Black Heart Blue

by Louisa Reid

‘Rebecca, dear?’ She put her hand on my arm and I paused and waited.

  ‘How are you? Your parents told me you’d moved out. Where are you living now, then?’ Her voice was heavy with concern, almost hushed with worry.

  ‘I’m fine, Mrs Sparks, thanks. How are you?’

  ‘I’m well, of course. Thank you for asking.’

  ‘Well, I’d best go now.’

  ‘Oh, of course, dear, but you know, you really ought to go and make things up with your parents – I hope you don’t mind me saying, but they’re devastated, you know. We’re all praying for you.’

  I nearly screamed then but remembered where I was just in time. Have you heard this, Hephzi? I called, but she gave no reply. Then Cheryl whizzed up, waving her list at me, calling that we ought to hurry. Mrs Sparks eyed her suspiciously.

  The women waited to be introduced.

  ‘Cheryl, this is Mrs Sparks. She lives in my village. She’s a helper at the church.’

  ‘Churchwarden, actually. I’ve known the girls, I mean Rebecca, all her life.’

  ‘Oh, have you?’ Cheryl’s voice had taken on an edge. I grabbed the handle of the trolley and started to drag her off in the direction of the tills.

  ‘I recognize you, I’m sure,’ Mrs Sparks called after us. ‘Aren’t you the wife of the chap who works in the care home?’

  ‘Don’t answer her, Cheryl, she’s a busybody, she’ll tell them.’

  ‘I want to give her a bloody piece of my mind,’ muttered Cheryl. She stuffed the food into the thin plastic bags, hurriedly punched numbers into the machine, and I scurried after her as she marched back to the car. On the way home she broke the silence.

  ‘What I don’t understand is how all these people have just stood back all this time and watched you being treated so bad? I can’t understand it. I can’t.’

  She wanted me to explain. I fiddled with my seat belt.

  ‘I mean, it’s not right, you can’t let that kind of thing go on under your nose and do nothing about it. It’s a bloody disgrace, is what it is.’

  I thought about what she was saying.

  ‘Mrs Sparks did help us, sort of. She gave us things, food, clothes. She tried to help.’

  ‘Not bloody hard enough, Rebecca. You deserved better.’

  Cheryl still didn’t understand how clever The Father was, how good he was at putting on his mask, how well he kept Mrs Sparks in flattery and falsehoods.

  ‘And as for your aunt and uncle, well, they’re even worse. Your own flesh and blood, just leaving you like that with people I wouldn’t let mind my cat, let alone two defenceless kids!’

  Cheryl had been waiting a long time to get this off her chest. I let her talk on as we drove home. Nothing she said was a surprise to me, I’d had years and years to think the same thoughts.

  ‘Auntie Melissa moved to Scotland. She couldn’t really visit.’

  ‘Not good enough, I’m afraid.’

  ‘People don’t bother, they want an easy life.’

  ‘Well, they should be ashamed of themselves.’

  Maybe so. It took too much energy to be angry though, I needed all my strength just to face the rest of my life.

  I was almost as happy as I’d ever been living with Danny and his family. But I knew I couldn’t sleep in Archie’s room forever, it wasn’t fair. I sat on the bed and tried to think of an alternative to the situation, but I had no bright ideas. I could really have done with my sister’s input, she knew more about being normal than I did. Her answer had been to get a boyfriend, but that wasn’t an option for me. I’d found a family, but they weren’t really mine and there wasn’t enough room. Even though I did the hoovering and helped make the dinner, I knew it wasn’t much of a contribution and that I shouldn’t outstay my welcome. It was time to go, again.

  Then, at the end of the month, the phone went. I was playing with Ben and thought nothing of it until Cheryl called that it was for me. I didn’t like the look on her face when I took the receiver from her hand and she marched off into the kitchen, muttering under her breath. Holding the phone like I was handling a gun I whispered hello. At first I didn’t recognize the voice on the other end of the line.

  ‘Hello?’ I managed again.

  ‘Rebecca. It’s your Aunt Melissa.’

  There was a long pause while I processed the information. I could hear her breathing, too fast.

  ‘Are you still there?’

  I nodded but of course she couldn’t hear that. My mouth was far too dry to speak.

  ‘Well, Rebecca, if you’re listening, I want you to know, I heard what happened, that you’ve left home, and, if you like, well, you’re welcome with us any time.’

  She waited for me to respond. Part of me wanted to tell her that she was too late, Hephzi was already dead and I’d managed to get out without anyone else’s help.

  ‘I’m sorry about it all. I should have done something sooner.’ Her voice became agitated. ‘She never should have married him, we told her at the time, but she was desperate, you know.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I interrupted.

  ‘Your mother. Oh, it’s water under the bridge, but I’m sure it’s all his fault, Roderick’s.’

  ‘No. Not all.’

  ‘Yes, well, if you let me know, I’ll be there whenever. Just give us a bit of warning. It’s a bit of a drive.’ She laughed nervously.

  ‘How did you get this number?’

  ‘Mrs Sparks, you know the church woman? She called me and let me know what had happened and where you were. I left my number when we were down for, you know, your sister’s funeral.’

  I thought about that and wondered what had been said. If Mrs Sparks had worked out where I was then maybe The Parents had too, maybe they’d be coming for me, quiet in the night, to stuff me in a sack and carry me off.

  ‘I don’t want to see you.’

  ‘All right, that’s fair enough. But I’d like a chance to talk to you, to explain a few things.’

  ‘OK,’ I whispered in the end. ‘I’ll let you know.’ She reeled off her number and I scribbled it down and stuffed the paper into my pocket. I dwelt on the call all day and what she’d said about The Parents, deciphering her cryptic clues, filling in the words, completing the puzzle. But I couldn’t get there on my own, there were still too many blanks.

  I knew I had to leave Danny and Cheryl’s, I wasn’t their responsibility and their house wasn’t made for so many people – it was starting to split at the seams and though Danny didn’t seem to notice Cheryl looked harassed. But I didn’t know how to leave or where to go next. Living with Auntie Melissa was out of the question. She’d left us to rot and what if The Parents showed up? I couldn’t rely on Melissa and Simon to back me up and keep me safe. I retreated to Archie’s room and stayed there all day. In the middle of the night I packed my things. Only after that did I fall asleep.

  In the morning when the family came down for breakfast I was already ready to go, even though I still had no idea where. Cheryl stared at me as she stood halfway down the stairs, still bleary eyed and in her dressing-gown.

  ‘What’s up, love? What are you doing up and dressed at this time in the morning?’

  I felt horrible making my announcement. ‘I’m leaving today, Cheryl. I just waited, I mean, I wanted to say goodbye and thank you.’

  ‘You what? You can’t just up and off like that. Don’t be so daft, come and get your breakfast.’

  ‘No, really, it’s time I went. You’ve been so kind.’ Every word hurt; my throat ached with the effort not to cry. I wished she wouldn’t be so nice. Ben and Archie and the other kids were coming down and I wanted to get out of there before I had to face them too.

  ‘Thanks again, Cheryl. I’ll be in touch, OK?’

  I pulled the front door open and rushed out into the early morning sunshine. Squinting against the brightness, which glared like a spotlight into my eyes,
I dashed down the path, holding my carrier bag of things. I hadn’t taken everything that Cheryl had bought for me, only the necessities.

  It was stupid of me to go without a proper plan but the dragging sense that I was a burden on these kind people’s lives had become worse than the prospect of finding a new place to stay. I only knew that I needed to find my sister and I walked quickly down the pavement out of the estate and on to the nearby main road. From here I could get a bus back to my own village. I’d wondered if Hephzi was staying away simply because she couldn’t find me. I’d been haunted by the thought that she’d somehow been left behind, trapped in our room in the vicarage, pawing at the window to be let out. If I wanted to see her then I would have to walk back there. That was the only direction I knew and I started the trek though the sun felt warm on my shoulders and head; it would be hot later. The fields to either side of me were full of oilseed rape and my eyes began to stream and my nose to run; the pollen was a tormenting tickle at the back of my throat. The bright yellow fields reflected the growing glare of the day and I squinted as I walked, my eyes fixed on the pavement before me. For a moment I wondered what would happen if The Father drove past, spotted me and stopped. He could easily bundle me into the back of his car and return me to his lair. The thought pulled me up short and I almost turned around and ran back to the safety of Danny’s house. This was sheer madness. But something called me forward again and I knew it was Hephzi. I had to go back for her.

  The heat began to hurt but I kept on and eventually the sign welcoming visitors to our village appeared. Thirsty, I licked my dry lips, trying not to think about water. Then an idea came to me, all at once, like a sudden downpour of rain and I moved again, faster now that I was almost there. Craig’s estate was closer to the outskirts of the village than the vicarage, which lay right at the other end. It made sense to start there; if Hephzi wasn’t in the vicarage then that was where she was sure to be.

  The streets were quiet, a few mums with buggies strolled past on their way to the park to feed the ducks and to push their children high on the swings. A little girl on a scooter, her plaits flying, whizzed by me as her mother hurried behind. I watched the teenagers as they circled the park on their bikes and the little groups of kids, enjoying the final lazy days of summer as they meandered together towards the village open-air pool, their towels tucked under their arms, bottles of Coke swinging from their fingers. Hephzi and I had never been allowed to go, of course. I trudged on. No one noticed me.

  Craig’s place was easy to find, Hephzi had taken me there often enough over the past few months. I’d told her to stop making me act like a stalker but she hadn’t cared and told me not to be so selfish. I’d given in, like always. Now I stood in front of the front door, doing nothing, waiting for her to pop up and give me some instructions, like a director charming the best performance out of a difficult star. I sniffed. Nothing but the faint haze of roses from the pot by the front door hung in the air. No Hephzi. It was useless. I turned and walked back down the little concrete path between the small squares of green lawn. Craig’s bike sat on the road in front of the house and I paused again. It was stupid to come here and not even to check inside, she could be hiding, cross with me for leaving her, that would be the kind of trick she’d play.

  Before I could change my mind I turned and scuttled back to the door, pressed the bell hard and waited, listening to the sound of my breathing. No one answered. They could be round the back. I didn’t want to open the gate and stroll round the side of the house like I’d been going there all my life, nor did I want to ring the bell again but I made myself do it, holding the little brass button down longer this time and listening to the buzz reverberate inside the house. Somewhere upstairs there was movement; I sensed thuds and heard a door bang, the tumble of footsteps on the stairs, then there was Craig at the door in boxer shorts, barely awake, peering out through the crack between door and wall, not quite seeing me through the fug of sleep.

  ‘Yeah?’

  I coughed, my throat still tickled with pollen, and rubbed the back of my hand over my nose. I waited for him to notice me. He pushed his hand through his hair, which flopped into his eyes, I’d never seen him without his stupid hat on and he had nice hair, I supposed, for him. He opened his eyes a little wider and realized it was me.

  ‘What do you want?’ His voice was suddenly angry and loud. I stepped back a pace, surprised at the force of it. It took me all my courage to speak.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Why?’

  This was a difficult one. I would have to lie.

  ‘I want to talk to you.’

  I waited as he thought about it. I could hear the traffic from far-away roads, the buzzing of bees as they moved in and out of flowers, a baby crying somewhere down the street. I waited without looking at him, staring at the white plastic doorframe and the concrete step. Finally he opened the door and I followed him into the living room. He didn’t seem to care that he was in his pants, he just stood there like that was totally normal. I kept my eyes fixed on the window behind him and tried to feel if Hephzi was hiding somewhere.

  ‘Yeah? What is it, then? I thought they’d put you away, that’s what they’ve been saying.’

  ‘Who?’

  He didn’t give me the satisfaction of an answer and I tried to imagine the village gossip machine at work, Mrs Sparks flicking a switch, firing up the engine and then sending out batches of information, true or false (who cared?), through letter boxes and windows, over garden fences, in the post office and corner shop. They would have buzzed with the story of the crazy vicar’s daughter rampaging through the village in her night clothes, kicking up a fuss, being taken off to a secure unit and held there for her own good. Or maybe The Father had pontificated from his pulpit about the perils of the devil and his own daughter marked with his sign, who was at last blessedly incarcerated. Now his congregation would be able to sleep easy in their beds, knowing that the beast within had been caged. I heard the words fall from his barbed-wire jaw, that snare that had held me tight and twisted all my life, as if he were there behind me, snarling in my ear. Craig broke his spell.

  ‘What d’you want, then? Are you just going to stand there all day or what?’

  ‘Water, can I have some water?’

  He looked liked I’d just requested the crown jewels or a million quid and while he disappeared into the kitchen I sent out messages to Hephzi, I shouted at her to come out, come out, wherever she was hiding. Nothing. He handed me the water and I drank it in one long gulp while he watched.

  ‘You hungry?’

  I nodded. I’d left without breakfast.

  This time I followed him into the kitchen and watched him find cereal, bowls, milk. We sat at the table together and ate. He slurped and munched noisily, enjoying his food, helping himself to more as if I wasn’t there.

  When he’d finished he remembered me again and stared as I spooned up the remaining flakes from the bottom of the bowl.

  ‘You don’t look anything like her, you know.’

  I laughed. Did he think I’d never noticed? He blushed and tried to defend himself.

  ‘Well, you’re twins and that. You should look a bit alike.’

  ‘Not necessarily. We’re non-identical.’ My voice dripped irony and he grinned and flashed me a little of his reputed charm. I stiffened, not prepared to be won over. If it hadn’t been for him Hephzi would still be alive. Before I could censor them, my mouth blurted out those thoughts – words I’d never thought to utter, and immediately he was red, burning like fire, and a tempest of sparks came flashing in my direction.

  ‘What’re you saying that for? That’s lies, complete bullshit! I didn’t do anything, nothing. I loved her. I love her.’

  Angry too, I shouted back, ‘You got her pregnant, you stupid pig. You put your baby inside her and she didn’t realize! She wasn’t like other girls, she was innocent and you took advantage of
that. You destroyed her.’

  ‘No. That’s crap, that’s rubbish. Shut up!’

  We were both standing and he grabbed my shoulders and started to shake me, his rage pulsing in waves of panic. He wasn’t as strong as The Father, his fingers didn’t bite into my flesh planting seeds of death, and I wasn’t afraid. I shoved back at him and he let go.

  ‘Please, tell me you’re lying. Tell me that’s not true.’

  ‘It is true. I didn’t come to tell you that though, actually, and I’m sorry I did. I’m going now.’ I didn’t want to watch him crying, I didn’t need to see his pain spilling on to the kitchen floor and be obliged to mop it up. I was through with that.

  He pulled me back. He was desperate now to keep me there to find out what he thought I knew.

  ‘Tell me it all. Please, I want to know how she died. You should tell me, she loved me.’

  I shrugged. ‘I bet you’ve got another girlfriend now. You didn’t love her, you just used her. You should have known better.’

  He shook his head madly. ‘You’ve got it wrong, got us wrong. She must have told you, she must have said.’

  ‘If your stupid mother hadn’t come to the church and hadn’t gone interfering like that, she might be OK. She might have stayed alive and had your baby. I suppose it would probably be born by now.’

  He winced and I could see that he was afraid of what I was saying. I’d found out all about babies on Archie’s computer in his room, all the facts and details and information, and I threw it like bullets in his direction. It was my turn to do the hurting and I was shelling him, my exposed target, and he was paralysed by the force of my fire.

  ‘Why didn’t she tell me?’

  ‘She didn’t know! I told you, she wasn’t like the others.’

  ‘I would have taken care of her and the baby. I’d have done anything.’

  ‘Too late. You screwed up. You should have stayed away from my sister. She was too good for you.’

  ‘I know. I know. I’m sorry.’

  Blubbering like a child he crumpled to the floor, his back against the kitchen units, sprawling in a puddle of his own misery. It was what he deserved. I exhaled and with that breath blew out over half a year’s worth of pain. I saw it leave me, floating on the air, particles of darkness escaping my body. Lighter and brighter, I turned to go again.