by Jane Bidder
Kayleigh’s eyes shone; all the earlier anger and suspicion gone. “Ta. You too.” She stared at Alice. “Had it out with him yet? About that woman?”
Shocked, Alice searched for the right words. “No. Not yet. I’m not sure …”
Kayleigh tutted. “Don’t let him take you for a ride. Me mam does that. I made the same mistake with Frankie. But I’m not going to do it again. And you shouldn’t either. Ta ta.”
Speechless, Alice stood and watched the girl saunter out of sight. How funny that a sixteen-year-old girl had tried to give her advice! Yet there was more of a grain of truth in what she had said.
Meanwhile, she hoped Kayleigh would be all right. Hadn’t she watched Garth go out like this, on many an occasion? Yet somehow it was different with a daughter: even a pretend one. So much could happen to a girl; things that didn’t happen to a son …
Slowly, with Mungo at her heels, Alice walked back to the house. It seemed so quiet. So empty. Even Radio 4 with its early evening chit-chat, didn’t fill in the blank space. Yet it was better than having Daniel back. Better than having to decide what to say. Maybe Janice would have some ideas. Picking up the phone, she began to dial her friend’s number and then stopped as Mungo began to bark.
Sure enough, there was the distant smooth crunch, through the window, of her husband’s car, coming up the drive. Trembling, Alice wiped the kitchen knife on some kitchen roll, put it back in the block, and popped the seafood lasagne into the Aga.
It would be ready in half an hour.
Time enough to talk.
Or not.
Daniel was ecstatic to see Mungo back. More so than he had ever seemed to see her, Alice couldn’t help thinking.
“You’re all right, boy. You’re all right,” he kept saying.
It was almost as though he was using the dog as a buffer against the things they should be talking about. “Brian says there’s no news about Garth yet,” she said tersely, setting down the serving dish in the middle of the kitchen table. She had laid it nicely as usual with the duck-blue table cloth to match the Aga.
“I know. He emailed me this afternoon. Want some of this, boy?”
They had a rule about not feeding Mungo at the table; a rule which Daniel had introduced when he’d been a puppy. Occasionally, when Garth had been younger, he and Alice had disobeyed it. It had united them; made them a team; complicit in a rather exciting feeling of rebellion.
Alice waited until her husband had put a forkful into his own mouth. “I went to a conference about Kayleigh today. They agreed she could live here for the time being.”
Daniel spluttered. “What?”
“Please finish your mouthful before you speak.” She observed him with distaste, dabbing his face with his napkin. Was this really the same man who had slept with Monica?
“Don’t talk to me like a child.”
“Well you are one, aren’t you? Children don’t understand the rules of life.”
Daniel put down his knife and fork. “Alice. What are you trying to say?”
She pushed her plate to one side. It wasn’t too late to take it back. To pretend she had meant something else. “I’m talking about Monica.”
The name leaped out of her mouth without permission. Jumped without looking. Threw itself into the maelstrom of the unknown without thought – until now – of how it would surface and swim.
Her eyes were on her husband’s. If you do decide to talk to him, Janice had said earlier, make sure it’s face to face. You’ll get a better idea of whether he’s lying or not.
“Monica?” Daniel was trying not to look away. He was rattled. She could see that. Part of her had been hoping that he would be more certain in his denial. That he could prove this had all been a terrible mistake.
“Please tell me it’s not true.” There was a horrible silence, broken by Mungo whining pointedly at Daniel’s plate. “No,” said Alice quietly, beginning to shake. “No.”
Daniel sat there. Rigid. His face angry. With her. “Well what did you expect? We don’t have a proper relationship, do we?”
“You know why. I told you. I can’t. Uncle Phil …”
“You told me when it was too late. When we were already married.” Daniel gave a nasty laugh. “It’s incredible that we actually managed to have Garth.”
Alice leaped up, walking towards the window. Anything to put some distance between her and him. “We’ve been through this. Hundreds of times. I told you. I thought it might get better. I thought I could get over it. Why did you stay with me if you couldn’t handle it?”
“Because I thought I could help you.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “And because we have a son. I take my commitments seriously, Alice.”
“Take your commitments seriously?” She laughed out loud. “Then why did you go off with Monica? It’s not just the sex, Daniel. It’s the deceit. Where did you do it? When?”
She walked up to him, grabbing him by the collar. He looked scared but not as scared as she felt inside. Never before had she held a man by the collar like this. “I want to know. Everything. When did it start?”
He had the grace to look embarrassed. “At the golf club ball. Last year. She … kissed me outside when we went out for some air.”
Alice felt sick. “You could have said no.”
“I was starved, Alice. Starved of affection. It was nice and yes, I’ll admit it, flattering that someone wanted me. For God’s sake, it wasn’t as though you did.”
She couldn’t argue with that. “When did you see each other? You’re always busy during term-time …”
Then she realised. “My God. The vacation course. It didn’t exist, did it? You used it as a way of seeing her.”
Daniel’s face was in his hands. She’d gone too far, Alice realised. Janice had been wrong. She should have kept quiet. “Do you love her?” she whispered.
“No.”
A huge wave of relief broke over her.
“I tried to break it off. But she wouldn’t let me.” Daniel raised his face to hers, like a child desperately seeking help for a wrong-doing. “She said that if I didn’t leave you, she’d tell someone about us and …”
He hesitated.
“Go on,” demanded Alice.
“And that she’d also tell the defence about you not being able to …”
“To have sex,” finished Alice quietly. “Something she decided to do anyway. Probably to push you into being so humiliated in front of everyone, that you’d leave me. I get it now.”
Daniel nodded. “I’m so sorry, Alice. I didn’t mean to tell her. It’s just that …”
She sank onto her chair again, Mungo whining by her feet, jumping up at her; knowing something was wrong. “Please.” Daniel had tears down his face. “I don’t want to lose you.” He glanced round the room.
“Or the house,” added Alice sharply.
“Not just that. I don’t want to lose you or Garth or our home or everything that we’ve built up. I’m sorry, Alice.”
She gulped. “So am I. If I could do something about it, I would.”
He looked scared. “What do you mean?”
Alice had been referring to her inadequacies in bed. But now she realised Daniel thought she was referring to her inability to forgive him. Both might be true.
The phone began to ring. Not now. Not now.
“Leave it.”
“It could be Brian.”
“Hah!” Only just did she stop herself from adding “Two peas in a pod.”
“Please, leave it.” His voice sang with a pain of raw gravel under feet. “This is more important.”
“Is it?” Never before had she felt such honesty between them. How ironic that it had taken his dishonesty to achieve this.
“This could be the best thing to happen to us.”
The phone stopped ringing.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you see? We’re talking properly now. Without any pretence. We can start again. Make it right this time
. You could go to a counsellor – we both could …”
The phone began ringing again.
“Wait.” Daniel was gripping her arm. “I’ll do a deal with you. I’ll allow Kayleigh to stay if you promise to give me another chance. I won’t see Monica again. I promise.”
Alice hesitated. Kayleigh’s earlier words rang through her head. Once a bloke has cheated, that’s it. He’ll do it again.
“All right,” she said. Then she picked up the phone.
“Mum,” said a distant voice. “Mum. It’s me!”
Chapter Twenty-four
Kayleigh had to pinch herself at the bus stop. Here she was, living in a real home with someone who really seemed to care about her. “Be back by eleven,” Alice had said. Then there had been all that stuff about her hair.
She’d nearly shit bricks at that. Why the fuck had she nicked the clasp? Alice could have rung the police. But instead, she’d been so nice about it that Kayleigh felt really guilty. Then Alice had given her a quick hug like she’d been her own kid and said “Ring if you miss the last bus and I’ll drive in to get you. I don’t want you walking back.”
Mum had never bothered about that.
Kayleigh’s heart swelled with love towards Alice. She was so nice. So kind. But at the same time, she felt really jealous of that boy in the photographs. Alice doted on him. (‘Doted’ was a word that Mr Brown had used once during a lesson on the romantic poets. It had a nice ring to it so Kayleigh had looked it up and written it down in her book of words.)
Garth, he was called. The boy in the photographs that was. Strange name. Looked a bit weird too in the picture that Alice said was the latest one. He had long curly hair like a girl but you could see from the nose and the rest of his face that there wasn’t anything gay about him.
Did Garth know how lucky he was to have a mother like Alice? Already, Kayleigh decided, she didn’t like him.
It struck her, as she waited for the bus, that she didn’t know if Frankie had a mother. If he had, she was more probably more like Kayleigh’s than Alice. Otherwise he wouldn’t have let her down like that. Bet Garth was a real gentleman.
Kayleigh felt a big lump in her throat. She’d trusted Frankie. But it wasn’t just her he had hurt. It was Marlene too. That’s why she was here. That’s why she’d told Alice a lie about a friend texting. She needed to find some of their mates; see if anyone knew exactly what had happened. Find out where Marlene was buried, too, to pay her respects. Maybe she’d been cremated. The thought made her shiver.
“Want a lift?”
Looking up, Kayleigh took in a really cool red Mini had pulled up. At the wheel was a bloke with curly blond hair. He was smiling at her like she was a nice girl: not someone who had stolen Alice’s hair clip. “I’m going into the city if that’s where you’re heading.” He glanced at the bus stop. “You can wait hours at this place. Used to do it myself.”
Don’t take lifts from strangers. Somewhere, at the back of her mind, Kayleigh remembered a teacher telling her that. (It definitely wasn’t something that Mum would say.) But this bloke’s voice was really posh. Surely someone like that wouldn’t hurt her?
“Thanks,” she said, getting in rather clumsily. Great car. If only Marlene could see her now!
His name was Seb, he said, as they drove along the windy narrow lanes. Seb? Another weird name like Garth. Why didn’t they have normal names like the rest of the world? Perhaps they belonged to the upper classes. Mr Brown was always banging on about that. He said it wasn’t politically correct any more but everyone knew it happened, both in books and out of it. They had different rules, he used to say, staring at her. Different ways of eating. Talking. And of making love …
Kayleigh shook herself, not wanting to think about him and that girl bent over the desk. Meanwhile, Seb was going so fast that she wanted to grab the side of the door but didn’t like to in case it offended him. He was home from uni but couldn’t wait to get back, he yelled out over the engine. His parents were effing well driving him mad.
He said the effing bit in such a cool way that it didn’t sound crude the way it did when Mum said it. Until she’d come to live with Alice, Kayleigh hadn’t realised how much she’d picked up Mum’s swearing.
“What about you?” She blushed as his eyes took her in. “I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Just moved here.” Kayleigh tried not to look as Seb took a corner so fast that they nearly went into a car coming in the opposite direction. Then, because she couldn’t resist the novelty, she added “I’m staying with Mrs Honeybun.”
“Alice Honeybun? No way!”
Another corner. Another hoot.
“She took me in after something happened.”
She hadn’t meant to say so much but it was too late.
“After what happened?”
Don’t say it was you. Don’t say it was you.
“She saw this couple making out in the park so had to be a witness in court. All kinds of stuff came out about her personal life apparently and now everyone’s talking. So she … she needs some company.”
Another corner. Another load of car hooting.
“Fuck off. Sorry, not you. That idiot. So how come you know Alice? Friend of your mother’s, is she?”
Kayleigh had to stop herself from laughing. The thought of Mum and Alice in the same room was both funny and scary. But after what Seb had just said, there was no way she was going to tell him that she was the girl in the park. He might chuck her out of the car or laugh – which would be even worse. “It’s complicated.”
Seb laughed. He had a nice deep laugh. She rather liked that. “Life usually is. So what do you think about Garth? Banged up in some South American prison.” He uttered a low whistle. “Wouldn’t fancy that myself. Still, Mum says it serves Alice Honeybun right ’cos she’s such a goody-two shoes.”
Kayleigh wasn’t sure what goody-two shoes actually meant but it didn’t sound very nice. “I don’t know Garth,” she said tightly, “but I do know that it’s not easy for Alice.”
HOOT.
“FUCK OFF. Sorry. Didn’t mean to speak out of turn then. Garth’s mum always seemed very nice to me. She and my mum did a school run together a few years ago. And I do know that Mum can be a bit judgmental at times.”
He was slowing down, much to Kayleigh’s relief. Her stomach was churning with the speed and the near misses. “Let me know where you want me to drop you.”
“Here would be fine.”
“By the shopping centre? But it’s closed.”
“I’m meeting some mates here.” Kayleigh crossed her fingers.
“Well I’m meeting mine at The Half Moon. Know it? It’s a club round the corner.” He screeched to a halt and then turned to face her. “If you get bored, come and find us.” He was looking at the bare flesh between the bottom of her T-shirt and the shorts. “OK?”
No way, she added silently to herself as she got out. Not with her stomach churning like this. They could have been bleeding killed. Then she remembered her manners. “Thanks for the lift.”
“Anytime. Give your mum my regards.”
Regards? It sounded like something out of a French book.
“Tell her that Monica’s son gave you a lift. She won’t like it.” He chuckled. “One of the reasons they fell out was that Alice wouldn’t let Garth come in the car with me. Something about me driving too fast. See you!”
Kayleigh shivered. Maybe she should have worn Garth’s jeans after all, even if they did make her look like a right idiot with those wide bottoms.
“Spare a quid?” wheedled a girl in the corner. She was sitting cross-legged on a filthy blanket with a dog at her side. There was a sign next to her saying “Hungree”.
Kayleigh put her hand in her pocket and pulled out Alice’s ten pound note. “Got any change?” she asked.
The girl cackled. “Are you kidding me?”
Now she felt really stupid. “I’ll go and get some.”
After all, did
n’t she know what it was like to be hungry and cold? That had been her a few weeks ago. Second thoughts, maybe it would be better if she bought the girl something to eat.
The queue at the fast food place took for ever. The homeless girl would think she’d forgotten, thought Kayleigh worriedly. While she waited, she kept her eyes open for anyone she and Marlene knew but this lot seemed to be a new crowd. Where was everyone?
“Special deal, please,” she said when it was finally her turn. The boy on the other side of the counter held the tenner up to the neon light above. Cheek. “Haven’t you seen ten quid before?”
“Yes. But not in your hand.”
She squinted at him. Bloody hell. It was a kid from her maths group.
“You knew my friend Marlene, didn’t you?”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
It was really noisy. It wasn’t just the din but also the iPod which someone was playing behind her. “Can you turn that down? I’m trying to speak.”
“Trying to speak, are yer?”
The bloke behind her spat on the ground. “Well I’m trying to eat. So take your bleeding food and move out of my way.”
He had a look of Frankie about him. Suddenly scared, Kayleigh did as she was told. It was only after she’d left that she checked her change. The maths kid had given her a pound less than he should have done. No time to go back or the homeless girl would think she’d gone off. And she knew that that felt like.
“Sorry it took so long.”
Kayleigh stopped. There was someone else sitting in the corner. This one had her hair shaved down one side. But the dog was still there as well as the ‘Hungree’ notice. “Where’s the other one,” she said desperately. “The girl who was sitting here before.”
“Gone to have a crap.”
The shaved headed girl – who seemed strangely familiar – eyed the food in her hand. “Got any spare?”
“Actually I bought it for the other one.”
The eyes narrowed. “Friend of yours, is she?”
“Not exactly but …”
