You haven’t even said good morning to me. You never notice me, do you? Pushing your hair back from your eyes as you approach the kettle, you finally condescend to say, ‘Oh, hello, Caprice.’
Well done, Saffron. You’ve acknowledged me for once.
I smile a tight smile. ‘Good morning. I’ve just made coffee. Would you like some?’
‘Yes, please.’
I pour you a cup, and hand it to you. You blink sleepily, and start to leave the kitchen. ‘Please join me, dear. Sit down. I’ve got something to show you.’
You turn around and frown, as if joining me is the last thing you want to do. But you do as I request and sit down next to me. I whip my iPhone from my pocket and open my photos. My picture of Hayley and Miles embracing fills the screen. I took it the night after their opera treat. If she asks, I was by the kitchen window, on the way to water the hibiscus I had just planted, when I had my photo opportunity. But the truth is, I was hovering, warmly dressed outside – hoping to catch them together. And I’ve had it Photoshopped a bit.
‘Look at this, dear.’
You take the phone from me and sit studying the photograph. Your lips begin to tremble. And then your fingers. Your face reddens. You turn towards me.
‘I know what you did. This is all your plotting, Caprice. What a stupid ploy to resort to the same trick again. I know this was a stitch-up.’
I smile slowly. ‘Trick? Stitch-up?’ I laugh, a sharp little laugh.
‘Yes. It was a hug of friendship.’
My smile widens. ‘Do you really believe that? Why don’t you look at the photograph more closely?’
84
Saffron
‘Look at the photograph more closely,’ you say, curving your lips into a thin contemptuous smile.
I stand up and throw your iPhone to the floor. I watch it smash against designer travertine. I move towards you, press my fingers around your throat, and shake you.
‘If you behave like this again, it will be you I smash to pieces, not your phone,’ I spit.
85
Caprice
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. It’s going to be a nuisance sorting out a new iPhone. But, Saffron, wait until I tell Miles you have assaulted me. Bruises on my neck and the remnants of my iPhone as evidence against you. Your intense reaction is far more than I could have hoped for.
86
Saffron
In the privacy of our bedroom, Miles is pushing concerned eyes into mine.
‘What happened?’ he asks. ‘What’s Mother done, this time? She told me you’d smashed her iPhone, and attacked her.’
‘And did she tell you why?’
‘Of course not. That’s why I’m asking.’
I tell him, and as I tell him I burst into tears and cry. ‘I just can’t cope with any more of this. She’ll have to move out.’
‘But, she’s old. She’s lonely. She’s vulnerable.’
Her contemptuous smile sears across my mind. My ears fill with her comments. I shake my head. ‘About as vulnerable as a hippopotamus.’
‘Are they vulnerable?’
I laugh. ‘No. They’re the deadliest of all mammalian man-killers.’
‘Are you saying my mother is a killer?’ he asks.
‘Well, she’s certainly killing me.’
Miles frowns. ‘Look, why don’t we get away for a break? Just us and the boys. We could go skiing for a week, leave Mother behind.’
‘A week is nowhere near long enough. I need her to go. I want her to move out,’ I hiss.
‘Back into the annex?’
‘No. To another house.’
Miles puts his head in his hands. ‘But … but … I can’t, Saffron, she’s my mother. I have to look after her for the rest of her life. She’s lost my dad. She needs our support.’
‘What about me?’
‘I love you both. I have to look after both of you.’
I shake my head. ‘You can’t have us both. One of us will have to go.’
Miles looks crestfallen. ‘I just can’t ask my mother to leave.’
He goes downstairs. To spend time with the children? Or to speak to Caprice? I’m too depressed to care.
I curl into a ball and fall asleep. I slip into my constantly recurring dream. The dream that seems real, and so familiar. We walk into the church. It is Caprice’s funeral. I stand staring at the silver cross on the altar, transfixed. It rotates towards me, becoming larger and larger. I wake with a jolt. For a second I feel relief that my nemesis is dead. Then I remember. She’s alive. With a smashed iPhone, and bruises around her neck, caused by me.
She’ll be around for all my life unless I kill her. If I don’t kill her, being near her will kill me.
87
Caprice
‘Hayley, do come for a walk in the garden with me.’
‘Good idea – I could do with a break from my chores. Thank you.’
I link my arm in hers. We walk down the passage, through the trees, and step into my garden.
‘It’s still colourful and it’s almost into January. The worst month for garden colour,’ Hayley exclaims.
‘Well, I do know a thing or two about plants,’ I reply.
I point out Viburnum, and Sarcococca. Sweet-smelling Lonicera climbing up the fence.
‘Look at those fuzzy felt-like firecrackers. What are they?’ Hayley asks.
‘Hamamelis.’
‘And the pretty star-shaped pinks?’
‘Daphne bholua, Jacqueline Postill.’
We sit in our usual spot, on the bench beneath the weeping willow. It’s mild for January, but grey. Misty grey sky with Brillo pad clouds. Drizzle hanging in the air, making my skin feel damp, even though it isn’t raining.
‘I’m worried about Saffron,’ I start.
‘Oh, why?’ Hayley asks.
‘There’s been another incident.’
I roll the collar of my jacket down and show her the bruises on my neck.
She inhales sharply. ‘Saffron did that?’
‘She put her fingers around my neck and tightened them.’
Hayley sits, eyes wide with concern. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out the plastic bag containing the remnants of my iPhone.
I swing it in front of her face. ‘And this is what she did to my phone.’
‘Tell me what happened exactly.’
‘I said something that seemed to annoy her. Nothing much. I had just made her a cup of coffee and was telling her about my plans for the garden. Where I was thinking of planting some Hostas. Showing her a photo of the flowerbed on my phone. She began to shout – saying how much she hated me living here and was fed up with me taking over the garden. The next thing I knew she grabbed it from my hands and stamped up and down on it, smiling maliciously.’ I pause for breath. ‘Then when it was destroyed she grabbed my neck and tried to throttle me.’
‘Why on earth did she behave like that?’
‘Well, I’ve seen her slap Miles. She’s just violent.’
‘If she slapped Miles I expect she was provoked.’
I tighten my lips. ‘Well, I didn’t do anything to provoke her.’ I pause. ‘I screamed and shouted until she stopped. I can look after myself … It’s the children I’m worried about.’
Hayley shakes her head in consternation. ‘I’m shocked, but I can assure you I’ve only ever seen her behave with patience and kindness towards the children.’
Seeing that I need to try another tack, I put my hand on her arm. ‘I’m just asking you to keep an eye out for any unusual behaviour, that’s all. I mean, if she’s secretly having a breakdown, she’ll need our help, won’t she?’
88
Saffron
Ted steps into my office more casually dressed than usual, wearing a two-piece rather than a three-piece suit.
‘How’s it going?’ I ask.
He smiles. ‘Not bad, not bad. Eight more months of the bank loan to tide us over. I’m impressed by the list of potential new c
lients you’re planning to target.’
I grimace. ‘I didn’t do well with Joshua Cassidy.’
He leans towards me. ‘Saffron, we only need to catch one.’
‘It hurt me, what he said in the email, about wanting someone younger, more dynamic.’
He shrugs and twists his hands so that his palms face the ceiling. ‘You win some and you lose some. You mustn’t be so sensitive.’
‘Talking about sensitive, I need your help with something which is just that.’
‘Come on, Saffron. That’s fine. We’ve known each other forever. Try me.’
I stir uncomfortably in my chair. ‘I need to know how to use the darknet.’
He stiffens. ‘Whatever for?’
‘It’s embarrassing.’
‘Try me.’
‘I want to buy some fetish stuff for Miles and me. I don’t want the family to ever find out.’
Ted’s eyes shine with curiosity. My stomach tightens.
‘I do know a bit about it,’ he replies. ‘I enjoyed my master’s in computer science, before I took the plunge and became an accountant. My friend Stan, from the course, is quite a whizz kid, I talk to him about the darknet sometimes.’
‘I know you have connections. That’s why I asked. I just don’t ever want anyone to know about this. I’m so embarrassed. I need to know how to cover my tracks.’
‘Why do you need to do that? Why can’t you get fetish gear from “normal” sources? It’s quite mainstream these days.’
‘If Caprice found out, she’d make out I was a pervert. She’s always got it in for me. You know that.’
‘I can put you in touch with Stan, about covering your tracks. He makes a lot of money on the side, helping people to navigate the darknet. He’s a wealthy man in fact.’
I lean across and take his hand. I hold his eyes with mine. ‘Thank you.’
‘I think it’s actually much simpler than people think. You just need Tor encryption to enter it. I’ll get in touch with Stan so that he can send you the link. He’ll be able to show you how to use it and remain undetectable. But you won’t know who you’re dealing with.’ He pauses. ‘And it’s a nasty world out there.’
‘I’m capable of looking after myself.’
He stands up, leans across my desk and kisses me gently on the cheek. ‘Be careful, Saffron. You’re my dear friend. You’re precious to me.’
89
Hayley
It’s February half-term, and Saffron has taken a week off to spend time with Ben and Harry. And even though she has given me the week off too, today she is taking Ben and Harry to London Zoo, and I’ve asked to go with them, to help. That way Saffron pays for my ticket and my lunch. I will be able to take loads of photos of the oldest zoo in the world and send them back home. My mum has been pestering me to send some photographs of London for a while. London is somewhere she always wanted to visit, but never got the opportunity. And of course I’ll be writing a blow-by-blow account for her in my diary.
After today I’m going to spend the rest of the week with Jono. He’s promised to take me to both the cinema and the theatre. And to Nando’s in Walton-on-Thames. Hardly Rules of Covent Garden with its intimate private booths and uniformed doorman. But at least it is something to do.
But today, Monday 19th February, at London Zoo we are starting with the reptile house. Taking a photo outside. Ben and Harry jumping up and down with excitement. We have watched an old clip of the Magic Roundabout, so they’re pretending to be Zebedee. ‘Boing, boing,’ they shout as they jump.
‘Let’s see the spiders first,’ Harry insists.
I shudder inside.
‘It’s a walk-through exhibit,’ Saffron explains as she stands engrossed in the zoo’s brochure.
‘I’ll give it a miss then,’ I try.
‘No. No,’ Harry says. ‘You’ve got to come with me. I want to hold your hand, Hayley.’
Saffron looks at me with concern. ‘Don’t make her if she doesn’t want to.’
‘Please. Please, Hayley, please.’
‘OK,’ I say, trying to push my fear of spiders away. But who can refuse the request of an angelic young child? I mustn’t communicate my dread to him. Harry holds my hand tightly. His hand in mine emboldens me. Ben attaches himself to Saffron’s. We step inside and are surrounded by ugly pulpy bodies and dangling legs. Some spiders are behind glass. Some are lying in webs which almost brush against our faces. I want to scream. I wince and step back.
A young zookeeper, in a smart beige uniform, walks towards me. ‘The spiders in the open are completely docile. They never leave their webs. They’re totally harmless to humans. We would never let them roam like this if there was any danger.’
He walks along with us to reassure me. The children seem totally unconcerned.
‘Look at the social spiders – this is their house,’ he says, pointing to a big wobbly mess of spider silk, clumped together like a mass of ripped-up plastic. ‘They are amongst the most unusual spiders in the world. They live together, and even bring up their young together.’ We stand looking through the glass into their ‘house’. A palpitating mass of spongy bodies writhing together.
‘Onwards and forwards,’ the zookeeper says with a cheery smile, walking us past a display bathroom. A big black hairy spider appears from the plughole. The sort I most particularly hate.
‘Harry, please stay with your mum for a few minutes. I need some fresh air.’
I rush through the rest of the exhibit and step outside. I breathe deeply. Inhale. Exhale. Fresh air as exquisite as the best champagne. After a while Saffron, Harry and Ben join me.
‘We’ve seen all the spiders now. We’re off to see the rest of the reptile house. Please, please come with us.’
Snakes, crocodiles, lizards. Exotic creatures with scaly skin and cold dead eyes. Flashing forked tongues that smell of poison and devilry. Flashing forked tongues that make me tremble inside.
The boys love them. ‘Mummy, mummy, can we have them as pets? A snake and a lizard?’
‘No way. Hayley would leave us if we frightened her with a scaly pet, and we don’t want that, do we?’
‘No, Mummy.’ They stand looking up at Saffron, shaking their heads.
‘Come on,’ I say, keen to leave this area. ‘Let’s go to the gorilla house.’
Gorilla Kingdom is a colony of six western lowland gorillas. A father, mother and four offspring. So hauntingly like humans, with the mother and father caring and children playing.
‘This type of gorilla is critically endangered in the wild,’ Saffron reads from the brochure.
As we step away, Harry trips and grazes his knee. Saffron wraps her arms around him and hugs him as tears stream down his cheeks.
‘Kiss it better, Mummy, please.’
She kneels down and kisses his bleeding knee, so, so, gently. One touch from her lips and he feels better. His tears dry instantly. He beams a sunny smile at her and skips off to join Harry, who is standing engrossed by the tiger enclosure.
How can Saffron possibly be a woman who could hurt her children? All I ever see is love.
90
Caprice
‘Granny,’ Harry says.
‘Don’t call me that,’ I tell him for the millionth time. My younger grandson has the memory of a goldfish.
‘Sorry.’ He pauses. ‘Why have you got a dog cage? Are we getting a puppy?’
‘No. We’re playing a game.’
‘What is it, Caprice?’ my elder grandson wants to know.
‘You both take your clothes off, get in the cage, and then pretend to cry. The one who cries the most wins the prize.’
‘What’s the prize?’ they ask, almost in unison.
I show them the stash of sweets and chocolate in my carrier bag. Cadbury’s Dairy Milk. Rolo. Twix. Mars Bars. Snickers. Haribo Tangfastics. Gummy bears. Starmix. Giant sour suckers. All their favourites. Whichever one wins, I know they will share.
‘And then can we go to McDonald�
��s for lunch?’ Ben tries.
‘Of course,’ I reply with a smile.
91
Hayley
I’m sitting beneath the weeping willow with Caprice, snowdrops tilting their teardrop heads towards us. The first crocuses are beginning to show.
‘There’s something you need to look at,’ Caprice says, pulling her iPhone from her pocket.
She taps her phone so that a photograph spreads across the screen, then hands it to me.
Ben and Harry, naked, locked in a small animal cage. Crying.
‘What’s this?’ I ask, confused. ‘Is it a silly game?’
I take a deep breath. ‘No. Saffron leaves them like this when she’s supposed to be looking after them. She’s nuts. She can’t cope with them. I’ve been secretly watching her.’
I shake my head. ‘This is outrageous. Ridiculous. It doesn’t sound a bit like Saffron.’
Caprice shrugs. ‘Look in the back of her wardrobe if you don’t believe me. That’s where she keeps the cage. Then she goes to the dining room to do paperwork.’
‘But she could just put them in front of a cartoon on Netflix while she works,’ I protest. ‘She doesn’t need to cage them.’
‘You still don’t get it, do you? You must have heard her slapping Miles in the face. She’s cruel. She’s violent. She puts them in a cage to hurt them and punish them. What do I have to do to convince you she’s dangerous?’
I smile politely. ‘Aren’t the crocuses lovely?’ I say in an attempt to distract her.
Sometimes Caprice gets so worked up. As if Saffron would put the children in a cage while she got on with her work. It’s obviously a game. I’m very fond of Caprice, but sometimes, just sometimes, I wonder whether her age is affecting her brain.
92
Caprice
I look into your strong brown eyes, Hayley, and know you don’t believe me. I need to ramp up the situation. The boys need to look as if they have been hurt. Really hurt. I will make it look as if they’ve been hurt without truly harming them. I’m an exceptionally loving grandmother. It’s for their good in the long run.
The Unwelcome Guest Page 14
