not that I want to, you understand. But it wouldn’t look right if I let you stay tonight. There’d be talk. I could be an accessory to… something.’
Natalie nods and runs her tongue round dry lips. ‘Okay, okay, no problem. I just need to tidy myself up, then I’ll be off.’
‘Well, I’m going out in a bit. And will be out until later this evening, after eight sometime, I expect.’ Mary winks. ‘I’ve remembered that I was going to visit my daughter up in Ramsey, you see.’
Natalie gives her a slow smile. ‘I can’t thank you enough, Mary.’
‘You’re welcome. Just make the most of the time you have and don’t… well, you just take care.’
Natalie pushes her chair back and gives Mary a sudden, fierce hug before running up the stairs.
Six hours.
Not long at all. Then it dawns on her. A new problem. The boat won’t be here until tomorrow and now she can’t stay with Mary, where’s she going to go with Harry until she can escape off the island? Sasha. Now she really needs her help.
In her room, she grabs her phone and calls Sasha again, pacing the floor as it rings, then goes to voicemail. Dammit! Her fists clench as she waits for the beep and leaves another message.
‘Sash, it’s me again.’ Her voice rushes on, like a river in flood. ‘Ring me, please. Look, there’s been a new development. I’ve only got six hours to get to Harry. I’ll explain later. But just… Please. Ring. Me.’
Okay.
She starts to change her clothes, deciding that she’ll just go. Now. No point waiting for Sasha, or the palaver of a new disguise. In a few minutes, I could see Harry. Just a few minutes.
Mary’s words scuttle into her mind, and make her freeze for a moment. The police are looking for a long-haired blonde woman. An alert has been put out. She turns and looks in the mirror, shocked again by her reflection. If she’s going to have any chance of foiling Lech or Tom or the police, or the public for that matter, a new disguise is essential. Her jaw tightens and she chews on her frustration, swallows it down and knows that she has no alternative. Short and brunette it is then. Quick.
She sits in front of the mirror, digs in her make-up bag for her nail scissors, then grabs a clump of hair and cuts it off. Then another. And another until she’s engrossed in a frenzy of snipping, hair falling around her feet like autumn leaves. In films, people on the run cut their own hair and it looks just fine, but when you’re doing it yourself, everything’s back to front in the mirror, the angles all wrong. Heat percolates through her body, rising up her neck as she struggles to make good her mistakes, trying to remember what she learned on her course. Seconds turn into frantic minutes and half an hour later, her hair is much shorter than she was aiming for. A variation on an elfin crop is the only option and actually, once she’s finished, it doesn’t look too bad. Except for the tacky blonde colouring.
It’ll look better when it’s washed she tells herself, turning her head this way and that to inspect the damage. And anyway, now it’s short, it won’t take long to colour. She pulls the box of dye out of her bag and rushes to the bathroom.
By the time the dye is ready to wash out, she’s left Sasha three more messages and Googled Harry’s address so she knows how to get there. It’s a mile or so out of Peel, on a little lane, a property set on its own a few hundred yards beyond a cluster of houses. Which is perfect. Nice and secluded. Nobody to see what she’s doing.
She thinks it through while she has a quick shower to wash the dye out. Harry could be playing in the garden. On his own. And if Tom was going to be working from home, that suggests his wife is out. So, just Tom to deal with. And given the shape he’s in… A determined smile creeps onto her lips. I can take him out, no problem.
Natalie’s short hair and the chestnut colour make her look so different she thinks it’ll be hard for anyone to recognise her now. And her appearance is a lot more child-friendly, she thinks. More fun. She quickly smooths on a bit of make-up to give her face a better colour and hide the dark rings under her eyes. All she needs now is a change of outfit, then she’s ready to roll.
Quick, quick, she tells herself, moving as if she’s on fast forward, stomach fluttering as she pulls a short denim skirt over leggings, then a faded black T-shirt, with a skull on the front and ‘You Only Live Once’ scrawled on the back. Not bad, she decides when she catches her reflection. Better than she’d hoped. And she’s got Converse shoes, a baseball hat and over-sized sunglasses to finish it off. Now she’s a skater girl and her slight frame makes her look younger than her years.
She’s stuffing her belongings into her holdall when her phone rings. Yes! That’ll be Sasha. Her heart lifts, confident of success if there’s two of them.
‘Hi!’ she says, cheery and expectant. There’s silence on th
e other end and she wonders for a moment if she’s lost reception. But no, the little sign shows four bars. She listens again and hears a muffled cough. ‘Hello,’ she says. ‘Hello. Who’s this?’
‘Natalie.’ Her name stretches out into a long, whispered sigh. ‘I thought so.’
She gasps, as if she’s been hit, her body tingling with a sudden slap of rage. There’s no mistaking that voice.
It’s Tom.
Thirty-Seven
Then
In prison, Natalie crossed off the date on the calendar that was stuck to the wall next to her bed. It was a present from Linda, who’d been released, and showed cheeky pictures of naked rugby players. It usually made her smile, but today was different. Today she didn’t even see the images.
She was like a hive of bees coming to life in the spring, everything about her buzzing. Her pulse was a bit faster, her muscles a bit tighter, her stomach not sure if it wanted to hold on to breakfast or not. But it wasn’t surprising, because her efforts today would determine her future. She got her writing pad out from her cabinet.
Little Munchkin,
It’s an important day today because if Mummy passes this exam she can be a Personal Trainer. Won’t that be great? It means I can earn money and buy you lovely clothes and toys and take you on holidays to fun places and get us somewhere nice to live. It’s the start of our future, Harry, a future that is only eleven weeks away now. Oh my goodness, how slow the time is going, but the thought of us being together has driven me on, even on those dark days when every movement was like wading through treacle, my mind overflowing with everything that could go wrong. Days when even breathing seemed too much effort. The thought of you stopped me from giving up, Harry. You are my world, my life, my everything.
