Lost and Found

by Natasha West

  April couldn’t be part of this family again; she’d go mad. But she still wanted to hang onto her life. If there was any chance of that, she’d keep her mother talking. What April was hoping to achieve, she didn’t know. All she knew was that her mother didn’t think it was over yet, and that meant there was a sliver of light coming out of the darkness, a chance. April would hold onto it until the final moment. Because even that small chance, it sparked something in April. Hope. Her gift from Sophie. It existed still, even in this place.

  ‘But won’t I go to prison for perjury?’ she asked.

  ‘We’ve talked to the solicitor about that too. He reckons as long as your brother speaks up for you after his release, says he forgives you, which I’ll tell him to do, we can keep you out.’

  April tried to look thoughtful, as though she were considering the deal. But all she was considering was how to keep this going until she could either figure a way out or something external happened to save her. The cops had been outside all day from what she could gather. They still might find her if she could only keep herself alive.

  The problem was, her family weren’t as stupid as Kenny. The things April had done to get away from him would come up distinctly short in this garage.

  ‘So what happens when Ian comes out?’ April asked.

  ‘How do you mean?’ her mother asked.

  ‘I put him in prison for four years, and we’re both just going to move back in like that didn’t happen?’ April asked.

  ‘He’ll forgive you if I tell him to,’ Marla said confidently.

  ‘I’m not so sure about that,’ April replied. ‘I mean, Steve hasn’t forgiven me, have you?’ she said, turning to her oldest brother.

  Marla flicked a look at Steve. ‘What have you been saying?’ she asked him.

  ‘Nothing that’s not true,’ Steve said anxiously.

  ‘Didn’t you hear what I just said?’ Marla snapped. ‘We’re sorting this out. All of us.’

  Steve shook his head. ‘You can’t just tell people to feel alright about something like this. It doesn’t work like that, Mum. If you’ve decided to have her back, I’ll go along with that. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it.’

  Marla and Steve glared at each other. April saw that weakness had been created. No, found. It was already there. This wasn’t as cut and dried as her mother wanted it to be. There were resentments bubbling underneath all this. And though April had been out of the loop for a while, she still knew a thing or two about the machinations of this family. Which included a few obvious things about her younger brother, aka Mummy’s Boy, a nickname just about everyone used behind his back.

  ‘Ryan, I don’t suppose anyone’s gonna ask what you think, so I will. You alright with me moving back in after what I’ve done?’ April asked him.

  Ryan looked surprised. ‘What?’

  Marla raised a sharp eyebrow at April. ‘Leave him alone.’

  Ryan turned to his mother, hurt. ‘Why can’t I be part of this?’

  ‘You are part of this,’ Marla said. ‘I just assumed you’d be alright about my decision.’

  ‘Why would you assume that?’ Ryan asked defensively.

  ‘Well…’ Marla said, and April could see she was trying to be careful. But April knew that if she was blunt about it, what she’d say was, ‘You’ll do exactly what I say and be happy about it because that’s what you do.’ What she actually said was, ‘Because you’re not one to make a fuss.’

  April watched Ryan carefully, and she could see he knew what his mother was really saying. But of course, he’d never want to make his mother angry at him, so he said, ‘It would just be nice to be consulted occasionally. I’m always being left out of this stuff.’

  Steve rolled his eyes. ‘We haven’t got time for this crap, Ryan. Just let us sort this, and we’ll be sure to get your approval for all future business. Alright?’

  Ryan, a lot less concerned about offending his big brother, let a bit of anger slip out. ‘Fuck off, alright? I’m not the one that was stupid enough to think she’d never figure out what was going on. You were asking for this!’

  Steve put both hands on his knees and leaned toward his brother. Though Steve was sat, and Ryan was stood, Ryan still shrank a bit at the menace in his pose. ‘That wasn’t my decision alone. Me, Mum, Ian, we decided all that a long time ago, before you got your first pube. So don’t start trying to tell us what’s what, you little prick!’

  Marla gave a long-suffering groan and stood, looking back and forth between her sons. ‘God sake, pack it in, you two! We’ve got bigger fish here!’

  Ryan and Steve looked at Marla. ‘Sorry, Mum,’ Ryan mumbled. ‘Yeah,’ Steve said and sat back in his chair. Marla sat down and looked back at April. ‘Right, so we were discussing the terms of you coming back.’

  ‘What terms?’ April asked. ‘I do what you say, or I die in this garage, right?’ she finished shakily. However tactful her mother was attempting to be, this was the thing that had been sitting at the back of all this. Not just today, but since the funeral. Talking about it was horrifying for April. But words were all April had left. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? That’s what happens if I say no to you?’

  Her mother’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘Oh, darling. Don’t say things like that. It’s not going to come to anything like that, because we’re going to figure out that it doesn’t need to, aren’t we?’

  So there it was. Said but not said. April pushed through her fear. ‘You’ve already got it figured out. So what am I going to say except yes?’

  Marla gave a sad smile. ‘That’s the thing, love. You’re going to need to convince me more than that. You’ve lied in the past.’

  April felt a burning in her chest. ‘I didn’t lie. I never lied.’

  ‘You lied by pretending everything was OK. Until you snuck away from us.’

  ‘That’s nothing compared to the lies you told me my entire life.’

  ‘I kept things from you that I knew you weren’t strong enough to take!’ her mother said.

  April narrowed her eyes at her mother, and suddenly, she wasn’t scared, she was just angry, angry enough to forget the risks of honesty. ‘You don’t know who I am. You never did. But I was stupid enough to let you tell me who I was anyway. Well, I’ve been without you for a long time now, and I’ve learned things about myself I never would have known if I’d stayed here.’

  ‘And what things are those?’ Marla asked, her mouth pinched.

  ‘That the last thing I am is weak,’ April spat.

  Marla leaned forward and examined her daughter. ‘No,’ she said with a cock of her head. ‘You’re not, are you? I see it now. Look at you. You’re a grown woman.’ She took a long pause that April didn’t like before she said, ‘That worries me a bit, actually. I can’t lie.’

  ‘What does?’ April asked tensely.

  ‘That you’re not my little girl anymore,’ Marla said. ‘You got away from Kenny twice. I mean, he’s not the sharpest tool in the box, but… it does give me pause, I’ve got to say.’

  April struggled a smile onto her face. ‘It shouldn’t. I mean, isn’t that what you want? For me to be like my brothers. Like you?’

  Marla chewed that over. ‘That’s the thing. You’re not quite like us, are you? You’ve got ideas I never gave you. Your view of what’s right and what’s wrong is pretty backwards, from what I can tell.’

  ‘Backwards?’ April repeated.

  ‘You chose to put your brother in prison and if you’d had your way, all the rest of us.’

  A light went on in April’s head. There was something she could say to sway her mother. It would sicken her to say it. But it could work. ‘I did do that. But maybe not for the reason you think.’

  ‘Oh?’ Marla asked, intrigued.

  April manufactured a bitter chuckle. ‘Maybe I was just pissed off because you kept me in the dark. Maybe I didn’t like feeling like a fool. You ever think of that?’

  Marla cocked her head, marvell
ing. ‘Are you saying you did this out of some… snit? Because we kept you out of things?’

  April sneered. ‘No one likes to be made a mug of, Mum. I mean, how would you feel if these two,’ April gestured at her brothers, ‘had some little scheme on the go behind your back?’

  Steve jumped in, diverging quickly around the mild threat to his loyalty, saying, ‘Hang on a minute. I hope you’re not buying this, Mum? She wasn’t doing this to get your attention. She was being a goody-two-shoes. We all know that.’

  Marla held up a hand to silence him. ‘Don’t tell me what to believe, son.’

  Ryan finally piped up. ‘What would it matter anyway? She did what she did. Don’t matter what for. She can’t be trusted.’ He looked at his brother. ‘Right?’ Steve, finally in accord with Ryan, nodded. ‘Right.’

  Marla picked up her knitting bag and pulled out an almost completed purple jumper. She set to work for a moment, and everyone waited while stitch by stitch, her sharp little needles worked away. ‘You know, April, I didn’t choose this life. I married your dad, and I knew he was into a few things my mother would never have approved of, but I didn’t mind because he put food on the table and kept a roof over our heads. And then he had a heart attack, and there was no one to do those things anymore. Except me. So I picked up where he left off, despite it being a man’s world, and I kept that roof paid for, that food in your bellies. It turned out I was even better at it than your father was. In time, the business grew, and my boys joined me. And then everyone in the extended family found a fit. We created our own world, and that world protected you for a long time. Until you cast it off.’

  Marla stopped for a moment to deal with a tricky stitch, but April knew better than to respond, that her mother was by no means finished. Sure enough… ‘You’ll never know how much that hurt. Because I did everything I could to make your life comfortable and safe because that was what I thought you needed. Not to see certain things, things that have to be done sometimes to keep our world ticking along. And it grieved me when you found out the way you did, but I didn’t give up. I still tried to protect you. But I really didn’t think you’d ever see things my way, our way. You were always so sensitive.’

  Marla attacked another stitch, and then it seemed, her work was done. She held up the finished jumper. ‘I knitted this for you, started it just before you left, and then I stopped. I started it back up again recently like I knew you were coming home. And here you are.’ She stood and went to April, unlocking the chain on her wrist with a key from her bag. Once April was free, her mother pulled the jumper over April’s head. April raised her arms like a child, submitting to the clothing. Marla stood back to admire her work. ‘Lovely fit. You’ve really gotten your curves, haven’t you?’

  ‘A lot has happened since I saw you last, yes,’ April said.

  ‘That’s right. For me too. But you? You’ve gone from a girl to a woman. I thought that might take a long time, but here you are. Done.’ She looked at the boys. ‘I’ve changed my mind about some things.’ Everyone waited for her verdict, tensely. ‘April’s been away, and we’ve all got to catch up. But I don’t think she needs to be out in the cold anymore. I don’t think it needs to be like it was. I think she could be of a lot more use to the family now.’

  April was struck dumb. She’d just been vamping, playing for time. Her success shocked her. Not only were they not going to kill her, but her mother wanted to employ her in the family enterprise.

  ‘You’re fucking joking,’ Steve said. ‘You want her in the business? Are you mad, woman?!’

  Marla struck Steve around the mouth. He cried out in pain. ‘Ow, Mum, Jesus.’

  Ryan didn’t care about the slap at all; he was looked at April with rage in his eyes. ‘What’s she gonna be doing? She’s not gonna do stuff I don’t do, is she?’

  Marla tutted at Ryan. ‘Leave off. That’s it now, decision made. April?’

  April looked at her mother in wide-eyed alarm. ‘Yes?’

  ‘There’s a little chip shop we own on Smith Street. I think the owner needs some help seeing that it’s in his best interests to house certain shipments for us in the back. Do you think you could talk to him, oversee the operation?’

  As a matter of fact, no, April didn’t think she could put the squeeze on some poor fry cook to house what was probably heroin. But her life depended on giving the right answer, and she said, ‘Yeah. I think I can.’

  Marla nodded. ‘Good, because it’s coming in tomorrow at nine and I’ve told them to bring it straight there. You can have a chat with the cook and then be there to meet my driver, alright? Should be a simple way for you to cut your teeth.’

  April smiled like ‘Yeah, take possession of illegal narcotics? No sweat.’

  That bit of business done with, Marla put her arms out to her children. ‘Now we hug. And the healing begins.’ No one moved, Steve, Ryan, and April all eyeing each other warily. ‘I said the healing begins!’ Marla barked. Everyone shuffled in. April felt the hands of her brothers and her mother on her back as the world’s worst group hug took place. She wanted to scream. And she still didn’t really believe she was safe; her brothers were still so angry. She needed something, an insurance policy. At least until she was out of this terrible garage.

  Her mother said into her ear, ‘You’re tense, love. Aren’t you happy?’

  April looked at her mother over Ryan’s head. ‘Yeah. Never happier.’

  ‘You sure this is what you want?’ she pressed.

  ‘Yep,’ April said.

  Her mother’s smile faded. ‘So why did I just see you put one of my knitting needles in your back pocket.’

  Shit.

  The hug broke at speed, and everyone backed up. Steve produced a knife and said, ‘See? I fucking knew it.’

  Marla shook her head with the deepest sorrow and said, ‘OK, Steve. You win. You win, son.’

  April grabbed the knitting needle out of her pocket and prepared herself for whatever her mother meant by giving Steve his win. He took one step toward her, a horrid glint in his eye, and April braced herself.

  And then there was a knock on the garage door.

  Thirty-Three

  Sophie arrived at Jackson Road with no clear plan. It was lunchtime now, and the street was seemingly reset, people pottering about, window cleaners at work, mail being delivered. Life was going on.

  Sophie looked up and down the street, wondering what she should do, how she should approach this. The first time she’d tried to intimidate for answers hadn’t gone so well. But she didn’t know what else to do. Every moment that passed, April felt further away. So Sophie went up to number twelve and rang the doorbell. She was going to beg them not to hurt her. It was a bad plan; she knew that. But she did it anyway. She stood terrified as she waited for one of the inhabitants to answer. She half thought she’d get dragged in and pummelled. But that didn’t happen, because no one was in.

  She stood back from the door to see if anyone had left a window open. Maybe she could get in, search the place, find something the cops hadn’t, a clue. Again, bad plan. Again, all she had. But there was no window open. She looked around her and saw several promising rocks, but that was no good because it would be loud, people would hear and come running.

  Sophie stepped out of the gate and walked down the street, past the house where the woman who’d attacked her lived. Sophie only realised that as she was passing the gate and she happened to glance over. She was shocked to see her attacker standing at the living room window. For a moment, Sophie thought she was going to come running out for round two, but the woman didn’t move. She just stared. Sophie began to walk on when the woman held a hand up and shook her head. She didn’t look angry; she looked nervous. Sophie stopped, intrigued. The woman mouthed something through the window. Sophie watched her, confused. The woman mouthed it again, a word or short phrase. Sophie had never been a strong lip reader, and she watched her do it three times before deciding that it looked like she was saying, ‘Fuck
it.’

  Sophie frowned and mouthed back, ‘What?’

  The woman rolled her eyes and said the word one more time, this time adding a mime. Sophie’s brain exploded. She nodded at the woman and walked off down the street, making sure no one saw as she acted on the word the woman had shown her with that hand gesture, reaching into her jeans. She hadn’t been saying, ‘Fuck it.’ The word had been, ‘Pocket.’

  At the corner of the street, Sophie reached into her own coat pocket and pulled out what the woman had placed there during the fight that it turned out had been utterly staged to transfer something into Sophie’s possession. A scrap of paper. Written on it were the words, I’ve been waiting for someone to ask, glad you did. The garages on Presley Street, around the corner. Unit two. Don’t ever tell anyone about this.