by Susan Lewis
After pouring them half a glass each, Jenna returned to the hob. “So how are things at school?” she asked.
“Same old,” Paige mumbled.
“Do you feel you’re on top of things?”
“I suppose so.”
Jenna opened a bag of grated cheese and added it to the eggs. She could feel her daughter’s tension as if it were tightening the air, trying to strangle her, and because of it she found herself struggling for something to say.
“Have you seen Dad?” Paige suddenly asked.
“Not since yesterday,” Jenna replied. “He came here. We had a few things to sort out.”
“Did you row?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“What about?”
Since she didn’t want Paige knowing anything about the company issues, Jenna said, “Nothing really. I mean, silly things.”
“Was it about me?”
Jenna’s eyes rounded. “Why would you think that?”
Paige’s face was pinched as she shrugged.
“No, we didn’t row about you,” Jenna told her.
Several minutes ticked by with lots of thundering about upstairs, an unwatched TV blaring from the sitting room, and Wills shouting at Josh to “come and look.” Jenna poured the omelette mixture into a pan and picked up the phone as it rang. After speaking to another mother about a birthday party after school next Thursday, she rang off. Moments later it rang again. This time it was Bena. The call was short and left Jenna feeling wearier than ever.
“Apparently Aiden’s got nits,” she told Paige. “That means we’ll have to check Josh and the twins tonight.”
“What do you mean, we? That’s Dad’s job, get him to do it.”
“Dad’s not here, is he, and it has to be done.”
“But it’s not up to me…”
“I need your help. Will you get that, please?” she added as the phone rang again.
Paige picked it up, listened to the person at the other end, and said, “No, we don’t need new windows, but if you’re any good at finding nits…”
As she hung up Jenna smiled. “That’s one way of dealing with them,” she commented.
Paige didn’t smile back; she simply sat staring at the wine she hadn’t touched, her face as pale as Jenna had ever seen it, her young heart clearly badly troubled.
“Did Dad leave because of me?” she suddenly blurted out.
Jenna stopped what she was doing and turned to her. “No, of course not,” she replied. “It had nothing to do with you. Why do you even think that?”
Paige didn’t seem comforted.
“I know this might come as a shock,” Jenna pressed on, trying to put a tease in her voice, “but not everything’s about you.”
Paige’s surly expression told what she thought of that little joke.
“It really isn’t,” Jenna insisted, “and I can promise you—”
“All right, it isn’t about me,” Paige cut in irritably.
“Paige…”
“So let’s make it about Josh. He’s really upset about what’s happening. I can hear him crying at night, even if you can’t.”
“Mummy! Mummy!” Flora screamed. “Wills is scribbling on my walls.”
“She scribbled on mine first,” Wills yelled.
“Mum, he’s hitting me.”
“She hit me first.”
“Go and sort them out,” Jenna sighed. “Tell them no stories if they don’t brush their teeth and get into bed by the time I come up.”
Looking about as thrilled to play mother as she was to be in the house at all, Paige took herself off upstairs, leaving Jenna to gulp down her wine and refresh the glass.
Seconds later the phone rang again. This time it was Hanna.
“How are you?” she asked. “Have you heard from Jack today?”
“No,” Jenna replied. “He’s supposed to be calling the children this evening, but no word from him yet. Maybe he’ll ring Josh’s mobile to try and avoid me.”
“Where did that yellow streak come from?” Hanna muttered. “So what’s happened about the auditor?”
“He’s been here for most of the day, and I’m due to see Richard Pryce on Friday to go over the findings.”
“I take it you’ve told Richard about the conversation you had with Jack yesterday?”
“Yes, we spoke on the phone earlier.”
“And he said?”
“Not much really.”
“No, lawyers never do, but he must have been mightily impressed by Jack’s suggestion that you transfer your money to him.”
“In order to cheat my publisher of it. You know, I don’t think he even sees it that way.”
“Whether he does or doesn’t, I wouldn’t trust him with a dime of my hard-earned money after all this. Tell me how you’re feeling.”
“If you really want to know, terrible. It’s like it’s all starting to crowd in on me now, getting bigger and heavier and darker…I keep reminding myself I should hate him, but that doesn’t help, because I don’t actually want to hate him. I just want to go back to the way things were. OK, I know it’s not going to happen, but you can’t just wipe out fourteen years of your life as if they meant nothing….” She took a breath. “I keep wondering if it was losing his job that changed him, or if it was something I did.”
“Losing his job was hard,” Hanna agreed, “we know that from the depression he sank into, and looking back I’d say he’s been quite…extreme since then. You know, the way he suddenly bounced you all off to the Gower without much of a discussion. Then he was launching a new business, joining every society and club going…Maybe we shouldn’t even get into all the money he’s spent on cars and gadgets and heaven only knows what else. It’s as though he’s lost his brakes, or his off switch, or his reality checks, and this affair with Martha is another example. He can’t just have an affair, as if that’s not bad enough; he has to abandon his family and go and live with her. I mean, how extreme is that?”
Though these same thoughts had been going round in Jenna’s head for days now, it was the first time she’d heard them spoken out loud, and while in a way they were giving her hope that there might be a cure for Jack’s excessiveness, in another way she felt horribly flattened by them. “Even if he is experiencing some sort of backlash from losing his job, which is what I guess you’re saying,” she responded, “I’d never get him to admit it, much less to see anyone about it.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would, but I think it’s something worth mentioning to Richard when you see him, because if this does end up in court it could help your case no end if it turns out your husband has a mental condition.”
Jenna flinched. Jack with a mental condition? It just didn’t seem feasible, much less anywhere she wanted to go. What would it mean for their three youngest children? “Maybe it’s a midlife crisis,” she suggested, realizing even as she said it that this new label wasn’t really making anything better.
“Whatever it is, it has the potential for getting you into a lot of trouble, and it has to be sorted out.”
Since there was no arguing with that, Jenna said, “How’s the prep for the presentation going?”
“Just fine, thanks. We’re on target, so I’m hopeful we’ll get it through. How are the children?”
“Up and down. It doesn’t help that their father’s breaking promises all over the place.”
“You should keep a note of it; you never know when it might be useful.”
“You mean if we end up in a custody battle?”
“I’m sorry—I know it’s not what you want to hear.”
“But it’s practical advice, so I’ll take it.”
“Good. What time are you seeing Richard on Friday?”
“Five o’clock. I can’t get into Swansea because I have to collect the children from school—Mum’s got bell-ringing practice and she’s giving up enough of her time already. So he suggested coming here on his way home.”
“That’s kind of him. Does he liv
e nearby?”
“Not really. Bena says he’s in Caswell.”
“That’s the posh part, isn’t it, close to Mumbles?”
“You could see it that way.”
“If he’s a successful lawyer, and we know he is, he’ll be in one of the big houses overlooking the bay. Did Bena also tell you he’s a widower?”
“Yes, she did. Hanna, I know you’ve never been overly fond of Jack, but if you’re—”
“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to suggest anything—obviously it’s far too early days for that. But whatever happens over the coming weeks and months, you can’t deny Richard could be a good friend to have.”
Too tired to think how to respond to that, Jenna was about to change the subject when Josh appeared in the doorway. “What’s up?” she asked, noting his stricken face. “You don’t have to keep worrying about being put on the black bench. I’m sure it was a mistake. We’ll sort it out with the teacher tomorrow.”
“Dad says he can’t make it for our special time on Saturday,” he told her brokenly.
Jenna’s anger immediately flared. “Hanna, I’ll call you back,” she said into the phone, and after ringing off she dialed Jack’s mobile.
“You,” she said to the voicemail, “are the one who told them nothing would change, that you’d still be picking them up from school and doing all the same things with them you always have. Now, after letting them down three times already this week, Josh tells me you can’t make his special time on Saturday. I don’t know what’s going on with you, and frankly I don’t care, but I’m not going to have you treating the children this way. So as of now you can consider yourself banned from this family.” Slamming down the phone, she went to pull Josh into her arms.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, already regretting exploding in front of him, “but I had to say something to make him realize that his behavior is wrong. We can’t have him messing around with us, letting us down, and making us upset all the time, can we?”
“No,” Josh murmured.
Hugging him tight, she said, “We’ll find something else to do.”
He nodded.
“Where’s Paige?”
“In her room.”
Feeling a sudden intense anger with her daughter for having abandoned the young ones to their nits and misery to go and indulge in her chat rooms or self-pity or whatever the hell she was doing, Jenna grabbed the omelette pan, emptied it into the bin, and sent a text to Paige letting her know that if she wanted to eat she could damned well make it herself.
“This is monstrous behavior,” Miss Kendrick declared, her steely gray eyes fixed harshly on Kelly Durham, her slim, ringless fingers resting on the computer printouts in front of her. It was the end of the school day and almost everyone else had gone home—even the buses had left—but Miss Kendrick wasn’t allowing Kelly Durham or Paige Moore to go anywhere until she’d sorted this out. “I’m appalled that you could even think anything like this,” she continued, directing her wrath at Kelly, “never mind write it in a public forum. And please don’t tell me it wasn’t you.”
“It wasn’t, miss,” Kelly protested, her large oval face flushed with innocence. “Where’s my name? There’s nothing there to say—”
“It’s been traced back to you,” Miss Kendrick interrupted forcefully. “You wouldn’t be sitting here if it hadn’t, and you have to admit, Kelly, this isn’t the first time we’ve had this sort of trouble with you.”
“Because people keep hacking into my account,” Kelly cried. “It’s not my fault if they know how to do it and I don’t know how to stop them.”
Miss Kendrick’s eyes flitted to Paige.
“Frankly, miss,” Kelly continued, “anyone could have done this, so I don’t think you should pick on me.” She should have stopped there, but didn’t. “If I tell my granddad, he’ll be really upset, and that’s not a good way to treat someone who’s made so many donations to the school.”
Miss Kendrick’s eyes flashed. “Many of these remarks came from your school account,” she reminded Kelly, “and Mr. Thomas assures me there is no evidence of hacking.”
Kelly threw out her immaculately manicured hands. “So someone got my password! It’s happening all the time.”
Miss Kendrick’s expression showed how unimpressed she was.
Kelly’s face tightened. “I’m telling the truth,” she cried tearfully, “but I can see you’d rather believe her, because she’s your favorite and everyone knows it.”
Miss Kendrick still wasn’t regarding her kindly. “The comments about Paige’s father…”
“Had nothing to do with me. I don’t even know him. You need to ask the person who posted it.”
“Maybe you can tell me who it was.”
“I swear I would if I could, but I’ve got no idea.”
Miss Kendrick’s eyes moved to Paige.
Though Paige was in no doubt that Kelly was behind it, and that she could easily use all the other abuse she’d suffered at Kelly’s hands to back up her claim, she remained silent. It was bad enough that they were here at all without her doing anything to make it worse.
“I’m of two minds whether to take this to Mr. Charles,” Miss Kendrick stated.
“No, please,” Paige and Kelly said together.
Miss Kendrick regarded them worriedly.
Paige knew she should never have allowed Charlotte to talk to Miss Kendrick. She’d tried telling her a hundred times that it would only make things worse, but Charlotte had refused to listen, and now here they were with everything running out of control.
“I know you’ve got it in for me,” Kelly suddenly erupted. “You always have had, just because I don’t like your stupid lessons and can’t stand the way you—”
“Stop it, Kelly. Stop right now.”
“I will,” Kelly sobbed, “but my granddad—”
“You really don’t have to keep reminding me that he’s a generous benefactor,” Miss Kendrick interrupted. “I just need to know that you girls are friends before you leave here.”
Clenching her hands tightly, Paige said, “I probably jumped to conclusions, miss.”
Miss Kendrick was still staring at Kelly.
“Please, let’s just forget it,” Paige implored. “I didn’t want to come here….”
“You did the right thing.”
“No, honestly. I believe Kelly’s account was hacked, because it’s happened to mine too.”
Miss Kendrick’s eyes moved between them. “Kelly,” she said in the end, “do you understand that what’s written here isn’t only highly offensive, it could be very damaging?”
“Of course I do, miss, but I swear it wasn’t me.”
Miss Kendrick really didn’t look like she believed her, and for several heart-stopping moments Paige was sure Kelly was going to tell Miss Kendrick to eff off, or something equally terrible. In the end nothing at all was said.
Paige reached the door first but stood aside as Kelly trod on her foot to go through ahead of her. If Miss Kendrick saw, she didn’t comment, nor did Paige look back. She just wanted to get out of here and as far away from Kelly Durham as possible.
Charlotte was waiting at the end of the corridor, as were a couple of the Durmites. To Paige’s surprise Charlotte seemed to be talking to them, but broke away as soon as she spotted Paige coming.
“How did it go?” she whispered, linking her arm with Paige’s as they walked off toward the stairs.
“Oi, bitch,” Kelly Durham hissed after them.
Paige came to a stop, hunching her shoulders.
“Don’t think this is the end of it,” Kelly warned.
Paige turned round. “I told her I didn’t think you did it,” she reminded her.
“Yeah, right, and we all believe that, don’t we?”
“Why did you do it?” Charlotte demanded fiercely.
Kelly seemed about to retort when Bethany whispered something in her ear. Kelly’s eyebrows rose as she looked at Charlotte again. “Y
ou’ve got weird taste in friends,” she told her, and turning her back, she and the Durmites went off in the opposite direction.
“Why did you say you didn’t think she did it?” Charlotte asked crossly as they continued down the stairs.
“Because I could tell that just being there was making things worse,” Paige cried. “I told you it would.”
“You had to do something.”
“Well, I have now, and you heard what she just said—it’s still not over.”
“She only said it to save face. She won’t dare to do anything like it again. You wait and see.”
Not in any way convinced, Paige stopped at her locker and took out her bag and coat. “So what were you and the others talking about while we were in there?” she asked, trying to sound casual in spite of how worried she was feeling.
Charlotte merely shrugged. “Nothing, really,” she replied.
Sensing there was more, Paige insisted, “It must have been something.”
Charlotte turned to look at her. “Actually, I didn’t want to tell you this,” she said, making Paige’s heart turn over, “but you’ll find out soon enough anyway. Apparently they’re going to the party on Saturday. They were trying to find out if you were too.”
Paige’s eyes filled with misery as it spread all the way through her. “So everyone’s invited except me?”
“Not everyone, just them, and you wouldn’t want to go with them there anyway.”
It was true, she wouldn’t, but it was still a terrible feeling knowing she was excluded. “I might try and see if I can get Julie to meet up with me at the weekend,” she said, more to remind herself and Charlotte that she had another friend than because she actually meant it.
Though Charlotte didn’t seem to approve, all she said was, “If she will, at least you’ll know then who she really is.”
Paige was suddenly struggling with tears. “Actually, if she’s Owen or Kelly or Bethany, as you seem to think, she’ll be at the party with you,” she told Charlotte, walking away.
Charlotte hurried after her. “Don’t be upset,” she urged, trying to put an arm around her.
Pulling away, Paige said, “It’s all right for you—they never pick on you. You don’t know what it’s like always being made to feel small or horrible or like you’re nobody.”
