The light flickered and she looked up at the large lamp. The paint on the ceiling was peeling off in big sheets that curled on themselves, causing the ceiling to look as if it had scales. The thought made her smile, although she didn’t know why.
‘How long has it been on the market?’ John was asking. ‘Six months?’
‘Just under.’ Alexandra’s voice echoed in the empty hallway. ‘And there’s a lot of interest.’ She pulled her ponytail over her shoulder and played with her hair, twirling strands of golden locks round her fingers. ‘A house of this size, in this location, doesn’t come on the market very often. It’s attracting a lot of attention.’
‘Yeah? So, you have more people coming to see it?’
Alexandra’s cheeks turned red and Bea almost sniggered. ‘I don’t have any appointments set up. Yet. But there’s been a lot of traffic. People love it.’
‘But nobody has made an offer.’ John’s eyebrows were raised and Bea could see a mischievous glint in his eye.
‘Not yet, but, believe me, there will be multiple offers.’
‘Just not yet.’ John turned and walked towards one of the doorways. ‘Let’s see this old girl.’
Alexandra’s stilettos clicked against the tiles as she practically ran after him. Bea followed, looking round, lost in her memories. The sitting room was devoid of furniture. The fireplace looked small against the expanse of empty wall. She remembered the horrible landscapes that Miriam would paint and hang on the walls, covering every square inch with muted blues, depressing blacks, nauseating greens. ‘She’s made another one,’ one of the children would say and they’d all sneak into the sitting room to check out the newest addition to the wall coverings. They’d snigger as they critiqued the brush strokes, the colour mix, the choice of frame, something gaudy that would have looked in place in Dracula’s castle.
Next came the kitchen. It was cold, the window wide open. Bea wrinkled her nose. There was a stale smell that had not evaporated despite Alexandra’s attempts to air the place out. The only thing that she had succeeded in doing was turn the kitchen into an ice box. Bea wondered how she was not freezing in her seasonally unsuitable dress.
Bea looked around at the yellowing cabinets, the now-empty rack where Miriam had hung the pots and pans. That way they’d been easily accessible whenever she’d needed to reach out for her weapon of choice. Bea wanted to pull the rack down, take a sledgehammer to it. Destroy it.
The kitchen table was gone and she stared at the hexagonal design of the tiles. She remembered following their outline, trying to focus on their shape, as she waited for the next strike. She looked for the familiar chip in the corner of one of the tiles. Miriam had been in the middle of a beating when she’d lost her grip. She’d been becoming more unsteady by the day, the constant tremble causing her to drop stuff. She’d curse under her breath, scream at them if she caught them staring. The pan had flown out of her hand and landed on the ground with a thud and a crack. ‘Look what you’ve made me do, you bunch of losers, you horrible children. This is why nobody wants you, this is why you’re here. I’m the only one who will tolerate your presence. Nobody else will lift a finger to make sure that you live. Nobody else cares for you.’
Despite the years that had passed, the different life Bea now had, the words still stung. She remembered the feelings of helplessness, the fear, the hurt that had engulfed her when Miriam had spoken that way. It had hurt, because in a way it had been true. Miriam had been the only person who had stepped forward to take them in. Their families had been nowhere to be found, too busy with their own children to take in more. Friends had turned their backs. Doors had been slammed in their faces.
‘Let’s take a look outside,’ she heard John say.
‘The garden is a little overgrown so it’s not easy to manoeuvre,’ Alexandra said as she walked towards the small window over the sink. ‘We can take a look from here.’
‘I’m sure we’ll manage,’ John responded, already turning towards the door. ‘But you’re certainly not dressed warm enough for this weather. You wait inside, try to keep warm, while me and my friend take a look outside.’
‘No, no, I’ll be fine,’ Alexandra said, following him.
John turned round, coming face to face with the estate agent. He lifted his hands and put them on her arms, rubbing them up and down. ‘I insist.’ His voice was low, husky. ‘You wait in here and we’ll be back shortly.’
He held the door open for Bea. ‘Be careful,’ he said as she walked past him, stepping down into the jungle-looking expanse. Shrubs were spilling onto the walkways, weeds growing tall and wild. One side of the house was covered in pigeon droppings, layers and layers of them. The garden used to be well kept, volunteers coming on weekends to mow the lawn, trim the hedges, make sure that the children had a decent outside space where they could play even though they’d rarely ventured into the garden. Miriam had always forbidden it. It had been either too cold or too hot and when the weather had been perfect, one or all of them would have done something wrong and needed to be punished. They’d look longingly out of the window, craving fresh air, to be away from the suffocating house, but knowing that they had no chance of getting outside.
‘That’s where it was.’ John nodded towards a corner of the garden. The bushes lining the house had grown outward, covering the sandpit. They both walked towards it, Bea looking carefully at the ground in front of her, making sure she didn’t trip. She hurried her step to keep up with John, knowing that there was no time to waste, every second was precious.
John squatted next to it and put his hand through the twisted twigs. ‘I can feel the sand. It’s still there,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t remember which side he hid it. I wasn’t looking. I was too busy keeping an eye out for that bitch.’
Bea squatted next to John, putting one hand on his shoulder to steady herself, smiling when he covered her hand with his, squeezing slightly. He let it go and continued his gentle probing of the unseen ground beneath the greenery.
‘Is everything OK?’ The voice behind them startled Bea and both John and she stood up too quickly. Her legs felt like jelly and she was grateful for John’s strong arm around her waist, keeping her stable, making sure she didn’t topple forward.
‘Yes, of course,’ he said, his voice steady. ‘We were just wondering what’s under here.’
Alexandra narrowed her eyes as she looked behind them. ‘I’m not sure. Probably a flower bed. This garden is enormous and I’m sure a good landscaper will bring it back to life. It will be lovely.’
‘I’d still like to know what’s underneath.’ John turned back towards the covered sandpit. ‘Do you mind if I take a better look?’
Bea held her breath, looking right at Alexandra, seeing her clench her jaw, narrow her eyes even further. ‘Well, unfortunately I do need to go. I have another viewing a few miles away so we need to wrap up here.’ She paused and looked right at John. ‘Of course, if you’re interested in making an offer…’
‘I like to be sure what I’m buying before I do that,’ he said. ‘But I certainly don’t want to keep you here. Why don’t you go along? We could always stay on, close the door behind us. It’s not like there’s anything to steal in here.’ He winked at her, cocking his head to one side and spreading his mouth into a grin.
Alexandra bit her lip, her pearly white teeth contrasting against her red lipstick. Bea mentally crossed her fingers, urging the estate agent to accommodate John’s request. But common sense must have prevailed and she shook her head. ‘No, I can’t do that. I’d get into so much trouble if something happened. I need to lock up properly.’ She looked at her watch and Bea noticed the goosebumps all over her arms and almost sniggered. She should have worn warmer clothes, something appropriate for British winters. ‘Perhaps I can stay for another few minutes.’
But John shook his head. ‘That’s OK,’ he said, already striding towards the door.
What the hell are you doing? Bea thought. She wanted to grab his a
rm and drag him back towards the sandpit.
But John was already inside. Bea followed, her heart sinking at the wasted mission. Inside the kitchen, John leaned against the counter, seemingly unperturbed that the dirty counters would ruin his perfect clothes. ‘Are the owners willing to negotiate?’ he asked.
‘Yes, they’re very keen to sell,’ Alexandra answered. Bea could see her eagerness increase. John was just being cruel, raising her hopes for nothing, making her think that he was about to make an offer.
‘This place has some potential, but it’s a complete mess,’ he said. ‘Everything is old and, to be honest, disgusting. It’s a complete gut job, inside and out. That garden is a nightmare.’ He stopped for a moment and she stared at Alexandra’s face, wanting to see her expression when he told her he was not interested, wished her luck selling this crumbling house.
‘I have a meeting after this,’ he continued. ‘But when I get to the office later, I’ll crunch the numbers. You’ll have an offer from me before end of day.’
And with that, he straightened up and strode out of the kitchen, leaving Bea to stare after him incredulously.
23
The email arrived early in the afternoon. Sandra was about to leave to pick Julia up from nursery. She was exhausted as she had been out all morning shopping. First it was the supermarket, making sure that she got all the groceries she needed for the whole week. Louis had been sceptical when she’d insisted on an extra big fridge and a second freezer when they’d redone their kitchen just before Julia was born. ‘It’s not as if we’re feeding the troops,’ he’d said. But she’d held her ground, telling him it would make her life so much easier, until he’d finally relented.
And now, every time one of her friends complained about their tiny refrigerator, a wave of satisfaction would wash over her. Even though it meant that her supermarket runs took forever and her car would be laden with bags.
After unloading everything and putting away the perishables, she’d rushed back out and hit the stores. Julia needed new clothes. She was growing quickly and becoming even more messy. Sandra had rifled through the racks, picking up shirts and leggings, anything that looked comfortable, and a few things that might not be practical but were adorable.
She hadn’t even had time to eat properly, nibbling at a few crackers while she’d put away the rest of the groceries from the morning. Bags of crisps, packets of crackers, juice boxes, bottles of condiments. At least having something to do kept her from dwelling on Miriam, worrying how much she’d remembered, whether they were in real danger of being found out. Her heart would speed up whenever she thought about it and she feared she was about to collapse.
What was Louis going to think? He’d be furious, for sure. She’d hinted at times that life with Miriam was not perfect, but hadn’t gone into details, had never told him about the beatings, the constant threats. And certainly she had not told him about their plan, what they had been doing. He would be horrified, not want anything to do with her.
She shook her head, trying to banish the thoughts. She wouldn’t think about this unless she absolutely had to. There was no way she’d tell Louis, put their marriage in jeopardy, potentially risk losing the children, unless it was necessary.
Sandra picked up her phone and opened the mailbox. There was a flutter in her stomach when she saw John’s name and her hands trembled with anticipation as she opened the email.
I have some news to share. Let’s meet at my place at 7 p.m. to discuss.
Putting the phone down on the kitchen counter, Sandra sighed deeply. How was she going to manage this? Her eyes flew open and she took deep breaths through her nose and out from her mouth. Once, twice, three times, trying to calm down. She needed more time to make plans, to call a sitter. She’d need to leave at least a half-hour earlier and Louis wouldn’t be home yet. She’d have to prepare dinner, make sure that Julia was ready for bed, that the older children finished their homework and didn’t spend the evening glued to the TV. No, it just wasn’t possible. She couldn’t go.
But she had to know what was happening. Quickly, she picked her phone back up and typed onto the screen, bringing up a phone number and making the call.
‘Oh, hello, Rachel,’ she said when the other line picked up. ‘I know this is so short notice, but do you think you can come over for a few hours tonight? Something came up at the last minute and I’m hoping you could help.’
‘What time?’ the voice on the other end asked.
‘How about five-thirty? Louis should be back by eight at the latest, so you don’t need to stay later. But, of course, we’ll pay for three hours minimum.’
‘That works for me. I’ll see you then.’
Closing her eyes tightly, Sandra sighed in relief. Then, looking at the microwave clock, she groaned. She was running late. She’d tell Louis about her plans later. Now, she had to rush to get Julia.
24
Thursdays tended to be busy days at the office, everyone scrambling to get work done to ensure they weren’t too inundated the following day. They always ended up working late and Laurence often suggested going out for drinks or dinner afterwards.
‘I’m leaving in fifteen minutes.’ Bea popped her head into Laurence’s office just before 6 p.m. She wanted to have some time to go to the bathroom and freshen up. Her habit of running her fingers through her hair, twirling the strands round her forefinger, turned it into a messy nest and she wanted to tame it back into the neat bun she had left home with this morning.
‘Already?’ Laurence said, looking at his watch, his face etched with incredulity. ‘It’s unusual for you to leave before everyone else.’
She bowed her head and looked down, trying to avoid his gaze, as she started munching on her lip. An unexpected wave of guilt washed over her. Perhaps she should have suggested a later meeting. She already felt bad for leaving the office to accompany John to the house.
But then she remembered all the times she had dropped whatever she was doing, changed her plans, because of work. Tonight’s meeting was important even though she was already privy to the news John was going to share.
‘I have to meet some people tonight, that’s why I’m leaving a little early,’ she responded. ‘But I’ve finished everything I needed to do and I’ll come in early tomorrow to catch up on any loose ends.’
Laurence smiled and shook his head. ‘I wasn’t being critical, just surprised. You never leave early, especially to go out. Who are you meeting? Anyone I know?’
Closing the door behind her, Bea walked into his office and took a seat across from him, leaning back in the comfortable chair. Inhaling deeply, she puffed out her cheeks, letting the air escape slowly through her mouth. She wished she could tell him about the years under Miriam’s care, what the abuse had driven them to do, and how, even all these years later, Miriam still had a vice-like grip on their lives. She longed for someone to tell her that everything was going to be all right, that they wouldn’t get caught. That after they had managed to claw their way out from the pits, their lives wouldn’t be ruined.
‘I’m meeting some people from the past. The children I lived with, who were in the van when we had the accident,’ she started. ‘Well, we’re not children any more, but you know what I mean.’
‘Wow, you’ve reconnected! That’s awesome news.’ Laurence sat forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on Bea’s face, his mouth slightly open, eager for more information. ‘I bet you have a lot to catch up on.’
She shrugged, knowing that she couldn’t share much but at the same time not wanting to skirt the truth. ‘It’s been almost thirty years. It’s good to see them again. We have shared history.’
‘Totally. How do they feel about the driver of the lorry being found? Are they excited for the trial?’
‘Well, excited isn’t really how I would describe it.’ Laurence’s eyes narrowed in concentration and she continued. ‘It’s been such a long time. We all moved on, built our lives, tried hard to put it behind us. While it’
s positive that the police tracked him down, that he’s finally going to face justice, hopefully pay for what he did, it still brings up a lot of difficult memories.’
Taking a pause, she looked at Laurence, hoping that her explanation sufficed. That he would say something to reassure her, even though she herself was not sure what she was expecting from someone who didn’t know the full story. But he was still leaning forward, his elbows on his desk, his hands clasped together in front of him.
‘It’s just a lot of emotions coming back. Not only were we in that bad accident, but we were all separated, sent to live in different homes. It was… I don’t know… rough, I guess.’
‘So, you should be even more grateful that they caught him. It’s what brought you together again.’
‘Yes, I guess so. It’s a good thing, don’t get me wrong, but it does bring up memories that should remain forgotten.’ She chewed at her lip for a few seconds, thinking about Miriam, wondering how much she remembered. ‘The police are asking for information about the accident, how it impacted our lives, wanting details to strengthen their case. But for us it’s reliving a horrible time in our lives, a very painful experience – both physically and mentally.’
Laurence nodded his head slightly, almost as if he was trying to make sense of what Bea had told him.
‘OK, I’d better get going.’ Bea stood up and pushed the chair closer to the desk, making sure it was perfectly in the centre. ‘Call me if there’s anything urgent, and if not I’ll see you tomorrow.’
We All Fall Down Page 14
