Authors: Chris Curran
I made sure it was closed tight and secured. Then looked inside the wardrobe, under the bed, and behind the door again, as if I might have missed something.
I checked every drawer and surface, then did the same for the whole flat. Nothing was missing and I didn’t think anything had been moved. Could I have opened that window and forgotten about it?
In the kitchen I went to the fridge, but closed it right away. Before I could think about cooking or eating I needed to feel safe. I tried all the other windows, secured them again, and made sure the front door was double locked.
For once, I was very glad to think of Nicola and Kieran close by.
*
The weather was more pleasant next day and in the evening I waited outside the flat for Alice’s car. Tom was in the passenger seat and, as she pulled up, he jumped out, without a word, to move to the back and I turned to thank him. He was fiddling with his seatbelt and didn’t look at me.
Alice turned the car jerkily, bumping hard against the kerb. ‘Right let’s get going. I’ve left the food in the oven. Tom decided to come just as I was about to leave, then kept me waiting for ten minutes while he got ready.’ There was a heavy silence from the back seat suggesting the aftermath of an argument.
I waited till Alice’s attention was on the road before I dared to look back and give my son a smile that I hoped told him I was glad he’d come, without undermining her authority. The last thing I wanted was to cause friction between them. Tom flushed and looked away from me, pulled out his phone and began playing with it. I searched for something to say to Alice. ‘I’ve had more of those late night phone calls.’
‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, but who have you given the number to? ’
‘Lorna and Stella, that’s all.’
‘The letting agency has it, of course, but… oh, and girl opposite, what’s her name?’
‘Nicola?’
‘Yes, she said she was friendly with the woman who lived there before, so she’ll probably have it, but she’d hardly be calling you late at night, would she?’
Remembering Nicola’s problems with her ex and our early morning drinking session I wasn’t so sure. I’d have to ask her.
Alice said, ‘You’re sure there’s no one else? ’
Of course, there was Ruby as well, but I wasn’t going to mention her. I knew what Alice would think. She probably hoped I’d cut all ties with my life inside. Which was, after all, what Ruby had told me to do. And I’d made enemies there. So if anyone was trying to rattle me it was most likely one of them.
Alice drove well, but she was clearly in a hurry and I was unnerved by the speed with which she took the country roads. I would always be an anxious passenger I supposed, and I couldn’t imagine ever getting behind a wheel again myself.
When we pulled up at the house she jumped out of the car and went straight inside, calling behind her. ‘Don’t disappear upstairs again, Tom, supper’s ready.’
I put my arm around his waist as we headed in together and whispered. ‘It’s good to see you. How did the table tennis go?’
He moved away. ‘OK.’ Then looked back at me as he hopped up the steps into the hall, his eyes brightening. ‘I won all my matches and so did Mark. We’re gonna be in the semi-finals.’
In the kitchen, Alice was dishing up what looked like a very good fish pie, although she said it was probably overcooked. ‘There’s some Muscadet in the fridge, Clare, will you open it?’
She poured two large glasses of wine, but I forced myself to drink slowly. Alice and I talked about the weather and my job, while Tom ate steadily.
‘I’m hoping to go up to London to see Lorna on Friday,’ I said.
Alice was picking at her food, but was on her second glass of wine. ‘That’s good. You should be getting out and about rather than sitting in the flat.’
Tom’s plate was soon clean and when he jumped up; she looked hard at him, until he muttered a surly, ‘Is it OK if I go?’
Alice nodded, her glance telling me to keep out of it. We sat for a moment in silence, then she turned to me. ‘On the subject of getting out and about, I forgot to mention, we always have a barbecue for my partners in the practice and a few other friends at this time of year. I arranged it for this Saturday before I knew when you’d be out, but you must come.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure.’
‘Come on, Tom’ll be upset if you don’t and it’s only a few people. Tom’s friend Mark and his parents will be there and I know he’d love you to meet them. Most of them know about you, but don’t worry no one will mention anything. Then I thought you could stay the night and we’d have a quiet Sunday just the three of us.’
There was no way I could refuse. ‘I’ll come on the train, shall I?’
‘Well, I thought I’d ask Stella. You know her, so that will make things easier for you, and she can give you a lift.’
She stood and began collecting dishes. I followed her into the kitchen, loading the dishwasher as she rinsed plates.
‘No, Clare.’ The edge on her voice almost made me drop the glass I was holding. ‘They’re crystal. The dishwasher will ruin them.’ She was behind me, her hands on my hips to move me out of the way.
‘Sorry.’ I took the glass to the sink.
‘Just leave it… I mean… it’s fine, I’ll do it.’ With an obvious effort she softened her tone. ‘Why don’t you pour some coffee and take it into the garden.’
I didn’t trust myself to speak but, as I reached the French windows, I raised the mugs to her and she nodded with a tight smile. ‘Thanks, nearly done.’
Outside, I was glad to see the large glass-topped table already had a set of coasters on it. It would be just my luck to annoy her again by damaging it with the hot mugs.
I leant back on the cushions of the lounger and let the silence and the warm evening air wash over me. In my mind’s eye, the flowers, the pots of herbs, and the little paths crisscrossing the garden disappeared, replaced by a smooth carpet of grass stretching away in neat lines. When we were kids there were hardly any flowers, just a few shrubs and the two tall trees at the end. Mr Hobbs came from the village to keep it tidy, but that was all.
And yet I loved it and so did Alice. It was where we spent most of our time when we weren’t at school. Where we could run, and scream, and scramble up the trees before collapsing in their shade. Me more often than not with a book, and Alice with her dolls or the toy ponies she collected.
One day from that time sprang to mind and I could almost feel Alice’s long hair tickling my chin as I held the back of her bike, pushing her along the path that ran beside the wall.
‘Don’t let go. Please Clare, don’t let go.’
‘I won’t, I promise,’ I said. But when I felt her begin to balance and push forward on her own, I did release her, running along behind, urging her on.
As she neared the end of the path, I stood, hot and sweaty from the effort and the excitement, knowing she’d be all right. But Mum opened the kitchen window, her voice shrill.
‘Alice, be careful.’
Alice turned to look at her, hit the wall, and tumbled off. The bike fell on top of her, and Mum was out, pushing me away and gathering Alice into her arms. I watched them, knowing that, as usual, I’d mucked it up, and all too aware of my clumsy eleven-year-old bulk and the new, disgusting, smell of my sweat.
Two scraped knees were the only damage and Alice, despite her smudged face, wasn’t crying as Mum helped her to her feet. She gave us her prettiest smile, and said, ‘I’m all right.’
But Mum turned to me, her face twisted. ‘You never think do you, Clare? She’s just a baby and she could have been seriously hurt. Now go to your room and try to grow up a bit.’ I stared at her, fighting back the tears. ‘Don’t you look at me like that, young lady.’ She pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose. ‘Get upstairs now, and before you do anything else you need to take a shower.’
Her eyes were slivers of blue glass and at that moment I hated her. She had never hit me, but her terrible stares and the silences that followed were punishment enough in those days. The days before I taught myself not to care.
As I stalked towards the house, Alice ran after me and threw her soft little arms around me. ‘I love you, Clare,’ she said.
Our mother pulled her away, in a waft of delicate perfume. ‘Clare’s very naughty,’ she said. ‘And you’re being naughty too now. You’re both making Mummy unhappy.’
Later, I heard Mum crying in her room and I looked out of my bedroom window. Alice was sitting under a tree, with her toys, singing to herself. When she saw me she came over. ‘Don’t be sad, Clare,’ she called. ‘Mummy’s upset ’cos I told her she was mean to you, but I don’t care, you’re my best friend.’
I couldn’t remember what happened after that. It might have blown over after a couple of hours, or a couple of days, of heavy silence or it could have been the start of one of Mum’s breakdowns.
When the grown up Alice sat beside me, she was smiling, a guarded smile, head on one side. ‘What?’
‘I was just thinking about playing here when we were little. You were so sweet.’ She laughed and I dared to ask, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Oh… nothing.’
‘Alice…?’
She brushed her hair away from her face, glancing up at the window above, her voice low. ‘I’ve been having trouble with Tom, that’s all.’
A surge of feeling, I couldn’t put a name to, caught at my breath. ‘What happened?’
She took a sip from her mug then leaned back into the cushions, stretching out her legs and kicking off her sandals. ‘Oh the usual. I’m sure it’s mostly normal teenage rebelliousness but of course the situation doesn’t help.’
‘Me being back you mean?’
She nodded. ‘We knew it wouldn’t be easy. Today it was just something and nothing. He decided to come with me at the last minute and then wasn’t ready, but he’s been difficult for a while.’ She looked at me. ‘What did you say to him the other day?’
‘I told him about my past and that ex-addicts can never be really sure they’re cured.’
‘Did that satisfy him?’
I shook my head. ‘Not really. He’s got the idea someone might have wanted to harm Dad because of the Briomab drug scandal.’
She gave a small snort. ‘Oh my God, not a conspiracy theory.’
A flash of resentment.
Couldn’t she see how important it was not to make light of Tom’s suggestions?
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice even. ‘I have to take his ideas seriously, Alice.’
When she didn’t speak I picked up my coffee mug and drank a long drink. I didn’t want to argue with her, but I remembered how determined Tommy had always been and I was sure I was right in this. Alice shifted in her seat. ‘So what are you going to do?’
‘Talk to Matt and to Lorna first of all.’
‘Just be careful, will you. You’re both under enormous strain.’ She glanced up at the house again. ‘He still feels guilty because he wasn’t there and you must be finding things so difficult too.’ She laid her hand on my arm. ‘But I’ll help all I can, of course.’
She looked close to tears and I put my hand over hers. ‘I’m sorry. You’re getting all the flak and it’s not fair.’
‘I’ll cope. Just do me a favour and try to enjoy your time together rather than focusing too much on the past. That’s the best way you can help Tom, in my opinion.’
I smiled at her. ‘OK, doc, as long as you try to enjoy yourself a bit more too. Which reminds me, what about that latest man of yours – Duncan – how are things with him?’
‘I told you he wanted to go back to Australia eventually,’ she said. ‘Well he did – a few months ago.’
‘Oh, Alice, you didn’t tell me. Did he ask you to go with him?’
Her hand clenched under mine. ‘Yes, or to follow him out later, but I said no because it wouldn’t be fair to keep him hanging on indefinitely.’
‘And you said no because …’ I jerked my head towards the house.
She looked at me, her blue eyes bright. ‘I didn’t want to go.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Yes, it was partly Tom, of course, but … I just didn’t want to go – couldn’t have felt that much for Duncan after all I suppose.’
I knew she had been thinking of me as well as Tom. I squeezed her hand, but could only swallow on the words I should have said.
There was a sound overhead and we looked up. Tom was at an open window. ‘Come up, Mum. I want to show you something.’
Alice smiled and picked up her mug. ‘Go on, I’m OK.’
Upstairs, Tom was hunched over the computer again. He turned to me with gleaming eyes. ‘Look at all this stuff about Granddad.’
There were loads of references to Dad and to his company: Parnell Pharmaceuticals. Most of them related to the suspicions that some data about a new arthritis drug had been falsified. I knew all this, of course, – the drug was implicated in making certain forms of cancer more aggressive. There were pay-outs, but it was never proved that the company had done anything wrong.
‘Yes, it was a horrible time for Granddad. He wasn’t involved with the testing data, but he felt bad, even though we still don’t know if the medicine was to blame or if any of the data was faked.’
‘It’s worth looking into though, Mum. It says here that the directors got threats.’ I bit my lip. If only his theory could be remotely possible. ‘If they wanted to drug you then they must have had someone at the reception. We should check everyone, even the catering people.’ His face was very pink and I could feel the heat coming from him. I wanted so much to hug him, but this wasn’t the time. He had to know I was listening and he was helping me.
‘You’re doing brilliantly, Tom. And I’m going to Emily’s soon so I’ll find out anything I can from her and from Matt. I did ask Matt about people at the reception, but he couldn’t tell me anything.’
‘He worked for Granddad’s firm as well, didn’t he? Even before it was taken over.’
‘Yes, although I don’t think he was very important when Granddad was alive. So he might not know much about the ins and outs of the scandal.’ I squeezed his forearm. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll speak to him about it. And to Lorna.’
Before I left I looked into the spare bedroom, where Alice had stored some furniture from the little house Steve and I used to live in with the twins. It was a bit shabby, but we loved it. Dad had given us some money for the deposit when we got married, but we wouldn’t take anything else from him: both of us too proud. After I stopped thinking I was innocent and accepted my sentence, I asked Alice to arrange its sale. I knew I could never go back there.