Too Close to Home

by Susan Lewis

  In the end they were late for everything, with everyone in a terrible mood. Wills was furious at having to wear a pair of Josh’s shorts with a safety pin in the waistband to hold them up, Josh was complaining at having to wear the wrong-color kit, and Flora was shouting that she hated her mother for forcing her to wear a Care Bears pajama top and the lime-green tights they’d bought specially for her appearance as a leek at last year’s harvest festival.

  As soon as she was back in the car, Jenna tried calling Paige. Finding herself going to voicemail, she rang Charlotte instead to let her know that Paige was at home and to ask if Paige had been ill during the day. However, Charlotte wasn’t answering either, which wasn’t a surprise once Jenna remembered that tonight was the first tennis coaching session of the season. Paige should have been there too, and since she loved tennis above most other sports and had been vowing to beat her mother by the summer without, as she’d put it, being allowed to win, Jenna wondered again if she might be coming down with something.

  As she toyed with the idea of asking her mother to pop in to check on her, her mobile rang. Seeing it was Jack, she braced herself and clicked on.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked shortly.

  “I have a couple of things I need to tell you,” he responded, “and I thought…I was hoping now might be a good time.”

  Tensing around the flare of hope that everything was falling apart with Martha, she gave him no encouragement to continue.

  “First up,” he said, “I don’t want you to worry about repaying anything the company owes. Martha has offered to take care of it.”

  Jenna’s eyes closed as the enormousness of the gesture seemed to drown her. “Lucky you to have a rich girlfriend,” she murmured. “She must love you very much to be turning a blind eye to the fact that you cheated all those innocent people out of their money.”

  Not rising to it, he said, “Perhaps you could tell your lawyer.”

  She didn’t bother to reply.

  “The other thing,” he continued, “is I thought I ought to let you know that I’m going to be away for a few weeks.”

  As the words registered she sat very still, as though not moving could stop this from going any further.

  “Are you still there?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m here. Where are you going?”

  “To the States. Martha and I have some business in Boston and Seattle, and we thought, as it’s going to be close to Easter by the time we’re done, that we’d fly her children out for a holiday after.”

  Jenna’s mind reeled, and she tried to breathe but found she couldn’t. He and Martha had business; Martha had children who he was going to spend Easter with, in the States, where his own children had never been but would love to go.

  What could she say to that? What words existed in the English language that could even begin to express how she felt right now? Since she could find none she simply ended the call.

  —

  A while later Jenna was sitting in the dining room, staring out of the window, barely registering what was going on around her, though she’d heard Paige come downstairs a moment ago and start talking to Josh.

  Was Paige all right? Hadn’t she been in bed earlier, with her coat on?

  Where were the twins?

  Remembering they were down at her mother’s, she tried to stir herself, but her limbs felt so heavy she could barely move. Maybe she’d taken the wrong dosage of Valium, but she’d needed to take something to keep herself breathing.

  “What is that?” she heard Paige demanding.

  “Peanut butter and noodles,” Josh answered through a mouthful.

  “You’re kidding! Mum! Do you know what he’s eating?”

  Jenna didn’t answer.

  “Mum!” Paige shouted, going into the dining room. “What’s the matter with you? He’s eating peanut butter with his noodles, for God’s sake.”

  Jenna turned round.

  “Josh is eating—”

  “Yes, I heard you, and you shouldn’t be eating that, Josh. It’s not good for you.”

  “I don’t care, it’s my favorite, and you said I could have anything I wanted with my noodles.”

  “Then I guess we’re lucky you didn’t choose jam or cottage cheese.”

  “Ugh! Yuk! Yuk! I hate cottage cheese.”

  Jenna felt Paige’s eyes on her as she got up and went to take a bottle of wine from the fridge.

  “Would you like a glass?” she offered Paige.

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Paige retorted, “and I don’t think you should either.”

  Jenna’s eyebrows rose. “Why ever not?”

  “Because…”

  Jenna waited.

  Paige colored with anger and frustration. “Because you’re like you are,” she cried, “and wine won’t help.”

  “Then what will?”

  “I don’t know. Dad coming back, I suppose, but—”

  “But we know that’s not going to happen, so I’ll have a glass of wine instead.”

  Taking the bottle from her, Paige pushed her onto a bar stool and said, “When did you last eat?”

  Jenna blinked with amusement.

  “I said—”

  “Paige, why don’t you make something for yourself and stop worrying about me?”

  “Do you think I want to worry about you?” Paige exclaimed heatedly. “Hasn’t it crossed your mind I might have better things to do? And I don’t want to be worrying about him and the twins either, but someone has to or our whole family’s going to fall apart.”

  “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m not.”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  “Have you seen Dad today? Is that why you’re like this?”

  “We spoke on the phone,” Jenna told her.

  “Did you row?”

  “No, we didn’t.”

  Paige looked at Josh again. Grabbing his bowl, she carried it to the bin and emptied it.

  “Mum! Mum! Did you see what she did?” Josh cried angrily. “She stole my tea.”

  “Yes, I saw,” Jenna replied. “You shouldn’t have done that, Paige. He was hungry.”

  “I’ll make you some proper food,” Paige snapped at Josh. “What do you want?”

  “Peanut butter and noodles.”

  “Don’t be stupid. What about pasta and—”

  “I don’t want pasta.”

  “Egg on toast?”

  “No! I want—”

  “You’re not having it, so shut up. I’ll make some nachos. You like them.”

  Slightly appeased, since nachos were his next favorite to peanut butter, Josh watched as she took out a bag of tortilla chips and scattered them over a baking sheet.

  “Do you want some?” she asked her mother as her phone bleeped with a text.

  Jenna shook her head. “There’s some guacamole in the fridge,” she said, wandering through to the sitting room.

  Finding it next to the salsa, Paige took out both cartons and reached for her phone. Seeing the message was from Kelly, she tried not to open it, but couldn’t stop herself.

  No words, just a photo—the same shot they’d used of her before, but this time it was attached to a totally naked body striking the kind of pose that belonged on an Internet porn site.

  “What’s the matter?” Josh asked as she struggled not to cry.

  “Nothing,” she mumbled, closing her phone down. The last thing she wanted to do now was make nachos, but Josh was waiting and her mum was on another planet and so all she could do was carry on spreading the salsa, grating the cheese, and adding some chile flakes.

  “Dad!” she seethed into her phone half an hour later. She was in her bathroom with both doors firmly closed so no one could hear. “What happened when you spoke to Mum today?”

  “Ah, so you’re talking to me at last,” he responded. “I knew it—”

  “I said what happened to Mum?” she broke in furiously.

  “Nothing happened. Why?”

&n
bsp; “She’s acting really weird. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Tell me what’s wrong with her.”

  “I don’t know. She’s strange, like she’s not really here, but she is.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Lying down. The twins’ll be back soon, and I don’t want to be the one to put them to bed.”

  “Then ask Grandma to help.”

  “Mum should be doing it. I want her to do it, because I want everything to be normal, but it never will be now, thanks to you.” Cutting the line dead, she slid to the floor and buried her face in her hands.

  A moment later he rang back. “Paige, listen to me…”

  “No! You listen to me. You haven’t got the first idea of what I’m going through. You don’t even care.”

  “Sweetheart, calm down, please. I know you’re upset, and that things are difficult right now, but we can work through it. Let me meet you at school tomorrow.”

  “No! As long as you’re living with that witch, I don’t want you to come anywhere near me.”

  “Please don’t call her that.”

  “Witch! Witch! Witch!” she shouted. Ringing off again, she closed the phone down completely and squeezed herself into the tightest little ball she could manage, as though it might keep everything and everyone in the whole horrible nightmare of her life from getting to her ever again.

  —

  “What’s going on?” Jack demanded down the phone to Jenna. “Paige has just rung me in a terrible state saying there’s something wrong with you.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me,” Jenna informed him, “and I don’t want to speak to you, so kindly get off the line.”

  “Not until you tell me—”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything. You’re not running this house, or me, or the children, so mind your own business and get on with your own life.”

  “Jenna, you’re sounding strange even to me, so what’s going on? Have you taken something?”

  Sighing, she said, “I got some tranquilizers from the doctor….”

  “Why? What kind of tranquilizers?”

  “They’re helping to take the edge off things, and I don’t need to explain myself to you, so just do as I ask and get off the line.”

  “Where are the children? I hope you’re not going to be driving anywhere—”

  “I’m not,” she said, and rang off.

  A few minutes later he sent a text. Make sure Paige is all right and don’t freak her out any more than you already have.

  Letting her head fall back against the pillows, Jenna closed her eyes. She’d go to see Paige in a minute; she just needed to have a little nap first and then everything would be all right.

  It was the night of Cullum and Oliver’s party. Paige was in her room waiting for Julie to come back online so they could carry on chatting. It had been a really terrible week at school, one of the worst so far, but at least the Durmites hadn’t shoved her head down the toilet again. Instead they were doing stuff like creeping up behind her and pulling her hair so hard it made her scream, or tripping her up with a push that made sure she went down, or snatching her bag and emptying it on the ground, sometimes in puddles, before sauntering off. The texts and postings were every bit as bad—morning, noon, and night, they hardly stopped—and the whole world had seen the fake nude picture of her now. It was making her want to stay curled up in her room and never come out rather than have to face the way people were smirking and wolf-whistling as she went past, as if the photo were real when everyone surely knew it wasn’t.

  The ugliness had continued throughout today, in spite of it being Saturday, with the Durmites posting how relieved they were that she wasn’t going to be at the party stinking the place out and spreading her STDs.

  She takes getting pissed to a whole new level, one of them had commented. She actually drinks the real stuff. Ask her, she can’t deny it.

  So loads of people had asked, but she hadn’t answered. She’d simply watched it all unfold and kept wondering why they wouldn’t just leave her alone.

  “Paige, do you want to come and watch a film with us?” her mother called through the door.

  “No thanks,” Paige replied.

  “What are you doing in there?”

  “Reviewing.”

  “We’ve hardly seen you today.”

  “I’ve got a lot to do.”

  “You should take a break.”

  “I will, tomorrow.”

  As she heard Jenna walking away she went to open the door. “Are you all right?” she asked when her mother turned round. She wasn’t, that much was plain just from looking at her.

  “I’m fine,” Jenna replied. “Are you?”

  Paige nodded. “I might come down in a minute,” she said. “I’ve got to finish something first.”

  Jenna smiled hesitantly.

  Back in her room Paige tried not to think about the way her mother was falling apart. She kept telling herself that this bad spell wouldn’t last, she’d pull out of it soon, but it didn’t seem to be happening. She just thanked God Grandma was around to keep an eye on things, so it wasn’t all being left to her, although it didn’t seem very fair on Grandma either, when she was going to be seventy next year.

  Deciding she had to do her best to help out more with Josh and the twins and be a bit nicer to her mum than she had been lately, she returned to her laptop to find a message from Julie.

  Are you still there?

  Still here.

  Sorry I had to duck out. Anyway, I was saying before, I think it’s totally gross all the stuff they were saying about your dad. Everyone does. They definitely went too far this time. You were right to go to Miss K.

  Paige hated even thinking about those posts. She still felt so repulsed by them that she never wanted to see her dad again. Let’s change the subject.

  Sure. Sorry.

  You said it got worse after you reported them. That’s definitely happening to me.

  Yes, I heard what they did in the girls’ toilets the other day. It’s what they did to me.

  What happened after that?

  I can’t really remember now. I don’t like thinking about it.

  It would just be good to know what to expect.

  I wouldn’t worry about it, it’ll probably be different for you, anyway. Where are you now?

  At home in my room.

  Were you invited to the party at Cullum’s?

  No, not really. Were you?

  Yes, but I couldn’t go.

  Why?

  Long story—my dad’s a bit of a control freak and he doesn’t really believe in parties. How are things with your dad?

  Terrible. My mum’s taking it really hard now, I hardly know what to say to her.

  So sad. Really sorry to hear that.

  Thank you. I wish we could meet up.

  We definitely will. Once the Durmites have moved on and left you alone. Sorry to be a wimp about it, but I just don’t want to remind them I’m around. So, do you think your parents will get back together?

  I don’t know. I wish they would.

  If you had a dad like mine you’d be glad he was gone.

  Is he really that bad?

  Sometimes.

  Not wanting to stay on the subject of dads, Paige said, Do you wish you were at the party?

  Definitely. Do you?

  Sort of. I mean, yes, but you saw the stuff they posted on Cullum’s brother’s wall, you know, the photos of me and everything. I wouldn’t want to face him.

  Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that. BTW I can see why you like him.

  I don’t.

  It’s OK, you don’t have to hide it from me. I mean, who wouldn’t fancy someone like him? He’s totally drop-dead. No way is that Lindsay French good enough for him, but don’t tell anyone I said that.

  She’s very pretty.

  Not as pretty as you. That’s why the Durmites are always picking on you, because they’re jealous of your looks and how bra
iny you are.

  No way am I either of those things. Is it why they picked on you, because you’re brainy and pretty?

  Ha ha! They just saw me as a typical victim, which I suppose I am in a way. I’m only brave when I’m behind a computer, in case you hadn’t noticed.

  I think that’s sad.

  So do I, but you have to admit it’s a lot easier to say things like this than it is face-to-face.

  I guess, sometimes.

  Checking her phone as it bleeped with a text, Paige saw it was from Charlotte and quickly clicked on. Amazing news! Sit down before you read! Oliver and Lindsay about to break up! Liam told me, so def true! Reckon your luck is changing. Cxxx

  Feeling a rush of elation, Paige quickly sent a message back. How’s it going with Liam?

  Will tell you everything tomorrow, but reckon it’s def going to happen tonight! xxx

  Have you gone? Julie was asking.

  Paige was about to say she hadn’t, but then suddenly decided that she’d had enough for tonight. She only wanted to think about Oliver now, and she was going to do that downstairs, cuddled up in front of a movie with her mum and the others.

  —

  Hearing Paige going downstairs, Jenna tried to force herself up from the bed, but decided to rest for a few more minutes. Although she’d stopped taking the tranquilizers after her first unsuccessful trial, the only time she seemed able to summon any energy lately was when she argued with Jack. It was as though flames came out of her then, huge angry bursts of bitterness and frustration, but that was happening less and less as time passed, mainly because he’d stopped coming in when he brought the children home.

  The writers’ investments were being refunded, so that problem at least was going away. True to her word, Martha had advanced the money, and Bena was working closely with Richard to make sure that every last penny of the fraudulent charges was returned to the victims. Bena had even drafted the letter of apology to accompany the checks, which Richard had approved and Jenna had signed. Jack wasn’t involving himself in the resolution at all, only in transferring the funds, though Richard was sending him copies of everything and Bena was taking much delight in forwarding disgruntled and even threatening emails to his new account.