by Jack Jordan
‘What’s up, girls?’
‘Hi,’ they said together.
‘Violet’s upset, I forgot to wash her top.’
‘Lily,’ said Lily. ‘I’m upset, not Violet.’
‘Yes, sorry.’
Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Shut up, Rose, you sound pathetic.
‘You look great, Lily love. The boys have run ahead, you might be able to catch them.’
The girls looked up at Rose, who nodded in approval. They scampered off for the field with their boots knocking against their chests.
‘How are you really?’ Heather asked, touching her again.
Tears welled in her eyes.
‘Don’t, Heather,’ she said and covered her face. She turned her back on the parents pulling into the car park and faced the body of the car.
‘Oh, lovey,’ Heather said and placed a hand on her back.
‘I’m sorry. I’m just so tired.’
‘You shouldn’t be driving this exhausted.’
‘What else am I supposed to do?’ she snapped.
Heather’s expression fell.
‘I’m sorry. It’s just. . . the girls shouldn’t be impacted by my failures. I wasn’t going to drive, but I was so tired I forgot to call a taxi. We waited for it for twenty minutes, a cab I hadn’t even booked.’
She laughed at herself, how pathetic she was.
‘You’re not a failure, Rose. Insomnia is an illness.’
‘Well, I feel like I am. I’m always letting them down. I snap at them all the time, forget things. They must hate me, think I don’t love them, when I do, Heather, I really, really do.’
‘I know you do, and they do too. Where’s Christian?’
‘Working,’ she said.
‘Aren’t there any tablets you can take to help?’
‘Don’t you think I’ve tried that? I’ve been prescribed every drug out there. One made me a zombie, another made me vomit for three days straight. The others didn’t even make a dent, I just remained awake, stumbling around like a drunk. I’ve tried everything, Heather.’
‘Look, why don’t you kip in the car during the game? I can watch the girls and then bring them back with me.’
‘I can’t ask you to do that. You’re always helping me.’
‘That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?’
She glanced at the passenger seat through the window and saw herself there, lying back against the reclined seat. She’d had so many opportunities to sleep last night, but it was now when she needed to stay awake that her body decided to shut down. She shook her head.
‘I can’t.’ She walked round to the boot for her bag and arranged it on her shoulder, the camping chair poking out like a sail mast. ‘I’m always letting them down. I need to be here for them.’
‘If you’re sure. . .’
‘I am.’ She shut the boot with a bang and locked the car.
The army of parents waited by the pitch, camping chairs arranged, tea poured into mugs from flasks, babies nestled against shoulders and breasts. A group of fathers stood close to the sidelines, huddled together like a third team waiting in the wings. All of the mothers looked pristine. Over thirty of them turned their heads at their arrival, some waving, some simply looking them up and down before turning their attention back to their children warming up on the pitch.
Rose looked down at the stained tracksuit she had pulled on, the flip-flops slapping against her heels, her naked nails bitten to the quick.
‘Morning, ladies,’ Heather said as she pitched up her chair with the same group they always sat with, six women who slept soundly.
Rose forced a smile in greeting and tried to ignore the women glancing her up and down.
Heather mingled, fitting in with the other mums effortlessly, unlike Rose, who stuck out like the runt of the litter, the pup with the lazy eye or undeveloped leg. She took out the camping chair, which snapped shut the moment she opened it up. She tried again. It snapped shut. The rage swelled in her, tuning out the natter and the whistle from the football coach ushering the children in, until all she could hear was the thump of her heart racing in her ears.
‘Come on, you fucker!’ she said, too loud.
She returned to the sound of gasps.
The mothers were staring at her, eyes wide and brows creased with disgust. The children on the pitch were a huddle of faces looking her way, gasps and giggles erupting in a sudden whoosh. Both of the twins burnt red and turned away.
‘Let me help,’ Heather said, crouching over her. Her sweet perfume filled Rose’s nostrils.
Heather, you’re perfect. Why can’t I be like you? Like them?
‘I’m sorry,’ Rose whispered.
‘Hey, it’s probably the most excitement they’ve had all weekend.’
Heather patted the seat and ushered her down by her shoulders, as though she was guiding a stumbling drunk.
‘Let’s get you some tea,’ she said. ‘Adeline, can you spare some?’
‘I only have eucalyptus infusion,’ she said through pursed lips.
‘Laura?’
‘Green tea?’
Rose hated green tea. Laura knew that.
‘It’s okay,’ Rose said. ‘I have a flask of coffee.’
A second whistle blew and the game began as she rummaged around in the bag, filled with used wet wipes, empty chocolate wrappers, her one emergency cigarette crumpled beneath the mess, ground into brown dust and coating everything. She had forgotten the coffee. She could see it now, standing tall on the countertop, the metal flask twinkling in the sun as it poured through the window.
A tear fell into the bag.
Stop crying. You’re an embarrassment.
She zipped the bag shut and dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. When she turned around, Heather was smiling, flask in hand. ‘I never forget coffee.’
The other mothers were staring at her, her failures more alluring than the game.
‘You’re a star.’
‘I know,’ Heather said with a wink, pouring the black coffee into Rose’s unwashed mug. Another thing she had forgotten to do.
The game began. Children in yellow shirts ran back and forth, mixing with the opposition dressed in green. The coffee was good, but the mug was as heavy as her eyelids, closing as though they were being stitched together and shutting out the light.
Her head dropped suddenly, and she woke with a gasp. All the mothers were staring at her. She glanced up at Heather from where she had slumped in the chair. Heather mouthed it was okay and gave her a reassuring wink.
Rose turned back to the game, looking for the twins amongst the masses of skin and hair.
Before she knew it, her head dropped again, so hard that something clicked in her neck. A whimper escaped her lips as she woke.
‘For God’s sake,’ Adeline hissed.
‘Why don’t you go and have a nap in the car?’ Heather whispered, a hand on her arm with that painful touch again, as though she had slipped her fingers beneath the skin and was strumming Rose’s nerves with her fingernails.
‘I’m fine. Sorry. I just need more coffee.’
‘Here.’ Heather topped up her mug.
She breathed in the delicious scent and watched the steam curl up from the mug, but it wasn’t long until her eyelids flickered and her head lowered as though someone was pulling her down by her hair.
‘Mum?’
Rose woke up with a jolt. Cold coffee seeped into her tracksuit bottoms. It had felt like seconds since her last sip of hot coffee, and yet she knew time had passed from the sickness that clung to her. It was almost worse, sleeping so lightly.
Clouds had smothered the sky while she slept, throwing a grey tint on everything she set her eyes on. Mothers had wrapped themselves in cardigans and pashminas and were slowly packing away their things. Heather wasn’t there.
Lily was peering down at her, her cheeks red with shame, mud flicked above her brow and streaked in her hair.
Rose looked down at the brown coffee seep
ing through her clothes.
‘Shit.’
‘Mum!’
‘Rose, please watch your language,’ Adeline said as she snapped her chair shut. ‘You might raise your children differently to us at home, but here, you need to respect ours.’
Dispersing mothers glared back at her, muttering about her beneath their breaths.
‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,’ she said and rubbed her eyes, unknowingly smearing her mascara into black clouds.
Adeline looked her up and down one last time and ushered her children towards the car park.
‘How was the game?’ she asked Lily. ‘Did you win?’
‘You would know if you’d been awake,’ Lily said under her breath.
‘We lost, Mummy,’ Violet said from the other side of the chair. Rose hadn’t even seen her. ‘But it was fun.’
‘You weren’t benched,’ Lily spat.
‘Why were you benched? What happened?’
‘Doesn’t matter.’
Lily slumped off, kicking at the grass until green and brown clumps flew across the turf. Thunder grumbled in the distance.
‘She’ll be okay, Mummy. It was just a tackle.’
‘I’m sorry I’m so crap, Vi,’ Rose said, pulling her in for a hug.
‘You’re not crap.’
‘I love you,’ Rose said and kissed her daughter’s forehead. Lily wouldn’t let her give her affection; all she was allowed was a quick kiss on the forehead before she went to sleep, and that was only on a good day. It had taken some getting used to, feeling her daughter squirm to get out of her embrace and steel against her lips.
‘I love you too,’ Violet said. She licked her fingers and wiped the smudged mascara beneath Rose’s eyes. ‘You have panda eyes.’
‘I must look a right state, huh? You’re probably embarrassed of me.’
‘No, I’m not,’ she said, her voice tinged with the lie.
Thanks for trying, Vi.
‘Come on, let’s get you home.’
They headed off for the car to the first flash of lightning, and met Lily there, kicking at the gravel.
Rose waved at Heather who was grappling with her youngest to get him inside her car. Rose had wondered why Heather hadn’t woken her; now she knew. Heather waved back, forming her hand to resemble a phone and putting it to her ear. Rose nodded and unlocked the car. She would call her once she had slept. She was only twenty minutes away from home. A short drive and she would finally be able to close her eyes; she just had to stay alert until then.
THREE
Rain pummelled against the windscreen. The brake lights from the car in front squirmed on the other side of the water. Rose glanced in the rear-view mirror at the back seats where Lily sulked with her arms crossed and a knitted brow, and Violet hummed along to the song on the radio, kicking the back of the passenger’s seat to the beat.
The windows had steamed up and the heat from their bodies filled the car, weighing down her eyelids.
She shook her head roughly and clenched the wheel until her hands felt numb.
You’ll be home soon. Ten minutes and you’re home. The girls can crash in front of the TV while you sleep.
‘What time is Daddy home?’ Violet asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ she replied, grateful for the distraction. ‘I’ll ring him when we’re back.’
The car fell quiet again. The song on the radio was slow and smooth, like a lullaby. Rose flicked between the stations, trying to find something with a beat to knock her awake.
‘I liked that one!’
‘Sorry, Lily, I need something livelier.’
Lily sighed heavily, tightening the knit of her arms. Violet drew hearts in the condensation on the window with the peel of a satsuma on her lap, the scent staining the air.
The car shuddered as it veered to the right, jutting over the cat’s eyes in the middle of the road. An oncoming car honked its horn. She swerved back into the left-hand lane just in time.
‘Shit,’ she said and clenched the steering wheel until the leather squeaked beneath her palms. She eyed the car behind her in the rear-view mirror.
Just get over the bridge and you’re home.
‘Adeline said you shouldn’t swear,’ Lily said, after they had all caught their breaths.
Whose side are you on?
‘Well, Adeline says a lot of things.’
They reached the bridge, its steel beams towering over them like ribs.
The river was dark and grey, reflecting the thick knit of clouds. Even through the metal of the car and the glass of the windows, she was sure she could smell it, the tang of the water ripping through Rearwood from the Thames.
Her eyelids flickered again. She shook her head, stared at the road until her eyes burnt, and lowered the window to feel the cold air against her face. Rain splattered against her cheek.
‘It’s getting on me!’ Lily said behind her.
‘Sorry.’
She closed the window and widened her eyes, not daring to blink, powerless as they cranked shut.
She woke to the girls’ screaming and the sound of a horn blaring in her skull. She yanked the wheel to the left, missing the oncoming car by an inch, and collided with the side of the bridge.
Metal twisted. The headlights shattered. The car ricocheted off the bridge wall and spun across the road until the steering wheel turned wildly beneath her palms. The tyres screeched against the tarmac as the car veered head on into the side of the bridge again and thick, black smoke burst through the air vents. The airbag blasted out in a flash of white powder. Rose felt her nose crack, saw her own blood explode from her nostrils.
The side of the bridge split with the impact like parting lips, and spat them out until they were airborne, weightless for mere seconds before the car began to nosedive towards the river. Rose screamed and waited for the blow, her stomach forcing past her lungs and rising to her throat.
The windscreen cracked as the nose of the car hit the water, jolting them forwards. Her body wretched against the belt, cutting into her skin.
The river began to drag the car beneath the surface, creeping over the bonnet and edging up the glass, giving them a glimpse of the dark depths beneath.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ she yelled, quietened by the whine of the sinking car. Glass cracked in the windscreen. Blood dripped from her nose and warmed her lips. ‘I promise it’ll be okay!’
The girls screamed as water poured through the air vents and filled the footwells until brown waves were chopping at Rose’s feet. The radio was silenced with a quick spark and puff of smoke.
Rose fumbled with her seat belt, watching the dark water creep up the glass. Inside, it enveloped her feet and began to spit through the cracks in the windscreen in jet streams, creating new breaks, each larger than the last.
She unclipped the belt and snapped around, wincing from the pain in her neck, and reached for the closest child. Lily was red in the face, tears oozing from her eyes and snot from her nostrils. She had a bloody lip and a welt on her head. She put her hands out and clawed for Rose.
‘We’re going to be all right!’ Rose shouted.
She unclipped the belt and dragged Lily forwards, untangling her small limbs to place her in the passenger seat. The water was so dark that she couldn’t see the floor of the car. Lily screamed and dug her nails into Rose’s arm until she bled.
‘Lily, I need to get Violet!’
But Lily wouldn’t listen; she clawed and screamed as the water crept over the edge of the seat and onto her legs. The glass in the windscreen continued to crack as the car sank and bubbles rose behind the glass. Jets of water sprayed at Rose’s back, so cold that she flinched with the impact. The water seeped beneath her, numbing the flesh until it felt as though it was curdling the fat in her thighs.
‘Come on, Vi,’ she said as she leaned towards her and reached out for the belt clip. Violet was stunned, her wide eyes set on her mother’s. Her skin was drained of blood and shimmered with tear
s. Her lips were red and wet. She stared down at the small tooth resting in the palm of her hand, felt the new gap in her mouth with her tongue and winced.
The water lapped around Rose’s waist.
‘Vi! Look at me!’
She looked up. Tears fell from both eyes.
‘My tooth.’
Her voice was so delicate, so innocent, that Rose had to bite back the tears.
‘I know, darling, but we have to go!’
She reached for her, fumbling with the seat belt as Lily’s fingernails dug into the flesh on her back. She unclipped Violet’s belt just as the car jolted, hitting the rocky bed of the river with a booming thud. Violet slammed into the back of the passenger seat just as Rose was pulled under water with the impact and dragged towards the break in the windscreen. Glass bit into the flesh on her back; her screams were nothing but bubbles of air. Water gushed around her body and forced her back into the car. She instinctively drew a breath and inhaled icy water into her lungs. She clawed wildly until she broke through the surface, hitting her head on the roof with a crack. Water spluttered from her lips and stung her eyes.
‘Violet! Lily!’
She whipped her head around, but saw nothing but the chop of the water as it rose to the roof. The rear windscreen was dark with the water on the other side, waiting to be let in.
She couldn’t see them. The water splashed against her chin as it rose. She took one last desperate breath, just as the water reached the roof.
She thrashed through the murky water and felt a small hand grip hers. She pulled the body to her and arms wrapped around her neck, just as the last of the windscreen shattered and the force dragged them from the car.
The current silenced their screams and ripped them this way and that, desperate to sever them. Rose held on to the small wrist so tightly that she felt bones snap beneath her grasp. The water was so cold that she couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
Suddenly she broke through the surface and gasped in air. Rain pummelled down from the sky and thunder clapped above her head.
The bridge was far away now, rising in and out of view from the choppy water, a gaping hole in the barrier where they had burst through. She spotted the bank and clawed towards it, listening to her daughter’s cry close to her neck.
