Too Close to Home

by Susan Lewis

  She knew Charlotte’s mother had made her lunch because the neat, triangle-shaped sandwiches were wrapped in foil with a ribbon around, and the slice of homemade carrot cake that Charlotte very generously shared had been carefully protected by a pretty pink serviette.

  “By the way,” Paige said as they sheltered from the wind in the art room’s front porch, “I was chatting online with that Julie Morris again last night, and she said that Kelly Durham and the sickos used to pick on her. It’s why she won’t tell me who she is, because she doesn’t want them turning on her again. Apparently it happened before I started, but you were here then, so you might know who she is.”

  Charlotte was wrinkling her nose as she thought. “That cow of a slapper has picked on so many people,” she muttered. “She’s been doing it ever since we were at St. Cenydd’s primary, so it could be anyone. What else did Julie have to say?”

  “That it got worse after she reported them.”

  Charlotte stifled a sneeze. “Yeah, well, I don’t suppose that’s a big surprise. I take it they’re leaving her alone now.”

  “I think so.”

  “It’s what’ll happen with you. They’ll get fed up in the end and move on to somebody else. I just hope it’s not me, except they wouldn’t now that I’m kind of official with Liam.”

  Though Paige knew it wasn’t official at all, she let the delusion pass, since the last thing she wanted was to crush Charlotte’s hopes. In fact, Charlotte and Liam still hadn’t graduated beyond sexting and Snapchats, most of which made it pretty clear that he was only after one thing.

  “And what’s wrong with that?” Charlotte had laughed when Paige put it to her as gently as she could. “I don’t want to be a virgin all my life, that’s for sure.”

  “But wouldn’t you rather be in a proper relationship before you go all the way?”

  “What for? It’s supposed to be fun, something you get a kick out of, not get all hung up about.”

  “So you want to be one of those fifteen-year-old mothers living on benefits who wheel their pushchairs up and down Oxford Street?”

  “Stop! Who said anything about getting pregnant? We’ll use condoms, or I’ll go on the pill. I just want to have sex, Paige, not make a lifetime commitment, and I bet you’d give it up for Oliver if he asked.”

  Wondering if she would, Paige had simply sighed from the depths of her broken heart as she thought of him and Lindsay, and said, “Chance would be a fine thing.”

  She wasn’t going to tell Charlotte that she was still listening to his music all the time, watching his video, and reading his Facebook page. She actually felt like a stalker when she was doing it, but as long as he had no idea she was behaving like someone obsessed, she couldn’t see any harm in it. Admittedly, afterward she felt like a real saddo, and as big a loser as Kelly Durham kept saying she was.

  Still, for all anyone knew, she and Oliver actually might end up together. No one could say what the future held other than people like Jasmina, the clairvoyant she and Charlotte were going to see later on today, and wouldn’t it just be totally out there mega-awesome if she was told that Oliver Pryce was only waiting for her to be sixteen before asking her out?

  —

  Much later that afternoon Paige was sitting on a hand-shaped chair in Jasmina’s New Age emporium, located in a back lane of Mumbles, trying to calm her nerves as she waited for Charlotte to come back through the beaded curtain she’d disappeared behind about half an hour ago. She couldn’t hear anything going on through there, no voices or anything. There was only Indian-type music drifting and whining about the place, along with the tinkle of water fountains and smells of incense, herbs, and candle wax. There was a display case next to her full of crystals and charms and aromatherapy stuff, and the hundreds of books and CDs on the shelves were all about psychic development, meditation, and past lives. She wondered who or what she might have been in a past life, and if she was really interested to know. More pressing for her right now was finding out what might be about to happen in this one.

  Her nerves went off like a set of wind chimes as the curtain suddenly parted and Charlotte, all glittery-eyed and flushed in the cheeks, practically floated back in.

  “OMG,” she mouthed, coming to perch on the rocking chair next to Paige’s plastic hand. “She is totally amazing. She told me so much….She even gave me a message from my gran.”

  Since Charlotte’s gran had died six months ago, Paige was as spooked by that as she was awed. Would her grandpa come through and speak to her? She’d love it if he did, but she was sure it would terrify her too. “Did she tell you anything horrible?” she asked worriedly.

  “No, nothing. It was all like totally amazeballs. She said she could see I was romantically involved with someone whose name begins either with I or L—they look a bit similar, so she couldn’t quite tell. Anyway, it has to be Liam, obviously, because I don’t know anyone whose name begins with I. And anyway she said he was very good-looking and likes sports and music, so it’s definitely him. Oh yes, and she said it was up to me if I wanted the relationship to go any deeper.”

  Paige’s eyes rounded.

  “She saw you too,” Charlotte went on excitedly. “She said a friend beginning with P—she does a lot of letters—was going through a difficult time right now and I should stand by you. Obviously that goes—”

  They started at the gentle clatter of the curtain, and Paige felt her throat turning dry as the statuesque lady with silver wavy hair, eyes the same color as her aquamarine earrings and face as pale as the palest seashell, smiled warmly as she invited her in.

  Minutes later Paige was seated across a small square table from the woman, her hands resting palms up on a black velvet tablecloth, her courage flitting about like an overstressed bird. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to go through with this now; on the other hand, nothing in the world could drag her away.

  Cupping Paige’s hands in her own, Jasmina closed her eyes and let several moments pass as she picked up the vibe, or communed with the future, or whatever she was doing. “I sense some disquiet,” she said gently. She looked concerned. “You are not very happy at the moment.”

  Feeling instantly miserable, Paige said nothing.

  “There are people around you who are a negative force,” Jasmina continued. “I see the letters B and D and M…Yes, I’m definitely getting M. Does this mean anything to you?”

  Paige shook her head.

  Jasmina frowned. “It’s someone…older, I think. A relative, maybe?”

  Paige was still confused.

  “She’s stepping back now, but she’s not going away. There’s someone else here….You have a friend…except she or he is not a friend. You should beware of this person. I’m getting the letter J. Is this making any sense to you?”

  Certain she must be talking about Julie Morris, Paige said, “I think so. There’s this girl who’s contacted me online….”

  Jasmina considered it. “There’s good and bad with the letter J,” she decided. “A false friend, perhaps, and…What else does this letter mean to you?”

  Only able to think of her parents and Josh, Paige told her their names.

  Jasmina quietly absorbed the information. “Jenna is your mother,” she repeated carefully. “I sense that she is very worried at the moment.”

  “She’s always worried.”

  Jasmina smiled. “Like most mothers, mm? Her worry is very prominent here, but so is the J who means you harm….Actually, I’m getting the letter O.”

  Paige’s heart skipped a beat. “Oliver?” she whispered.

  Jasmina’s eyes closed again as she focused. “Who is this person?” she asked.

  “He’s just…someone I know.”

  “Have you had a falling-out with him? I can see a falling-out.”

  “But we haven’t even…Oh, maybe it’s Owen,” she said flatly.

  Jasmina neither confirmed nor denied it.

  Paige waited, willing her to see Oliver. Surely he
was there too—another O that had to be him.

  “I’m getting this M back again,” Jasmina eventually said. “She’s quite forcefully pushing her way through. There is tension here. A lot of tension.”

  Paige could only look at her.

  “Your mother is very upset about something….It could be you. I’m sure it’s you, but there’s more. Something to do with this M…Ah, the O is back. You said it was Owen? Is he a boyfriend you’ve broken up with?”

  “No. He’s…Owen’s gay.”

  Jasmina showed no response to that. “I see the false friend again. I can’t tell if it’s him, but it is clear that you shouldn’t trust this person. She, or he, is telling you things you want to hear, but they aren’t necessarily true.”

  Deciding to break all contact with Julie from now on, Paige said anxiously, “Am I ever going to have a boyfriend?”

  Jasmina broke into a smile. “I think there is someone you like,” she replied kindly. “Yes, there is. He’s very handsome, a little older than you, I think, and he likes music?”

  Paige’s heart was on fire. “Is he going to be my boyfriend?” she whispered shyly.

  “I’m not sure. He’s certainly there, but…Does his name begin with O?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Mm, then I would ask you to tread carefully, because there is certainly some negativity surrounding the letter O.”

  Paige’s eyes stung. This wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Why did Owen keep coming through and spoiling things?

  More quiet minutes passed as Jasmina held Paige’s hands steadily and murmured to herself. It wasn’t possible to make out what she was saying, until finally the words became clearer. “There is someone here—your grandfather, he says. He wants you to know he’s watching over you.”

  A tear dropped onto Paige’s cheek. She couldn’t bear that her grandfather was here but she couldn’t see him.

  “He’s saying that you must trust your mother.”

  “I do,” Paige whispered.

  “Your grandmother too.”

  Paige didn’t understand why he was saying that, because she definitely trusted them both.

  Jasmina shook her head slowly. “The situation at school,” she went on, “he’s saying you must not let it get out of hand.” Her eyes opened and came to rest on Paige’s, so tenderly and with such intensity that Paige had to look away. “Can I ask what is troubling you at school?” she said softly.

  Paige swallowed. “It’s just girls. They’re being mean to me, that’s all.”

  Jasmina continued to regard her. “If it’s worrying you, you need to tell someone. That is what your grandfather is saying.”

  Paige’s eyes went down as her throat tightened. “It’s all right,” she mumbled. “I can handle it.”

  Closing her hands around Paige’s, Jasmina said, “I think that’s all for today, but if you want to talk again, at any time, you know where I am.”

  “Thank you,” Paige murmured, trying not to be unnerved by the offer. What was the clairvoyant seeing that Paige might want to talk about in the future?

  “Don’t hide,” Jasmina told her, “and don’t listen to all the advice you get, especially when you know in your heart that it’s wrong.” She waited, as if making sure Paige had taken it in. “And look out for the false friend. She, he, is not someone you need in your life.”

  Minutes later Paige and Charlotte were walking away from the shop, down Newton Road toward the bay, oblivious to the world around them as they recounted everything they’d been told.

  “Mine was awful,” Paige wailed. “She’s really freaked me out about everything, especially Oliver.”

  “But it’s not Oliver, it’s Owen you have to watch out for,” Charlotte insisted. “And you knew that already.”

  “No I didn’t. I mean, yes, we’ve had a falling-out, but she said there’s some really negative stuff around him.”

  “So we just make sure we avoid him. And you’ve definitely got to tell that Julie Morris where to get off. I’ll bet it’s him.”

  “I’d think so too if she weren’t being so friendly.”

  “Paige, for God’s sake, you can’t stick up for her, not after this.”

  “No, I know. I just…Oh God, that woman told me so much, it’s going round and round in my head….I can’t remember it all now.”

  They turned onto the seafront, passing Patrick’s, where her parents had taken her for dinner on her fifteenth birthday, and on toward the pier and Verdis, where her dad sometimes took Josh and the twins on Saturdays while she and her mum had special time at a beauty salon or roaming the farmers’ market. She gazed out across the bay toward Swansea in the distance.

  “She kept on about my mum being worried,” she said, slowing to a stop, “and this M person pushing her way in….” Her face suddenly paled as a terrible thought crashed into her mind. “Oh my God,” she murmured shakily. “I said I didn’t know anyone whose name begins with M, but I do.” Her eyes went to Charlotte, wide and scared. “I have to get home,” she said urgently. “I have to speak to my mum.”

  Jenna was in the conservatory dining room, staring out at the dense, silvery sea mist rolling across the moor, closing in on the house, making everything disappear before her eyes.

  It felt like a metaphor for her life.

  Her cheeks were sallow, her eyes heavy with fatigue and pain. She felt drained, bewildered, the way she had after her father’s death, as though she had somehow slipped from the real world and become caught in a place that had no sense or reality. The feeling of loss was overwhelming. She wanted Jack, but she wanted her dad too, so much she could almost cry out for him. He would know what to do, how she should cope with this crisis—and that was all it was, surely, a crisis that would eventually resolve itself, and life would go on as before.

  Her mother was sitting at the table with Bena, empty cups of tea and plates of untouched biscuits in front of them. They were watching her and worrying, she could feel it, but she could think of no more to say. The past few hours had been spent talking things over and over, round and round in so many circles. Discussion was fruitless; everything depended on Jack changing his mind.

  That wasn’t going to happen.

  “There’s no point dragging it out,” he’d said when they’d talked this morning, “it’ll only make it harder. I’ll take some things with me today, after I’ve collected Josh and the twins from school.”

  “So you won’t stay for tea?” she’d asked, desperate for him to, while at the same time wanting to tell him to keep the hell away from her children.

  “I thought I’d take them to McDonald’s.”

  “What about Paige?”

  He hadn’t answered that, and she’d seen how anxious he was about breaking his news to his stepdaughter. Paige would know what betrayal was, would see his weakness and his failure to put his family first, would feel her mother’s devastation.

  He’d come back first thing this morning, not, as she’d told herself he would, to say he was making a terrible mistake, but to take Josh and the twins to school. Minutes after they’d gone she’d dumped his clothes on the drive and locked all the doors.

  She couldn’t remember now how he’d persuaded her to let him in when he’d come back. She’d watched him stuffing his clothes into the car, and then they were in the kitchen, talking, crying, holding each other tightly, as though neither of them could bear what was happening, though obviously he could. There had been bitterness and anger; she’d slapped his face, punched her fists into him, and collapsed on the floor in a hysterical state. He’d picked her up, carried her to the sofa, and brought her some tea.

  Her head ached now. Her eyes were raw, and her stomach kept crying out for food she knew she couldn’t eat. He’d told Bena and her mother himself when they’d turned up at their usual times. Bena’s sadness and disappointment that Jenna’s suspicions had proved right had brought yet more tears to Jenna’s eyes.

  “I’m going to be here for you,”
Bena had promised, in front of Jack. “I want you to know that no matter what, I won’t let you down.”

  Whether Jack had caught the barb Jenna had no idea. He’d shown no sign of it and had only thanked Bena as though she were doing him the favor, not Jenna.

  Her mother, who found it almost impossible to alter her schedule at any time, never mind at the last minute, had called the retirement home where she volunteered twice a week to tell them she wouldn’t be in today. Because she didn’t cry or shout or scream like other people, the terrible realization of what this was going to mean for her daughter and grandchildren was bottled up inside her. Watching her trying to cope was breaking Jenna’s heart all over again. She might show little emotion on the surface, but she had feelings like anyone else, and Jack’s betrayal, his desertion, was hurting her almost as much as it was Jenna.

  “You’re a married man,” she’d told Jack with her typical frankness, “and the father of four, which means you have responsibilities. I don’t understand how anything or anyone can be more important than that.”

  “Nothing is more important than them,” he’d assured her. “That’s why I’m doing this, because living a lie wouldn’t be right.”

  “That’s funny,” Jenna had shot back acidly, “you seem to have managed it without any trouble for the past year—and please spare me the line that you’re doing the right thing for us. What you’re doing is for you and her. We don’t matter anymore; you’re making that perfectly clear even if you’re too cowardly to admit it.”

  Had he responded to that? If he had, she’d forgotten now what he’d said. She only remembered how beaten and sorry he’d managed to look throughout much of the day—though whether sorry for himself or for what he was doing, she guessed only he knew. Probably both. She’d told him to go, several times, but he hadn’t listened, although the clothes she’d tossed into the drive remained in his car.

  She watched the magpies and gulls, oystercatchers and curlews, weaving in and out of the mist, and felt exhausted by so many surges of emotion: anger, panic, utter despair. Each outburst was leaving her more depleted than the last, and yet there still seemed energy for more. She was aware that she wasn’t handling things well, but she didn’t know how else to be, and did she really care? Even the thought of the children was sapping her now. How was she going to cope when they raced through the door demanding food, drinks, her attention, her love? She was sure that if there were a way to avoid them, she’d take it—then she’d despise herself for being so weak. She’d despise Jack more, but how was that going to help anything?