Save Her, page 5
Sophie was facing away from her, sitting at the breakfast bar, Flora wrapped her arms around her in greeting but was quickly flung off as Sophie let out a screech. ‘Flora, you bloody scared me.’
Flora was about to laugh when she saw Sophie’s face. It looked creased in pain. ‘What’s wrong. Are you okay?’
Within seconds, Sophie’s face was smiling, and Flora wondered if she’d imagined the look of pain. ‘Fine, fine. Like I said, you just scared me. Anyway, what did you want to tell me that you couldn’t tell me yesterday?’
‘Oh yeah. Wait here.’ Flora dashed over to the sofa where she had left her handbag after emptying it across the floor last night. She grabbed her purse and turned to leave the room when she realised something felt off. Stopping mid-step, she looked down at the purse. It was heavier than it had been last night. She had handled it so much yesterday that she was more than familiar with its weight. With a slight tremble in her hand, she pulled back the zip and was greeted with the sight of all her cards in the slots. The seven pound coins she had got from Waitrose were back in the change compartment, like they’d never been moved in the first place.
‘What’s taking so long?’ Sophie asked.
Flora felt her enter the room but could not tear her eyes away from her purse. ‘They weren’t there,’ breathed Flora weakly. Her body was limp, her hands clammy.
‘What wasn’t there?’ asked Sophie.
She slumped onto the sofa. ‘This is going to sound ridiculous, but yesterday I was in a café and my purse was empty. All my cards, everything gone. It was so embarrassing. I just went to get my purse to show you it was all gone. But now…’ She stopped, staring at the purse again. ‘Now, it’s all there.’
‘That’s weird.’ Sophie joined Flora on the sofa and wrapped her arms around her. ‘What do you think happened?’
‘Thank you,’ said Flora. Looking at Sophie with tears of gratitude.
‘What for?’
‘For not asking me if I checked properly. Or for thinking I imagined it.’
Sophie chuckled. ‘I think after twenty years of being your friend, I’d know if you were a nutter by now.’
Flora’s body warmed and she snuggled closer to Sophie, resting her head on her shoulder. It was a testament to the strength of their friendship that Sophie believed Flora automatically. That’s what love was, knowing someone so completely that you always took their side. She wished she could say the same about Sam. All of last night he had refused to believe that someone had taken her cards, convinced she had just misplaced them. She didn’t want to look too closely at what that meant for their relationship. That he wouldn’t believe her automatically. But then, she reasoned, he hadn’t known her as long as Sophie had.
‘But it is really weird. You don’t think…’ said Sophie. Then she shook her head. ‘No, actually, forget it.’
‘What? Tell me!’
Sophie looked sheepishly at Flora. ‘Well… the only explanation is that someone took your cards and then put them back.’
‘Well, yeah,’ said Flora, realising Sophie was voicing what her brain had yet to process. ‘But who?’
Sophie couldn’t look at Flora in the eye. Instead she addressed her knees. ‘Flo, there are only two people it could be. Cecelia and…’
‘…Sam,’ finished Flora.
Sam and Cecelia. Cecelia or Sam. For the rest of the day, Sophie and Flora were trapped in the same cycle of debate. In the end, they had decided that Cecelia was the only candidate. It was a reach because stealing Flora’s cards and putting them back just didn’t resonate with the Cecelia they knew. It was beneath her, a menial task that they could not picture her doing. When Cecelia wanted to offend or upset Flora, she would do so in person to soak up the damage of her words or actions. Sophie had theorised that it could be part of a scheme to try and stop Flora from moving. But Cecelia was cleverer than that, surely? It would take a lot more than that to scare Flora into staying put.
Flora refused to believe that Sam had taken her cards. She would not admit that Sophie had a point that he was the one with the easiest access to them and that it would be harder for Cecelia to get to her purse than it would be for Sam.
Sophie had wondered aloud if they were working together until a scathing look from Flora caused her to change the subject. Flora desperately wanted to talk to Sam about it. But even if it wasn’t him, she had never convinced Sam that his mother did not like her and was regularly rude and disparaging towards her. How was she going to convince him of something as incredible as this?
That night, as Flora coated the vegetables in pomegranate molasses, she couldn’t resist furtive glances at Sam. He was sat at the breakfast bar, typing intently on his laptop. She wished more than anything she could peer into his mind. She thought she knew everything about him. But a tiny seed of doubt had firmly planted itself into her mind. Damn Sophie and her theories.
Sam’s arms came around her, startling her from her reverie. ‘Hey jumpy, is dinner almost ready?’ he asked, nuzzling his nose into her neck, running his hands up and down her waist. Her body, seemingly ignorant of her worries, responded to his touch. She turned from the kitchen island and surrendered to him, letting his arms surround her.
His began to kiss her deeply, she tried to return his passion, but she couldn’t relax into the kiss.
Sensing her reluctance, Sam pulled away, rubbing his nose against hers. ‘What’s wrong, sweetie? You aren’t still worrying about your cards?’
She pushed him away. ‘Of course I am. One minute my cards were gone and the next minute they were back in my purse.’
‘Flo, listen to yourself. How would that even happen? Perhaps you took the wrong purse to the coffee shop. Maybe they fell out into your bag. There will be an explanation, we just don’t know it yet.’
‘Sophie doesn’t think I’ve lost my mind. She thinks someone took my cards,’ she retorted defiantly.
Sam shook his head and sighed. ‘Why would they do that, Flo?’
‘It’s obvious. To freak me out. Scare me.’
‘But who would want to do that to you?’
‘I can think of one person who hates me enough.’
Sam’s shoulders slumped. He groaned in frustration, the noise of someone desperate to stop listening to a broken record. ‘Not this again.’
‘When are you going to wake up and see your mother for who she is? Do you know what she said to me? She said that if my parents hadn’t lived in such a rough area, they’d still be alive.’ She began pacing up and down the kitchen, circling the island. ‘Like hit-and-run accidents don’t happen in posh areas. Only the poor people are stupid enough to be killed in a car accident. The rich are too safe in their limos and chauffeured cars!’
Her body was shaking in anger. She normally held back when talking to him about his mother, knowing it was the one thing they would never agree on. But the incident with her bank cards and Cecelia’s callous comments had displaced her usual reserve. ‘Oh, and she said that because my parents are dead, I don’t have a clue what it means to be part of a family.’
‘Flo, calm down.’ He pulled her to a stop, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. ‘I’m not justifying what she said but she was just lashing out. We both know she is taking our move badly. I’ll talk to her again.’
It was Flora’s turn to groan. ‘Uggh. Why can’t you see the way she treats me? She is always criticising me, throwing subtle insults at me. She hates me, Sam. Not once has she ever said something nice or kind to me. She belittles me at the slightest chance. You have to see that.’
‘I know that you and my mother aren’t close, but she does not hate you, I promise. She just isn’t good at showing her emotions. It probably feels like she is cold towards you but that is just the way she is. She shows she cares through actions not through words. She invites you to every Friday Night Dinner. If she hated you, she wouldn’t do that, would she?’
Flora’s frustration gave way to sadness as once again she acknowledged the futility of trying to get Sam to open his eyes and see his mother for who she was. She stepped away and Sam’s arms fell to his side. Flora took a seat at the breakfast bar, leaning over she rested her head in her hands.
Sam continued in a softer voice. ‘My mother would never hide your bank cards and replace them. That is a childish prank, I don’t know anyone that would do that. It doesn’t even make sense to do that. What would someone accomplish? It’s much more likely you just had the wrong purse, or the cards fell out.’
‘That is not what happened, Sam,’ she said in a flat voice. ‘Sophie believes me, why can’t you?’
‘Sophie would say the sky was purple and that pigs can fly if you told her to.’ Sam had raised his voice and Flora looked up in surprise.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.
‘Just…’ Sam couldn’t meet her gaze. He picked up an orange from the fruit bowl and began to toss it from hand to hand, studiously concentrating on the trajectory of the orange. ‘Just that she tends to agree with whatever you say.’
‘Well that just shows how much you know about Sophie. If you actually bothered to get to know her, you’d know that she always tells me the truth. Whether I want to hear it or not. She’s the only person I can rely on.’ Flora got off her chair and went to leave the room, fed up with the conversation.
Sam swept her into his arms before she could reach the door. He held her tightly, kissing the top of her head. ‘I’m sorry, Flo. I don’t think you are crazy. I don’t know what happened to your cards. But I promise you, it wasn’t my mother. She would never hurt you. I swear it. Let’s just put this whole thing behind us. Remember I’ll always protect you.’ He took her face in her hands and kissed her on the nose. ‘Whether that’s from flying cows.’ He kissed her nose again. ‘Meteors.’ Another kiss. ‘And anything else.’
She looked up into his sea blue eyes and chuckled despite herself. He always said the strangest things to make her laugh. He was right. She was overreacting. She needed to let it go and stop seeing danger in the shadows.
11
From the very first day that Sophie started at Cavendish & Sons, she had realised that she was going to have to battle for her right to stay. Greg may have given her a job, but it would be up to her to keep it. Most would have turned tail and run when they realised just how unevenly matched the sides were. It was Sophie versus Cecelia and Alistair.
But Sophie relished the challenge. She had been brought up by and survived Lily Moore, after all. Outwitting an alcoholic and social services and the teachers at school had been a full-time job. It had taught her how to manipulate and stay one step ahead of the game. Having to hide and endure her mother’s neglect and her drinking problem was actually a blessing as it taught Sophie to overcome emotion. She had learnt to weaponise her emotions. Sophie knew when to cry and when to mask her feelings and become unreadable.
Sophie also knew how to make money. Her mother would drink all the child support and jobseeker’s allowance money before she even got home on payment day. When Sophie’s school uniform no longer fit and she could no longer cope with the comments from teachers about her inappropriately short and shabby skirt, Sophie had started her first business. Flora had offered to help her, but she didn’t accept handouts unless she had to. Plus, she didn’t want Flora’s parents getting involved. Although there was every chance Flora’s mum, Rebecca, already knew. Each sleepover, she’d find something of Flora’s that was too big for her or the hole in her skirt she thought she’d hidden so well had been miraculously sewn up overnight.
With a little help from fate, something she firmly believed in, she had found a ten-pound note blowing across the pavement as she walked home from school. It was creased and dirty, obviously having fallen from someone’s pocket and been trampled. Her mind raced with the possibilities. All she wanted to do was go and buy all the things that had been denied to her due to her mother’s self-inflicted poverty. She wanted the fancy pencil case and the new trainers to show off in the classroom, instead of having to pretend that she didn’t care. But she had to think clearly.
A plan soon formulated in her mind and that morning, she visited the off-licence. Ayaz, thinking she had been sent once more for some alcohol for her mother, went towards the shelf that held the Stella, but Sophie called him back. He turned back towards her, curious. Ayaz had been Sophie’s friend since she had learnt to walk. He had brown skin and she had never seen him without a huge smile on his face. Everyone who came into the shop couldn’t help but be charmed by his infectious joviality.
‘How many sweets and chocolates can I get for this?’ She held out the ten-pound note with trembling hands. It was the most money she had ever had in her life. Money that was her own, to do with what she wanted. She didn’t really want to let it go and pulled it back, hugging it to her chest and clutching it tightly between her fingers.
Ayaz gave her a confused look but helped her to load her rucksack with as many sweets and chocolate bars as it could fit. Ayaz had always treated Sophie with kindness. She had always thought it was because her mother was his best customer, but the gentle way he had helped her today made her think he felt a bit sorry for her. Especially when he gave her back a five-pound note in change. His face creased into a warm smile, his white teeth sparkling against the background of his dark skin. He was a lovely man and Sophie felt tears rise. The amount of chocolate and sweets in her backpack was almost tipping her over backwards… there was no way she should have that much change.
She put the money back on the counter. But he opened her hand, placed the note into it and then closed her fingers around it, holding her small hand in his large hands. ‘Spend it wisely,’ he said and then ushered her out of the shop.
Sophie tried hard to act normal when she walked past the teachers counting in the students. Her heart was racing, and she swore everyone was looking at her differently, that they could sense she was bringing contraband into the school. Thanks to recent government changes trying in vain to solve the obesity crisis in children, the school meals were now junk-food-free and the children were subjected to vegetables and more vegetables with a side of fruit. Even those with packed lunches had only healthy snacks, any contraband would be confiscated by the lunch lady.
Sophie hung up her rucksack on her peg with great difficulty. Sitting at her desk, she had watched in agony as the clock slowly ticked away the minutes until their morning break. Surreptitiously, Sophie had filled the lining of her skirt with sweets from her bag. Outside in the playground, with Flora at her side, she took a deep breath and walked straight over to Melissa. Melissa was the richest child in the school – as she told anyone that would listen almost every day. She would bring money to school and buy food from the canteen and the vending machines for her select group of friends. This wasn’t as much of a bonus anymore now that the vending machine held only fruit bars and packets of carrot sticks.
‘Oi, Melissa.’
The queen bee was sat on a bench, flanked on each side by her two most loyal disciples, Lisa-May and Jennifer. They rose as Sophie and Flora walked up to Melissa, like very skinny bodyguards.
‘I’ve got something for you. I know you could afford it and no one else could.’
Melissa visibly preened at the mention of how much money she had. She leaned forward. ‘What is it?’
Melissa’s gang surrounded Sophie and looked at her with interest.
Sophie slowly pulled out the bars of chocolates and sweets and there was an audible intake of breath. Chocolate and sweets hadn’t been seen in this playground since the plague of the health kick had swept through the school last year. Sophie pulled out Snickers, Mars Bars, Galaxy as well as bags of Skittles and Maltesers.
She drank in the shock and awe on the faces in the group. Melissa’s eyes were hungry, and she stood up.
Sophie remarked, ‘I just knew that there was no point offering them to anyone else as I knew you had enough money to buy the lot. I’ve got more than just this.’ She was taking such a risk, there was every chance that Melissa could go running to the teacher and the plan would be ruined. She just had to pray that the queen bee’s greed would outweigh her spite. Sophie could almost hear the cogs turning in her head as she decided what to do.
‘How much?’
It took all Sophie’s restraint not to jump and shout all the way home. Fate had smiled on her. From that day on, she became a believer in fate. If she was meant to succeed at anything, fate would give her a sign. Melissa had been her sign from fate. She had bought all of the sweets and chocolate for £20. All day, Sophie had watched her bestowing chocolate on her chosen people, buying loyalty and cementing her control over her existing followers. Sophie didn’t care, she had more money than she had ever had in her life.
Instead of spending it on herself, she invested it in things that she knew people would want and slowly she became known as the ‘go-to’ girl who was the only person brave enough to bring things into school. Finally, she had found the one advantage of not having eagle-eyed parents to pack her bag and watch her every move. For once, her mother’s neglect was a reason to celebrate.
It became a stable income and Sophie replaced her school uniform and bought the pink sparkly pencil case and the scented gel pens. No longer did she have to rely on handouts from Flora. She was given respect by the other pupils instead of ridicule as she shed her second-hand clothes and washed her hair.
When Flora’s parents died, she was able to help Flora with things she couldn’t get because of her aunt. Slowly, Sophie realised that she was good at business. She branched out when she reached secondary school and could spot like-minded kids that she could trust to work with her. Soon she had a network of sellers all reporting back to her. She could sense the trends before the other kids and was supplying a vast array of yo-yos before they even became cool. She manipulated teachers and situations to stop the teachers from tracing anything back to her. Sophie liked to think dealing with the tantrums of the kids that worked for her had made it easy to deal with the tantrums of adults in the business world.
