by Harriet Tyce
Julia comes over and approves the plan. I’m swept up with her, with Nicole, the darts of envy cast by all those excluded from this blessed crew falling harmless at my feet, held off by the protection of Julia’s charm. Robin and I walk along the street to Nicole’s house, hand in hand, and I can see from the smile on Robin’s face that she feels the same exhilaration.
Nicole opens a bottle of Prosecco as soon as we get into her house, and the girls disappear upstairs in a gust of giggles and whispers. I take hold of the glass that Nicole thrusts at me, condensation chill on my fingers. The bubbles catch in my throat, and I cough, thinking I’m about to humiliate myself by choking again. But Nicole starts to laugh, and Julia too. The cough passes and I take another sip, and another, drunk not on alcohol but on the headiness of early friendship, all the promise of evenings like this to come.
An hour later and we’re two bottles down. They’ve given me the gossip about the teachers and other mums, how both of their marriages broke down, but they survived. I’m drinking it all in, though I don’t share much about Andrew, only that we’re separated. I tell them I’ve been invited to become part of the flower-arranging committee and they laugh, telling me not to touch it with a barge pole.
“They’ve no idea what they’re doing,” Julia says. “One of them did a day course at some florist in Marylebone and since then it’s been bloodshed over the placing of a single rose.”
Nicole snorts. “What Julia means is that she ran it very well from Years One to Three, but then some new parents turned up in Year Three and took over, claiming greater expertise. They’d sabotage the arrangements that we did. It stopped being worth it.”
I look at Julia in wonder. “I can’t imagine anyone getting the better of you,” I say.
“I choose my battles,” Julia says, taking a sip of Prosecco. “It all started to get unpleasant around the time that Paul and
I were dealing with our initial separation. I take my involvement in the school very seriously, but I wasn’t going to waste energy arguing about hydrangeas.” She sits up, as if reminded suddenly of something. “Didn’t they have that maths test today?”
Nicole nods.
“Girls!” Julia calls. She stands up and walks out to the bottom of the stairs, calling up again. “Girls, can you come down? I need to talk to you.”
There’s a thunder of footsteps from above and then the three girls appear. Daisy stands tall and earnest at the back, her eyebrows knitted in a worried expression. Pippa also looks tense. Only Robin seems relaxed. The room has tipped off-kilter, somehow, the mood shifted.
“How did everyone do in the maths test today?” Julia says.
Robin’s expression remains unchanged. Pippa shifts from foot to foot and Daisy turns a dull red, blotches appearing on her neck. No one replies.
“Seriously, girls. How did you get on?”
Robin looks at me, her head tilted to one side in inquiry. I shrug, nod.
“Eighty-two percent,” she says. “But we did fractions last year at my old school.”
Daisy has gone even more red, and Pippa’s almost jumping from foot to foot now, her movements increasingly jerky.
“That’s very impressive,” Julia says. “How about you, Pippa?”
Pippa squirms and mutters, “Sixty-nine percent.”
“But you struggle with fractions, don’t you?” Julia says. “That’s not bad.”
Pippa’s face relaxes a little. She moves over to where Nicole is sitting, hovering beside her, and after a moment Nicole puts an arm around her, squeezes her tight.
“And you, Daisy?” Julia says. She’s smiling but there’s ice behind her eyes. I’m feeling nervous and I haven’t even sat a maths test.
“Seventy-seven,” Daisy says, looking down.
“Sorry, darling. What was that?” Julia says, strong emphasis on the word darling.
“Seventy-seven percent,” Daisy says, more loudly. She pushes her hair back off her face, walks up close to her mother. “Seventy-seven percent! Not eighty. OK? Are you happy now?” Mother and daughter stay nose to nose before Daisy bursts into tears and runs out of the room, Pippa in tow. Robin hovers for a moment, looking at me in a confused way, before she follows her friends.
“It’s really not that bad,” Nicole says. “It was better than Pippa’s mark.”
“That’s not the point,” Julia says. “Of course it’s better than Pippa’s mark. But she should be getting over eighty percent, easily.”
I sit back in my chair, spectator to the two drunk women as they glare at each other, all friendship seemingly forgotten. I’m holding my breath, and it’s only when Nicole laughs that I let it out in a long, silent sigh.
“You take all this far too seriously, you know,” Nicole says to Julia. “It’s going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Julia says. “I don’t want to take anything for granted.”
“Oh, come on,” Nicole says, in a way that suggests she’s done this many times before. “You know she’s going to be just fine. She’s been top of the year all the way through. She’s a dead cert to get through, we all know that.”
I think it’s safe to interrupt. “Is it really that bad?”
Both women look at me with surprise.
“Don’t you know anything about the process?” Nicole says.
“Not yet,” I say. “I guess I could have found out, but I’ve been so overwhelmed with moving and the case and everything.”
They laugh, but there’s a note of incredulity there, sharp at the edges.
“Oh, for your obliviousness,” Julia says.
Nicole laughs. “Julia has approached this like a military campaign. She’s been putting Daisy through boot camp since Year Four, at least.”
Julia shrugs. “Life’s a war,” she says. “And this is a battle I intend to win. You have to think about the long game. GCSE results, A levels. Oxbridge. It’s very competitive.” She pauses, sighs. “I know you think I’m mad, but I’ll do anything to make sure she gets through to the senior school. She might seem a shoo-in with the marks she’s getting, but it’s so important. Daisy loves Ashams so much.” She sounds as if she’s going to burst into tears.
“And the scholarship,” Nicole mutters. “Daisy has always been top of the class.”
Julia smiles in a modest way. “I’ll settle for her getting through to the senior school, you know. That’s the only thing that matters. The scholarship really isn’t important.”
I blink, given the vehemence with which she’d discussed it in the headteacher’s office, but I’m not going to bring that up again, not when it’s all going so well.
“I’m surprised you sent her to Ashams, you know,” I say. “A friend of mine reminded me about the bullying.” As soon as I’ve said it I regret it. It’s the Prosecco, taking the edge off my defenses. I push the glass away from me.
“What bullying?” Julia says, in a voice that’s almost level.
“I was talking to someone from my year. She said you were quite badly bullied. Sorry, I wasn’t going to mention it…” I wish I had just kept my mouth shut.
“I don’t like talking about it,” Julia says with a deep sigh. Nicole leans over and puts a hand on her arm. “I’ve left that all behind me. But yes, it was a very difficult time and my grades suffered. I don’t want to see Daisy go through the same thing. I just want her to be happy. I mean, really, the scholarship isn’t important in any way, not really. As long as she gets through to the senior school I’m absolutely fine with it.”
I catch Nicole’s eye. We’re clearly thinking the same thing. We don’t believe a word of it. Daisy has to be the best, or she’ll suffer for it.
31
I’m dressed for court and about to leave the house with Robin the following morning when I receive a message from Barbara. The prosecution has provided a second medical letter, and the complainant is still ill. Court has been adjourned until the following Monday. I’m not going to argue with the unexpected bon
us of a long weekend, spending time with Robin after her weekend with Andrew. I wonder if he might turn up again unannounced, and I feel a shiver of fear, but then I remember his last words to me before he left, that he wanted to see that we were doing OK without him. He gave no sign that he was planning to come back any time soon. I’m going to put him out of mind, at least for the next couple of days.
The forecast is good, and I want to tackle the garden and the ivy that grows uncontrolled up the front of the house, plant the bulbs I’ve been planning. Robin has been complaining more and more about the spiders that are finding their way into her bedroom in search of warmth—cutting the foliage back from around her window may be one way to deal with the issue.
I change quickly into jeans before taking Robin up to school. She’s quieter than usual.
“You OK?” I ask.
“I was just thinking about last night,” she says. “It was a bit weird how pushy Daisy’s mom was being with her.”
“I didn’t like it much. I know it’s important that you do your best, but it did feel quite full-on.”
“Daisy gets really stressed about it,” Robin says. “We were talking about it in the café at the start of the week.”
“Well, I promise I’m not going to go nuts. As I say, you keep doing your best.”
Before I can say any more, Nicole and Pippa have joined us. The girls run off together.
“Thank you for having us last night,” I say. “Lovely to sit and chat.”
“I’m so pleased you could come round,” Nicole says. “I’m sorry that it all got a bit strained. Julia is really bothered about the exams. Too much so. I do try and tell her to calm down, but she never listens to me.”
I look at her as she’s speaking, trying not to compare her with Julia in my mind. Nicole is small, mousy, a bit stooped; too ready to laugh at Julia’s jokes. Julia’s practically four-dimensional, crackling with energy. I’m not surprised that she won’t listen to Nicole.
“It’s Daisy I worry about, really. She must be under so much pressure. Pippa told me she’s been in tears quite a bit this term,” Nicole continues. “Julia is one of my best friends, but I do think she should dial it back a bit.”
“So you’ve tried talking to her about it?”
Nicole laughs, a short bark. “I did once, at the beginning of term. She nearly bit my head off. And then Robin and you appeared… Maybe you could try? She really likes you; she said so after you left.”
I feel surprised, but I’m not going to argue. Whether she likes me or not, I have no enthusiasm for the idea of talking to her, tackling her about the way she spoke to Daisy the night before.
Right then, Julia appears, Daisy behind her. Julia kisses both of us in greeting, while Daisy hovers in the background. She’s not looking well, bags under her eyes and her face pale and drawn. She shifts from foot to foot. Julia turns and looks at her.
“You’d better go in,” she says, “or you’ll be late. And remember, you need to do better today.”
Daisy nods, mute, and turns and runs into school.
I steel myself, open my mouth ready to say something, anything, in defense of the poor girl, but Julia pre-empts me.
“I bet you think I’m terrible,” she says, “but that girl really does need pushing. We’ve all got our own way of doing things. She’s not like your Robin—she doesn’t have any drive of her own. I have to make sure she keeps up to scratch.”
“She did seem very upset last night,” I say.
Julia looks at me, her eyes very blue and cold. “All families are different,” she says, in a way that shuts down any further reply.
“You do very well,” Nicole says, clearly deciding she’s going to calm down the situation.
Julia continues to look furious for a moment before her face softens. “You’ve only just got here,” she says to me. “You haven’t got it yet, the pressures of the senior school exam. It’s not like it was in our day. When you do get it, you’ll understand why we have to push them so hard.”
“I know we’re very new to this,” I say.
“You are. But you’ll understand soon enough. Look, why don’t you all come to mine tonight? The girls can do their homework together, then watch a movie; we can have a chat, and we’ll make sure there’s no upsets. Not like last night.”
I should be thrilled by the invitation. Back into the inner sanctum, an opportunity for me fully to redeem myself after the humiliation of the first time I went to Julia’s house, a time that feels light years away. But I can’t face it. The night I have planned involves pizza and a film, and I have no intention of giving up on this idea.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “That does sound lovely. But Robin and I have plans for this evening already. Another time, definitely.”
“What plans?” Julia begins to say, but her phone starts ringing and she has to answer it, barking instructions down the handset at whatever unfortunate is at the other end. I seize the opportunity and run away.
After a day spent happily hacking down plants, I arrive early to collect Robin, planning to scoop her up and run before Julia can push the invitation on us again. When I see Nicole in the distance my heart sinks, thinking it’s no use, but I pretend to be engrossed in my phone. Fortunately, Robin comes out on her own, one of the first girls to leave. I grab her hand and we get to the bus stop as fast as we can. I explain the plans for the evening somewhat breathlessly to Robin as we go.
“Are you happy with that?” I ask as we sit down on the bus. Robin doesn’t reply, leans her head against my shoulder. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
32
Saturday morning.
I wake up, tangled in the duvet. Hot, sweating. The phone is ringing. I fumble through the bedclothes and track it down. It stops ringing as I pick it up, but starts again. Nicole.
“Jesus Christ, you have to wake up, please wake up. Something terrible has happened, something terrible.” Nicole is shouting down the phone, her words almost incoherent, she’s talking so fast, sobbing, her voice shaking.
“What’s going on?” I say, pushing myself upright in bed.
“It’s Daisy,” Nicole says, howling.
“What’s Daisy?”
“She won’t wake up. Julia tried, I tried. But she won’t wake up. The ambulance is on the way. Please come. You have to come. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
The phone goes dead. I’m fully awake now. It’s later than I thought—nearly eight o’clock. I leap out of bed and throw on some clothes. Nicole’s distress is contagious—all my reservations about Julia are on hold; she needs my help, and I’m going to give it. Robin is fast asleep and for a brief moment I wonder if it would be safe to leave her, shield her from the situation, but I put the thought out of my head. She might be sensible, but she’s far too young. Andrew, too—what if he comes back when I’m not there? I wake her up and tell her to dress, and we run out of the house.
Before we reach the bus stop, I see a black cab, its light on. I flag it down and we get in. I push my hands hard down against the seat to assert some control over myself, trying not to scream faster faster faster at the driver. I keep checking my phone, calling Nicole back every now and again to no avail.
At last we get to Julia’s street, a journey that feels as if it’s lasted hours, though in reality it was only fifteen minutes. We pull up on the other side of the road from the house, the same spot that the taxi dropped me all those weeks ago when I went to the party. I remember Daisy at the front door, so careful to establish that I was a proper guest, and the thought of that earnest little girl, her tight smile, sends a pang straight through me.
There’s an ambulance directly outside Julia’s house. The front door is wide open. I reach out for Robin’s hand, her fingers cold, gripping hard to mine. We cross the road together. People start to appear out of the front door. Two paramedics carrying a stretcher between them, a man at the front, a woman at the back. For a moment, it looks as though the stretcher is empty, and th
e band of fear round my temples loosens its grip, but it takes hold again tenfold when I spot the small face, pale above the blanket wrapping the body. Daisy’s face. At least not a body. Her face would be covered. Surely her face would be covered.
Robin sees Daisy at the same time and cries out. I pull her in closer and together we watch as the stretcher is placed inside the ambulance. When it’s safely in, the male paramedic closes the door, leaving the woman inside with Daisy. Then he gets into the driver’s seat and sets off, sirens wailing.
“Where’s Daisy’s mom?” Robin says. “Why isn’t she with Daisy?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. She’ll be going on soon after, I’m sure,” I say, trying to sound reassuring, though it’s far from how I feel.
I’m transfixed by the car that’s parked outside Julia’s house, revealed by the departure of the ambulance. A police car. No one inside. I might not know for certain why Julia hasn’t been able to go with Daisy, but I have a sinking feeling that this might well provide the explanation.
Slowly, we make our way up the steps to the front door. I come to a standstill, Robin pinned to my side. There’s darkness in that house, I can feel it beating its way out. We could leave now.
“Sadie, Sadie!” Nicole’s voice cries out from inside. “Sadie, thank God you’re here. It’s terrible. Come in.”
My desire to leave passes. Nicole’s crying, tears streaming down her face. I can’t leave her to cope with this on her own. Whatever “this” is. I loosen my hold on Robin.
Together, we step into the house.
Nicole’s hovering by the drawing-room door, Pippa at her side. The place feels very different now; the gilt has worn off. The door is shut, and there’s a rumbling of voices.
“It’s the police,” Nicole says, speaking so quietly that I strain to hear her. She repeats herself, mouthing the words in an exaggerated way. “The police.”
