Keeping Sam

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Keeping Sam Page 10

by Joanne Phillips


  As the car sped away along the lane, Barbara sank to the ground and covered her face with her hands. The gravel was sharp at her knees and pierced her tights, drawing blood. She wept, soundlessly and without thinking, only aware of the pain in her heart and the pounding fear that beat at her mind like a pulse.

  Chapter 15

  ‘I think there’s a girl in here who needs caffeine.’

  Kate looked up from her sewing machine and offered Marie a weak smile. ‘You might be right,’ she said, stretching out the tension in her neck.

  Marie set the mugs down on the windowsill, then lowered herself onto Kate’s single bed – the only place in the room to sit, if you didn’t count the two rickety chairs at the dining-stroke-sewing table.

  ‘How are you bearing up, kiddo?’

  Kate let out a heavy sigh. ‘I’ve been better. Just when I thought things were looking positive, first Evan turns up, and then I have a massive row with my mother.’ She shook her head, her eyes brimming with unwanted tears. ‘I don’t know, Marie. Sometimes I wonder if my mother isn’t actually a bit crazy. The way she looks at me, the vitriol in her voice. She really, really hates me.’

  ‘She can’t hate you, she’s your mother. I might not have kids, but I know that much. Mums don’t hate their daughters, no matter what.’

  ‘Well, what is it, then?’ Kate asked, turning to face her friend. ‘I wish someone would explain it to me. I can understand that she’s become attached to Sam, and I can understand her being anxious at first, wondering if I was well enough to look after him, worried she might lose touch with me – and him – again. But yesterday … Ah, Marie. You’d have to have been there. She is one twisted woman.’

  ‘And she didn’t deny that it was her who contacted Evan? The story he told you was true?’

  Kate nodded.

  Marie let out a low whistle. ‘Wow, that’s cold. Going to all that trouble, tracking him down through social media and goodness knows what else – she must have been really desperate to find him.’

  ‘He said he was in Scotland, had been working there for a while. Said he knew nothing of the accident – that’s what he called it, an accident. He flew down, apparently, as soon as he got her message.’ Kate laughed bitterly. ‘I bet she even sent him the money for the air fare.’

  ‘What’s in it for her?’ Marie wondered aloud. ‘I mean, how does she know he won’t side with you?’

  ‘Evan will go where the money is,’ Kate said, turning down the corners of her mouth. ‘If I had a big enough bank balance I might be in with a chance, but as it is –’

  ‘Your mother will be pulling his strings,’ Marie finished. ‘Yes, I see.’ She regarded Kate thoughtfully. Kate could see her friend’s mind working overtime, and the next thing out of her mouth wasn’t a total surprise.

  ‘Although,’ Marie said, ‘you might have more to bargain with than you think. It seemed to me like he was very, very pleased to see you at the weekend, what with you looking so great and all – if a little soggy – and I was thinking –’

  ‘Don’t, Marie.’ Kate held up her hand, cutting her off. ‘Don’t even go there. It is absolutely not going to happen.’

  ‘Not even for Sam?’

  ‘That is not fair! And no, not even for Sam. Fine, I’ve said it. Because it wouldn’t be for Sam, would it? It would be to fight against her, and I’m not turning this into a fight. This is about what’s right, Marie. I have to keep hold of that. Don’t you understand? I’ll be lost otherwise.’

  Marie crossed the small room and gave Kate a hug. ‘You’re right,’ she said, ‘and I’m sorry for even thinking it. Now, let’s talk about something else. Did you and Patrick have a nice time on Saturday? I hope the weather didn’t spoil it for you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say spoil it exactly ...’ Kate felt her body heating up as she remembered the race through the woods, Patrick’s lips on hers, his warm hands on her cold, wet skin. She had felt like a teenager again. She had felt alive.

  ‘Come on, out with it. You were glowing when you walked in, both of you. I saw the look on your face, before you heard about Evan the terrible.’

  Kate shrugged. ‘He showed me his tree house.’

  ‘Did he now?’ Marie let out a loud guffaw and nudged Kate in the ribs. ‘Impressive, was it?’

  ‘That wasn’t a euphemism! He has a tree house in the woods. We had our picnic there.’

  ‘I know, I was just teasing. So, come on – let’s have the rest of it. Did you get on okay? Was he the perfect gentleman? Don’t keep me in suspense.’

  Kate gave Marie a brief account of their trip to the woods, growing pink in the face when she got to the part about falling asleep after lunch. ‘It was your fault,’ she said, ‘for making such a massive picnic.’

  Marie smiled, her eyes twinkling. ‘I see. And that was it? You just “fell asleep”?’

  ‘Don’t say it like that, as though it’s some kind of code. Yes, that was it. And then, well … You know the rest. There was a storm, we got wet. End of story.’

  ‘Which is why you were both so flushed when you got back,’ Marie said, smiling.

  Kate nodded. ‘The buildings he’s made out there are incredible. He’s very talented.’

  ‘And good with his hands, I’ll bet,’ Marie said dreamily.

  ‘Whatever.’ Kate sipped her coffee, trying to push the images of Patrick being good with his hands in all sorts of interesting ways out of her mind.

  ‘He likes you,’ Marie said, winking. ‘Look how he rushed to your rescue on Saturday. He practically threw Evan out of the house.’

  Kate grimaced at the memory. She hadn’t known what to do, how to face Evan after all this time. And when she’d walked into her room and seen him standing there, holding Sam’s little sailor suit and giving her that same old come-hither smile, his eyes the same eyes she’d gazed into for years and his body lean and compact, giving off his own personal brand of undeniable appeal … She had been lost then, racing back across the years, full of anger and confusion and bitter regret, unable to pull a single coherent thought out of her mind.

  Evan had the better of her, as usual. ‘Why, Kate,’ he’d said, ‘you look amazing. Your mum told me you’d been in hospital, some kind of accident? But look at you! Radiant as always, and with your own little entourage of adoring fans, of course.’

  This comment was aimed at Patrick and Marie, who had followed her into her room. Kate could see that Evan expected her to tell them to go, that he wanted this reunion to be private and on his own terms, but there was no way that was going to happen. It was only when he started talking about her mother, and how she’d dragged him down from Scotland that Kate had begun to react. And then the shaking had started so badly she could hardly stand up.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Evan said, genuinely puzzled. He’d looked at Patrick, his expression measuring, and directed his next question to him. ‘So what’s your story, mate?’

  Patrick’s expression darkened even further; he turned to Kate, his eyebrows raised. What do you want me to do? he seemed to be asking, but Kate was still shaking – she couldn’t think straight. She just wanted Evan to go away and leave her alone. She watched him, tracking his steps as he paced the room, picking up her things, putting them down. It was inconceivable that he was here, now. He belonged in Manchester, in the underbelly of a city, surrounded by high, blackened buildings and a small patch of sky. Not in Corrin Cove, standing by the dusty window with the light turning his white-blonde hair yellow and highlighting the sharpness of his cheekbones, the blueness of his eyes.

  ‘You can run along now,’ he said to Patrick and Marie, and he accompanied this with a little swishing motion of his hands. ‘Me and Kate want a bit of time on our own.’

  ‘No!’ She heard the word, and only then realised it was she who had spoken. Suddenly the spell was broken, and she was on her feet, bearing down on him, all the anger and resentment of the past few years spilling out of her broken heart.

 
That Patrick had ended up escorting Evan out of the house, possibly for Evan’s sake as much as her own, was still a source of embarrassment for Kate. And what happened outside her mother’s house was even worse.

  ‘I shouldn’t have let Patrick give me a lift to Woodland Cottage,’ she said now, chewing on her bottom lip. ‘It was just awful, my mum running out like that. What must he think of me?’

  She shouldn’t care, but she did.

  Marie shook her head, patting Kate’s shoulder consolingly. ‘No doubt he thinks you’re human, just like everyone else. And perhaps that you have a very odd family,’ she conceded. ‘But then, who doesn’t? Look at me and Big Tony! My family think I’m insane to be dating him again. But I tell them, he’s my first love. I’ve never been able to resist him – why should it be any different now?’

  Kate smiled. She’d yet to meet Big Tony, but she couldn’t help liking the sound of him – Marie’s down-to-earth enthusiasm was infectious. She glanced at her watch, then jumped up in alarm.

  ‘Marie, I can’t stand here talking all day – I’ve got an appointment with Elizabeth in half an hour.’

  Marie gathered up the coffee cups and headed for the door. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ she offered. ‘A bit of moral support?’

  ‘Thanks, but it’s only Elizabeth – I don’t think it will be too onerous.’

  ***

  ‘She said what?’

  Kate reeled back in her chair as though struck by an invisible hand. Elizabeth frowned, then shook her head.

  ‘I’m sorry, Kate. There’s nothing I can do. She said you can see him, but only at a neutral location. I thought the children’s centre here in Corrin Cove would be best – it’s fun for Samuel, and the staff are used to this kind of thing.’

  ‘They’re used to this kind of thing?’ Kate widened her eyes, incredulous. ‘They’re used to grandparents preventing a child’s own mother from visiting him in his own home? After that child’s mother was unable to look after him because she was in a coma after being attacked in her own home?’ Her voice grew louder with each word, her face growing redder and hotter as the blood pounded in her head. ‘Elizabeth, am I the only sane person around here? Can no one else see that this is wrong!’ She slammed her fist down on the table. Their coffee cups clattered in their saucers; a nearby customer glanced over, then resumed his conversation. ‘And,’ Kate added, her teeth clenched together so hard she could feel them grinding, ‘his name is not Samuel! It’s Sam. Just Sam.’

  Kate tried to calm her breathing. Elizabeth sat impassively, her expression unreadable.

  ‘My mother,’ Kate said slowly, ‘is treating me like I’m a danger to Sam, like I’m someone so unstable she’s afraid to have me in her house. But it’s her who’s unstable. Can’t you see that?’

  Still Elizabeth said nothing. Kate tapped her fingers on the table, her thoughts flying around her mind like angry wasps, every memory a sharp sting in the tail.

  ‘You know,’ she said, ‘this is all because of those drugs that were found in the flat. I’m right, aren’t I? My mother whipped Sam away from Manchester within a matter of weeks, and social services didn’t do anything to stop her. You cheered her on, helping her get the guardianship order, never once thinking what it would mean to me when I woke up.’ She noticed Elizabeth’s expression and laughed. ‘Oh, well, I don’t suppose anyone expected me to wake up, did they? But I did, and here I am – how inconvenient for everyone. The police would have arrested me if they thought there was any real evidence against me, but clearly they don’t. Why do you think that is?’

  ‘I suppose, as you say, there wasn’t enough evidence to press charges,’ Elizabeth agreed.

  ‘Right, exactly. And that’s because in actual fact there wasn’t any evidence to link me to the drugs because I had nothing to do with them being there. Someone must have planted them.’ Kate’s eyes narrowed suddenly. She sat up straighter and clasped her hands together. ‘You know, I have an idea who might have done it.’

  ‘Who?’ Elizabeth said tiredly.

  ‘My mother! Don’t you see? It all makes sense. She must have taken my key while I was in hospital and snuck in and planted the drugs in the toilet cistern herself. She’d planned to get Sam away from me all along, even when she came to stay earlier in the year. She never thought I was good enough to be a mum, has never forgiven me for what I said about my father when I left home. Oh, it all makes sense now. That’s why she’s been so upset since I came back – and that’s why she never came to visit, even after I woke up and started to get better.’

  ‘The police found them when they searched your flat directly after you were attacked,’ Elizabeth pointed out. ‘So your mother couldn’t have stolen your keys and hidden them there herself.’

  ‘She might have done it when she was staying with me, though. I wouldn’t have noticed. The stuff could have been there for months.’

  ‘No, it couldn’t. The police report said that the landlord had to fix the toilet only a month before the break-in. There was nothing hidden there. He would have noticed.’

  ‘Well, fine. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t her.’

  ‘And how precisely do you imagine your mother got her hands on three bags of cannabis resin, Kate? In Manchester, while looking after Sam and visiting you in hospital?’

  Kate shrugged. ‘She’s clearly a resourceful woman. She found Evan, didn’t she? That’s not an easy thing to do.’

  Elizabeth gathered together her phone and keys, then sat back and faced Kate squarely. ‘I think this new arrangement will be better for you and Sam. The children’s centre is a great environment, and you won’t have to keep rubbing up against your parents. You’ll see him there three times a week – I’ll come along the first time, show you the lie of the land. It won’t be for long. You know that.’

  ‘I have a bad feeling about Evan,’ Kate said, leaning low across the table and dropping her voice. ‘Did my mother say anything to you about him when she phoned?’

  ‘Not one word.’ The social worker stood up; their meeting was over. Kate rose and followed her to the door of the café.

  ‘Is she letting him see Sam, do you think?’ That would be the worst kind of insult. Not that Kate imagined Evan would be bothered about seeing his son anyway.

  Elizabeth shrugged. ‘Look, I’m doing all I can. The only thing you can do now is dig in and wait for the court date. Sooner or later your mother will have to come to terms over this. What you decide to do then – about Sam’s dad or your parents – will be up to you.’

  Kate flopped down onto a wrought iron bench outside the café and watched Elizabeth drive away. After a while she got up again, but found she couldn’t face returning to Bow Hill yet. Instead, she headed for the beach. She would sit for a while and gaze out to sea, the way she had all those years ago whenever she felt overwhelmed or saw that the world didn’t understand her. Those teenage concerns seemed so small now, so insignificant, and Kate longed to go back to a simpler time – even just a year ago, when all she’d had to think about was where the next meal was coming from and whether she’d be able to afford her rent. Or whether she’d ever be able to sleep through the night again.

  She laughed to herself: a bitter, unhappy sound. Be careful what you wish for. There she had been, struggling with a baby, wishing someone would just let her sleep. She’d have liked to have slept for a week. She’d been given the best part of a year. And then she’d woken up to find that her whole world had been turned upside down while she slept on, helpless and unaware.

  At the edge of the beach she took off her trainers and socks and walked across the compacted sand to where the sea curled back in on itself in a swelling, sucking, continuous motion. The water was icy on her toes, but after a while she got used to it. She turned up her jeans and waded in to her shins. She stretched out her arms, not caring who saw her, not caring at all. And she allowed the sound of the sea to fill her ears, drowning out all her bitter thoughts, at least for a while.
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br />   Chapter 16

  The two hours Kate spent at the children’s centre with Sam were, as Elizabeth had predicted, stress-free and fun. There was a stay-and-play session in progress, and Kate enjoyed being just another mum spending time with her toddler, stepping in from time to time to negotiate the sharing of a toy, feeling joy whenever her boy came running to her for help or reassurance. But whereas all the other parents would get to take their offspring home at the end of the session, Kate had to walk away and leave Sam with Elizabeth, who would be overseeing the handover back to Kate’s mother.

  As far as the other mums were concerned, Kate was just like them, and she was glad of the anonymity. There was one awkward moment when Kate recognised someone she’d gone to school with, a girl called Denise who was now the mother of twin baby girls and a rowdy boy of four, but the woman was so harassed she barely gave Kate a second glance. Kate knew she was practically unrecognisable as the Katherine who had left Corrin Cove at eighteen. She was much thinner now, her hair longer and darker. Life had left its mark on her face – the years spent partying and eating too little and worrying about what Evan was up to had made her drawn around the eyes, her skin pale with fine lines on her forehead. Denise had fared far better, Kate noticed. Blooming with health and vitality, the girl had blossomed into a beautiful woman, and her clothing and manicured nails spoke of an enviously affluent lifestyle.

  Kate spent as much time as she could simply gazing at Sam, drinking him in, reaching out to touch his back, his arms, his chunky little legs whenever he toddled past her.

 

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