by Mark Edwards
And as she thought this, Olivia whispered something she didn’t catch.
The lights turned green and the car behind her sounded its horn. She drove on, hardly able to concentrate on the road.
‘What did you say, Olivia?’ Jessica asked.
‘Nothing,’ Olivia replied.
Felix, in the passenger seat beside Jessica, tutted. ‘She said, “Fire is scary.”’ He peered back at his little sister and tutted again. ‘Yeah, Olivia, that’s right. Fire is scary. She’s a psycho, Mum. A weird little psycho.’
But Olivia didn’t seem bothered by her brother’s insult. She continued to look back at the school, mouthing something under her breath.
They continued the drive home in near silence. Jessica stared out of the window at the dark streets, longing for a glass of wine.
She saw the flashing blue light as soon as they entered the estate. An ambulance, parked a little way up the hill, with a small group of people crowded around. Jessica slowed the car to a halt and wound down her window. Felix and Olivia craned their necks to look.
One of the neighbours, Derek, approached the car, at the same time that Jessica realised whose house the ambulance was outside.
‘What happened?’ she asked.
Derek, a man in his sixties who was tall and dapper, held his hat against his stomach. ‘It’s Mrs Shelton,’ he said. ‘Pat. They say she had a fall.’
‘Oh my God. Is she all right?’
‘I’m afraid not. She banged her head and . . .’ He glanced at the children, clearly not wanting to say any more in front of them.
Jessica whispered, ‘She’s dead?’
He nodded. ‘She was a fine lady,’ he said.
Jessica wound up the window and Derek drifted back towards the house. It wasn’t unusual for an elderly lady who lived alone to fall and hurt herself, Jessica told herself. Not unusual at all.
She looked back at Olivia, whose face was pressed against the window, staring at the flickering light of the ambulance.
She must have felt Jessica looking at her, because she turned towards her mum. ‘What happened, Mummy?’ she asked. ‘Who was that man talking about?’
Felix piped up. ‘Mrs Shelton, the dinner lady. She’s dead! He said she fell over and banged her head.’
Jessica winced, but couldn’t take her eyes off her daughter. Realisation bloomed on her face as blue light bounced across it. In that instant she didn’t look like a child, she seemed wise and old, just the latest face on a line that stretched back through history, into the ancient mist.
‘Poor lady,’ Olivia said. ‘I bet it did hurt.’
Chapter 16
‘Are you sure you’ve got everything?’ Jessica asked for the fifth time, after Will had carried his and Felix’s bags out and put them in the car.
‘Yes! And they have shops on the Isle of Wight, you know.’
Felix was standing behind Will on the doorstep, impatient to get going. He looked so grown-up with the trendy new haircut he’d got during the week, and Jessica was certain he’d got a couple of inches taller in the past month. She had been so busy worrying about Olivia recently that she’d hardly given her son a thought. Guiltily, she made a vow to change that when he got back from this trip to a football tournament, which he and Will were both looking forward to hugely. A couple of days away from the stresses of home. She wished she were going instead of Will.
She kissed Will on the lips then grabbed Felix and mussed his hair before pulling him into a hug. ‘Look after him,’ she said.
‘Who are you talking to?’ Felix asked. ‘Dad or me?’
‘Both of you.’
Olivia came out and they waved as the car pulled away.
‘Right,’ she said to Olivia. ‘It’s just us girls now.’
Olivia beamed, showing off her perfect little teeth. ‘All the girls.’
They went inside. The house felt strange. Jessica was so used to her radar tracking two children that when one of them was absent it took a while for her system to adjust. Olivia had already run into the kitchen, declaring that she was hungry. Caspar followed her with his eyes, thumping his tail against his bed. Once, when he was younger, Caspar would have bounded around too, but these days he was content to watch, tongue lolling.
‘Okay, what would you like for dinner?’
‘An ice lolly.’
‘Livvy, you can’t have an ice lolly for dinner. How about mac and cheese?’
‘A jam sandwich. And a lolly.’
If it didn’t contain sugar, Olivia didn’t want it. ‘Mac and cheese it is.’
While Jessica made Olivia’s dinner she reflected on the week just gone. Everything had been quiet on the Olivia front. There had been no nocturnal disturbances. No incidents at school. In fact, both Mrs Rose and Ryan said Olivia had been ‘good as gold’ all week and there had been no sign of her supposed death fixation. And what Olivia had said to Pat Shelton, only a week before she died, had to be a coincidence. There was no other possible explanation for it. No rational one, anyway.
Olivia and Felix had gone to Mum’s for tea on Tuesday and Thursday, because Jessica suddenly had a rush of pre-Christmas work to get done, and Mum hadn’t reported any strange occurrences either. Jessica had immediately shut down Mum’s attempt to talk about Simon Parker. She was sick of talking and thinking about all of it. Christmas was a month away and Jessica didn’t want to think about anything except all the presents she needed to buy, all the preparation that would fill December. Soon, she was sure, Olivia’s recent strange behaviour would be nothing more than a small family mystery, something she and Will would laugh about until it was wholly forgotten.
Yesterday evening, when she’d gone to pick the kids up, Olivia had been sitting quietly on the living room floor with her new drawing pad while Mum and Pete watched their favourite quiz show. (One of the contestants was black and another was in a wheelchair, which was, according to Pete, the BBC ‘pandering to political correctness’.) Jessica had gone to take a look at what Olivia was drawing but Olivia had snatched the book away, saying it was ‘a secret’.
‘I think she’s doing a picture for your Christmas card,’ Pete whispered when Olivia left the room with the pad. He had recovered from his bug and had already regaled Jessica with the grim details. ‘I lost two pounds!’ he said, patting his belly.
As well as refusing to worry about Olivia’s behaviour and so-called death obsession, Jessica had been practising her mindfulness techniques every day, so by the time the weekend approached she was as relaxed as she ever got. Yes, Will was going away, so she worried about him and Felix, but only a little. She was determined that this weekend would be stress-free. Stress-free and fun.
She served the macaroni and cheese and sat with Olivia while she ate.
‘Aren’t you having dinner too, Mummy?’
‘I’m going to eat a bit later.’
Olivia thought about this. ‘Are you going to have yucky food?’
‘Oh yes. Lots of vegetables. A whole plate full of vegetables.’
Olivia stuck out her tongue. ‘Disgusting.’
Jessica tried not to laugh, but it was hard. ‘Come on, sweetheart. Eat yours before it goes cold.’
‘Yes, Mummy.’
Caspar had hauled himself out of his bed and was lying by Olivia’s chair, hoping she would drop a piece of cheesy pasta. He had loved it when Olivia was a baby, food falling to the floor with pleasing regularity. Pickings were slimmer these days.
Olivia glanced down at Caspar then back at Jessica. ‘There are three girls and one boy here.’
‘Two girls, you mean.’
A look of surprise flitted across Olivia’s face before she nodded seriously. ‘Oh yes.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. Jessica wasn’t one hundred per cent sure, but she thought her daughter said, in her most serious voice, ‘It’s a secret.’
‘What’s a secret, sweetheart?’ Jessica was ignoring the butterflies in her stomach.
‘Nothing, Mummy.’
‘Olivia!’
The little girl gazed at her with those big, innocent eyes. ‘It wasn’t me.’
‘Then who was it?’
But Olivia didn’t respond. She got down from her chair and embraced Caspar, pressing her face against his fur. Jessica’s first instinct was to tell her to get up or she’d be covered in dog hair, but then she heard a sob.
‘Olivia? What’s wrong?’
Olivia hugged Caspar harder. He was so gentle and tolerant. He just lay there and took it.
‘Sweetheart?’ Jessica asked, dropping to her haunches beside them.
Olivia tore herself away from Caspar. A long gold hair clung to her damp cheek. Jessica plucked it away and pulled Olivia into a hug. ‘Come on, tell me.’
She waited, sure Olivia was going to tell her it was a secret again. But instead all she said was, ‘Can I have an ice lolly now? Please?’
Jessica let Olivia stay up late, snuggling with her on the sofa and putting on Frozen. Olivia rarely sat through a whole film, but now she was enrapt. She watched with her eyes on stalks, her expression so comical that Jessica had to sneak a photo, which she texted to Will.
Are you sure she should be watching that? he texted back.
She replied: Why do you say that?
Isn’t it a bit scary for a four-year-old? And then there’s the sisters thing. Anyway, about to board ferry. Will call when we get there x
Oh God, had she made a mistake letting Olivia watch it? She didn’t seem frightened, even when Elsa and Anna’s parents were killed early on. But they hadn’t yet got to the part when Elsa uses her powers to summon a gigantic snow monster . . . What if it triggered the darker part of Olivia’s imagination?
She hit pause.
‘Mummy!’ Olivia wailed.
‘We should finish it tomorrow morning. It’s very late. How about I make you a hot chocolate and we watch Peppa Pig before bed?’
‘Peppa Pig is for babies. I want to watch Frozen!’
But in the end, the promise of hot chocolate (‘With marshmallows!’) was enough, and by the time they’d got through four episodes of Peppa Pig Olivia’s eyelids were drooping. Once in bed, she fell asleep during her second story. Jessica kissed her forehead and tiptoed from the room.
She opened a bottle of red wine and poked through the cupboards, trying to find something that appealed. She rarely ate dinner if Will was out. In the end she grabbed a bag of Kettle Chips and some dip. She went back upstairs and put her fleece pyjamas on before settling on the sofa, with Caspar snoozing on the armchair. She flicked through the channels and scoured Netflix but couldn’t find anything to watch, so decided to put on the last thirty minutes of Frozen.
She hadn’t seen it before. The film came out not long after Olivia was born, when looking after a baby consumed her entire life. And there was another reason, although she’d never acknowledged it. The sisters thing, as Will had put it. She knew – because the songs were inescapable – that the movie was about a pair of sisters. For a long time after Izzy’s death she had avoided anything that even touched on that topic. In the same way Mum still couldn’t watch certain soap operas, Jessica couldn’t face books or films or TV shows that featured female siblings.
She thought she’d got over that, but watching the end of Frozen – when the blonde sister, the one with powers, was reunited with the younger, duller sister – Jessica felt that familiar burning behind her eyes. She fought it, laughing at herself, but it was impossible not to see Anna and Elsa as herself and Izzy. Except in this fictional world there was a happy ending. Nobody died.
By the time the film ended she was sobbing, a great torrent of tears bursting through the dam. She hugged Caspar, burying her face in his fur until she managed to get hold of herself.
The final credits rolled and the TV fell quiet. Apart from the sound of Caspar breathing beside her, the house was silent. Before moving here they had lived on a busy road, so the rush of traffic and the loud conversations of passers-by had formed a constant backdrop to her life. She still hadn’t got used to the end-of-the-world atmosphere of the estate.
Crossing to the window, she parted the curtains and peered out into the darkness. A fine, misty rain fell, the sodium-orange street lights failing to pierce the gloom. A cat slunk along a wall in search of shelter but, apart from that and a TV flicker in a house across the street, there was no sign of life. She shivered as she turned away, making sure there was no gap in the curtain. She laughed at herself. This was something she’d picked up from her mother, who said a gap allowed the devil to peek into the room.
Needing to eradicate the silence, Jessica put on a cookery show, just for the background noise, and poured a second glass of wine. She checked her phone, scrolled through Facebook and commented on a cute picture a friend had posted of her little boy. She had been so busy recently that she hadn’t seen any of her friends, something she would need to rectify in the run-up to Christmas. She texted Will, asking him if they’d reached the hotel yet. The message displayed as ‘read’ almost immediately but he didn’t respond. This was faintly irritating but she wasn’t too bothered, not like in the old days when it would drive her crazy if he didn’t answer a text quickly.
Caspar jumped down from the sofa and nudged her leg with his nose.
‘Need a wee?’ she said, leading him out to the kitchen and opening the back door, letting in a blast of frigid air.
She noticed that a pot plant had been knocked over. Caspar, presumably, when she’d let him out earlier. The rain had stopped temporarily so Jessica went out in her slippers to right it, the security light coming on as she crossed the small patio.
Caspar immediately ran over to the gate and barked. Maybe he’d spotted the cat Jessica had seen earlier. But then he barked again.
Jessica approached the gate, the dog at her feet. He wouldn’t stop barking. She shushed him but he ignored her, yapping at something beyond the fence. She knew she could drag him inside but she had a strong urge to see what had excited him.
There was a gap between two of the panels on the fence, which they’d been meaning to fix for ages. Standing on the edge of the lawn, she looked through it. There was a grey car on the other side of the road, with someone sitting in the driver’s seat. It was too dark to see them properly, but she was sure the driver was looking at her house.
Caspar let out a volley of barks and the car engine and lights came on. Immediately it pulled away and vanished around the corner. But not before Jessica saw the badge on the back. The H.
It was the same car that had followed her around the park. This time, she definitely wasn’t imagining it.
Chapter 17
Jessica went back into the kitchen with Caspar at her heels, and shut and double-locked the door.
The same car.
She stood with her back to the door, hand on her chest, feeling as if her heart was going to burst out of it. She could call the police, but what was the point? There was a car parked opposite my house that I think might have followed me around the park a couple of weeks ago. It sounded ridiculous.
But her entire body thrummed with unease. The empty spaces in the house felt haunted. The shadows were dark with menace. Every creak and rustle startled her. The dog seemed tense as well, staring into the hallway outside the kitchen and barking as if there was something, someone, there. She rubbed his ears, wishing they didn’t own such a soft dog, that they’d got a vicious Dobermann or German shepherd instead.
She walked around the house with Caspar following, checking the doors and windows were secured and drawing the curtains. All the while she told herself she was worrying about nothing. She had looked up the H badge after the previous incident and confirmed that it was the Hyundai symbol. It was a common make, and grey was an even more popular colour. It had to be some random person, unconnected to the incident by the park, which itself had almost certainly been an idiot messing around.
> She found her wine glass. As she raised it to her lips her phone rang, making her jump.
It was Will, telling her about the journey, the choppy ferry, how Felix had gone green and almost thrown up, the cramped room they were staying in. She was going to tell him about the car but stopped herself. He was a hundred miles away and couldn’t do anything to help. That made her wonder if the car owner – the word ‘stalker’ tried to creep into her head but she rejected it – had known Will was going away. Were they watching her because they knew she was alone with Olivia?
By the time she got her thoughts in order Will was saying, ‘Okay, I’d better go. Felix needs a good night’s sleep for the tournament tomorrow.’
He hung up, leaving her alone. Caspar had flaked out in the kitchen. It was half ten and she was way too wired to sleep. She went back to the sofa with her wine and switched on the TV. The local news was on. It took a moment for her to register what she was seeing. It was a building, ablaze and surrounded by fire engines, great jets of water arcing into the flames. The ticker at the bottom of the screen declared that these were live pictures. She grabbed the remote and turned it up, just as the picture cut back to the news anchor in the studio.
‘Scenes there from William Peacocke Secondary in Beckenham, South London. For updates on that story . . .’
Jessica gasped and got up from the sofa.
‘How?’ Jessica said aloud. ‘How is that possible?’ She stared at the TV, which had moved on to the next story.
Fire is scary. Olivia had said that, hadn’t she, when they’d driven past the school? A chill rippled through her, making her shiver from head to toe. She thought of Pat Shelton, who would never serve another school meal. She remembered how Pete had got sick after Olivia told him to get well soon.
Jessica had gone cold. Because no matter how much she kept telling herself there had to be a rational explanation for all this, the evidence was mounting that there was something inexplicable going on. Something seriously fucking creepy.
