The Good Samaritan
Page 48
‘Effie’s at home,’ Tony replied.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is she alone?’
‘No, she’s babysitting Alice.’ He sounded hesitant.
‘I want to see her.’
Tony shook his head. ‘We talked about this, Laura, I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘She’s my daughter,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘They are both my daughters. I need to see them tonight.’
‘We agreed that you wouldn’t visit the girls until they were old enough to make their own decisions.’ I glared at him as fragments of an argument from long ago flashed through my head. ‘Do you remember?’ he asked.
‘Yes, of course I do,’ I replied, but in truth, a fog was descending from nowhere and everything was becoming muddled. ‘But I need to go home and make sure they’re okay. Please, Tony, just take me home.’
Acknowledging my angst, he took my hand in his and spoke softly. ‘Laura, none of us have lived at home with you for almost two years now, have we? We live elsewhere, you know that. You remember why we moved out, don’t you?’
I yanked my hand away and vaguely recalled my husband driving me home from hospital after the operation to remove my cancer, and the house feeling stark and silent. I could see myself drifting along the corridor from bedroom to bedroom searching for the children, and Tony informing me they wouldn’t be coming home for a while. But I couldn’t remember why. In fact, the only thing I knew for sure was that most nights since I’d cooked us all a meal, when no one turned up to eat it I’d put it into a freezer drawer until there was no room left. Then I’d toss them away and start from scratch again.
My temples began to flutter in rhythm with my erratic heartbeat. But in all the confusion I had to remain focused. I had to see my daughter. I had to know that Effie was okay.
‘How much longer must I wait before I can see them?’ My voice was growing louder. ‘Five minutes face to face with them, that’s all I’m asking for. Just to put my mind at ease.’
Tony frowned, and scanned the area as a bell sounded to mark the end of the day and pupils hurried towards the doors to leave. ‘Laura, you need to calm down before you start drawing attention to yourself.’
‘Let them look, I don’t care.’
He marched me towards an empty room off the corridor. Pupils’ drawings and paintings were pinned to the walls. It reminded me of how much I enjoyed painting with Alice; she had a natural aptitude for it. Or was it Effie? I couldn’t be sure. Everything was becoming too confusing.
‘Call it instinct or mother’s intuition, but I know when my baby’s in trouble,’ I continued, ‘and look what’s been happening since you kept me away from her. Are you trying to tell me that it’s a coincidence her education is falling to pieces?’
‘And are you not going to take any responsibility for this? Do you need me to spell it out why they’re not with you anymore?’
I did, because I couldn’t make the pieces fit together. An image of myself lying in a hospital bed, then one of Henry in the residential care home came to mind. But I didn’t know if I was imagining it or if it had actually happened, and something told me it would do me no favours to ask. One memory was crystal clear, though.
‘If you don’t let me see the girls this afternoon, then first thing tomorrow morning I’ll take the documents I have to the police that prove what we did to get the business up and running.’ His face paled. ‘I have every account number, statement and transaction stored at home. Don’t make me do that, Tony.’
Deep breaths, Laura, deep breaths. Think of your anchor; he will calm you down.
‘Something I can’t explain is telling me that we need to leave here and find Effie,’ I continued. ‘You heard her teacher. What if Effie’s problems are a lot worse than you think? How would you live with yourself if she’s done something silly?’
‘Okay,’ he said reluctantly. ‘We’ll take my car.’
I don’t know if it was the threat I’d made or that he finally recognised my fear, but I got my way.
As we hurried across the car park I wondered who Tony was texting and why he was trying to hide it from me. I reasoned it must have been Effie and he didn’t want me to see her number.
‘Can you call her?’ I asked. And when he dialled from inside his car I made a mental note of the digits as they flashed across the stereo screen. There was no answer. He tried the landline, but that wasn’t picked up either.
‘Why isn’t she answering?’ I said anxiously. ‘What’s happened to her?’
‘You need to get a hold of yourself,’ Tony replied firmly. ‘You already know what the last memory the children have of you is. They don’t need to see you on their doorstep screaming like a mad woman.’
Again, I didn’t understand what he was referring to, but now wasn’t the time for questions. I was too busy trying not to yell at him to hurry up when he slowed for every amber light. He had no sense of urgency as he stuck to the suburban speed limits while we drove through the streets on the other side of town from the home where we’d all once lived together.
Eventually we pulled into the cul-de-sac of a new-build housing estate. He parked on the driveway of a contemporary home I’d never seen before with a landscaped front garden, large windows and closed curtains. Two lights were on upstairs. I steeled myself as he unlocked the door.
‘Effie?’ he shouted and I followed him upstairs. ‘Effie!’ he yelled again. He opened a bedroom, and the curtains were closed even though it was only late afternoon. In the dim light, we both stopped in our tracks and stared at our daughter – her eyes firmly shut, body motionless and her arm dangling limply over the side of the bed with her fingers pointing to the floor.
I rushed towards her, throwing her duvet back, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. Her eyes shot open and she screamed before she recognised me.
‘Mum! What the fuck?’ she began as she ripped a pair of headphones from her ears and sat bolt upright. I kept my hand over my mouth while Tony remained where he was. ‘What are you doing here?’ Effie asked, confused by my unexpected appearance.
‘We were so worried about you,’ I replied. Her eyes were red, much more so than if she’d just been asleep.
‘What’s going on?’ a young voice came from behind us. I turned to look at Alice, still in her school uniform and with her bag draped over her shoulder. A broad grin spread across her face.
New memories were starting to come and go, this time of me walking a much younger Alice to school hand in hand; then more recently, me doing the school run alone. I could see myself standing at the gates, waiting to catch a glimpse of her from afar as she played with her friends, hoping she might spot me. Hoping that she hadn’t started to forget what I looked like or how I sounded. I couldn’t remember my mother’s face or her voice anymore.
‘Mummy?’ she squealed. ‘Are you back?’ She ran towards me and wrapped herself tightly around my legs and waist. I began to cry happy tears as I held her tightly. ‘Come and see my bedroom,’ Alice said and reached for my hand. I looked at Tony before I took it. He nodded hesitantly and I followed her out of the room and onto the landing. Her hand felt soft and small and I didn’t realise how unappreciative of it I’d been when I’d rejected it so frequently in the past.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is she alone?’
‘No, she’s babysitting Alice.’ He sounded hesitant.
‘I want to see her.’
Tony shook his head. ‘We talked about this, Laura, I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘She’s my daughter,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘They are both my daughters. I need to see them tonight.’
‘We agreed that you wouldn’t visit the girls until they were old enough to make their own decisions.’ I glared at him as fragments of an argument from long ago flashed through my head. ‘Do you remember?’ he asked.
‘Yes, of course I do,’ I replied, but in truth, a fog was descending from nowhere and everything was becoming muddled. ‘But I need to go home and make sure they’re okay. Please, Tony, just take me home.’
Acknowledging my angst, he took my hand in his and spoke softly. ‘Laura, none of us have lived at home with you for almost two years now, have we? We live elsewhere, you know that. You remember why we moved out, don’t you?’
I yanked my hand away and vaguely recalled my husband driving me home from hospital after the operation to remove my cancer, and the house feeling stark and silent. I could see myself drifting along the corridor from bedroom to bedroom searching for the children, and Tony informing me they wouldn’t be coming home for a while. But I couldn’t remember why. In fact, the only thing I knew for sure was that most nights since I’d cooked us all a meal, when no one turned up to eat it I’d put it into a freezer drawer until there was no room left. Then I’d toss them away and start from scratch again.
My temples began to flutter in rhythm with my erratic heartbeat. But in all the confusion I had to remain focused. I had to see my daughter. I had to know that Effie was okay.
‘How much longer must I wait before I can see them?’ My voice was growing louder. ‘Five minutes face to face with them, that’s all I’m asking for. Just to put my mind at ease.’
Tony frowned, and scanned the area as a bell sounded to mark the end of the day and pupils hurried towards the doors to leave. ‘Laura, you need to calm down before you start drawing attention to yourself.’
‘Let them look, I don’t care.’
He marched me towards an empty room off the corridor. Pupils’ drawings and paintings were pinned to the walls. It reminded me of how much I enjoyed painting with Alice; she had a natural aptitude for it. Or was it Effie? I couldn’t be sure. Everything was becoming too confusing.
‘Call it instinct or mother’s intuition, but I know when my baby’s in trouble,’ I continued, ‘and look what’s been happening since you kept me away from her. Are you trying to tell me that it’s a coincidence her education is falling to pieces?’
‘And are you not going to take any responsibility for this? Do you need me to spell it out why they’re not with you anymore?’
I did, because I couldn’t make the pieces fit together. An image of myself lying in a hospital bed, then one of Henry in the residential care home came to mind. But I didn’t know if I was imagining it or if it had actually happened, and something told me it would do me no favours to ask. One memory was crystal clear, though.
‘If you don’t let me see the girls this afternoon, then first thing tomorrow morning I’ll take the documents I have to the police that prove what we did to get the business up and running.’ His face paled. ‘I have every account number, statement and transaction stored at home. Don’t make me do that, Tony.’
Deep breaths, Laura, deep breaths. Think of your anchor; he will calm you down.
‘Something I can’t explain is telling me that we need to leave here and find Effie,’ I continued. ‘You heard her teacher. What if Effie’s problems are a lot worse than you think? How would you live with yourself if she’s done something silly?’
‘Okay,’ he said reluctantly. ‘We’ll take my car.’
I don’t know if it was the threat I’d made or that he finally recognised my fear, but I got my way.
As we hurried across the car park I wondered who Tony was texting and why he was trying to hide it from me. I reasoned it must have been Effie and he didn’t want me to see her number.
‘Can you call her?’ I asked. And when he dialled from inside his car I made a mental note of the digits as they flashed across the stereo screen. There was no answer. He tried the landline, but that wasn’t picked up either.
‘Why isn’t she answering?’ I said anxiously. ‘What’s happened to her?’
‘You need to get a hold of yourself,’ Tony replied firmly. ‘You already know what the last memory the children have of you is. They don’t need to see you on their doorstep screaming like a mad woman.’
Again, I didn’t understand what he was referring to, but now wasn’t the time for questions. I was too busy trying not to yell at him to hurry up when he slowed for every amber light. He had no sense of urgency as he stuck to the suburban speed limits while we drove through the streets on the other side of town from the home where we’d all once lived together.
Eventually we pulled into the cul-de-sac of a new-build housing estate. He parked on the driveway of a contemporary home I’d never seen before with a landscaped front garden, large windows and closed curtains. Two lights were on upstairs. I steeled myself as he unlocked the door.
‘Effie?’ he shouted and I followed him upstairs. ‘Effie!’ he yelled again. He opened a bedroom, and the curtains were closed even though it was only late afternoon. In the dim light, we both stopped in our tracks and stared at our daughter – her eyes firmly shut, body motionless and her arm dangling limply over the side of the bed with her fingers pointing to the floor.
I rushed towards her, throwing her duvet back, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. Her eyes shot open and she screamed before she recognised me.
‘Mum! What the fuck?’ she began as she ripped a pair of headphones from her ears and sat bolt upright. I kept my hand over my mouth while Tony remained where he was. ‘What are you doing here?’ Effie asked, confused by my unexpected appearance.
‘We were so worried about you,’ I replied. Her eyes were red, much more so than if she’d just been asleep.
‘What’s going on?’ a young voice came from behind us. I turned to look at Alice, still in her school uniform and with her bag draped over her shoulder. A broad grin spread across her face.
New memories were starting to come and go, this time of me walking a much younger Alice to school hand in hand; then more recently, me doing the school run alone. I could see myself standing at the gates, waiting to catch a glimpse of her from afar as she played with her friends, hoping she might spot me. Hoping that she hadn’t started to forget what I looked like or how I sounded. I couldn’t remember my mother’s face or her voice anymore.
‘Mummy?’ she squealed. ‘Are you back?’ She ran towards me and wrapped herself tightly around my legs and waist. I began to cry happy tears as I held her tightly. ‘Come and see my bedroom,’ Alice said and reached for my hand. I looked at Tony before I took it. He nodded hesitantly and I followed her out of the room and onto the landing. Her hand felt soft and small and I didn’t realise how unappreciative of it I’d been when I’d rejected it so frequently in the past.
