Best Friends Forever, page 9
‘Can you report him to HR or something? You’ll probably find he’s done this before and they’ll have to do something about it.’
‘His wife is head of HR. Besides, I think that’s why Barbara was fired last year.’ She swiped at a stray tear that rolled down her cheek, glistening and clear.
‘Hey, hey, come here.’ He leaned towards her and she folded into his arms, pressing her face into his shoulder. ‘We’ll sort this out, okay?’ His brain fired in five different directions at once as she filled the space between them, but darted back to form one clear thought. He heard himself saying the words before he’d even conceptualised them. ‘I think I have an idea. Why don’t you move in here? As the kids’ nanny?’
She pushed away from him, frowning. ‘What?’
‘Well, you were so good with them when you were here and although I’ve been okay this last week, it has been hard trying to juggle everything. You hate your flat, we have a perfectly acceptable spare room here and the kids adore you. Why not? You could put the flat on the market and live here while you sell it.’
He was finding it difficult to read her expression. She was either horrified, confused or both.
‘Never mind, silly idea…’ He turned away and picked up his glass.
‘No, no, I… it kinda makes sense.’
He turned back to her. ‘It would be a business arrangement, of course. I’d pay you,’ he clarified quickly. ‘And we could do it for a trial period, say six months or something, but I want you to think of this as home.’
She got to her feet and moved over to the wide bay window with her back to him, twirling her glass in her hand, the dark sky staring back at her.
‘What would your family think?’ she said eventually.
He frowned. ‘Who cares?’
‘They’ve never really liked me and I don’t want them to think I’m taking advantage…’
‘Of what? Me in my vulnerable state? Pathetic as I am, unable to cope alone?’ His voice rose a little and he felt an incredulous heat spread up his neck.
She turned at the tone in his voice. ‘I don’t think that! I just… I think people will automatically think that of me. People always seem to think the worst of me first.’
He got to his feet and approached her; his arms outstretched. In a softer tone, he said, ‘I don’t care what they think. All I care about is what’s best for Harper and Lewis, and at this stage the best person for them is you because I can only be half a parent to them right now. The other half still needs fixing.’
She sighed. ‘Okay, let’s do it then.’
‘Great. Tomorrow you’ll tell that boss of yours to shove his job and you can start moving your stuff in whenever you’re ready.’ He smiled. ‘It’ll be fun.’
Dear Anna,
I’m not sure why I did it. Maybe all those years watching you use the truth like a weapon has rubbed off on me.
After I’d left him and the kids last week, I felt adrift. I stayed in bed, not eating, not sleeping, just thinking about you, them, us. Craving the way things used to be, like an itch I couldn’t scratch without opening up a wound, but wanting to pick at it anyway. I found my box of photos and stared at them for hours, burning them into my retinas: me and you on school trips; laughing in random shops; pulling faces over glasses of vodka and coke. You always alert and in control, but why had I never noticed before that I was always looking away from the camera and over at you, imitating, checking that I was doing the right thing, desperate to please you?
I could feel the numbness creeping over me until by the end of the week I felt nothing at all. Just empty. Like a rinsed-out milk bottle left on the step, ready to be collected.
Then I found myself at David’s door telling him some lie about my boss getting a bit too hands-on. Even as I heard the words coming out of my mouth, I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself.
He looked so relieved when I accepted his offer to move in. I could feel myself filling up again, the numbness receding instantly.
Okay, so lying about my boss was not cool. Especially the number of times I’ve been in those situations for real. The truth is I got retrenched from my job weeks ago because the company needed to cut staff and I hadn’t been able to turn up to work after you died. No need for me to resign after all.
Maybe it’s not lying; it’s just telling a version of the truth to benefit my situation.
See, I am just like you after all.
I’ll look after them, Anna. I promise. It’ll be like you never left.
Vix xx
December 1989
It was bitterly cold and the rain lashed at Vicky’s face as she stood at the side of the gaping hole in the ground. Her nan gripped her arm tightly, her thin fingers skeletal against the black sleeve of Vicky’s coat.
Vicky peered down into the hole, the wet soil and thin roots like veins threading through the ground, the smell of the damp earth clinging to her nostrils. The rain pounded the coffin lying snugly in the hole. It sounded like someone knocking from the inside. Knocking to get out. Vicky shuddered.
‘You cold, love? Come on, let’s go,’ her nan said.
Vicky took one last look into the hole and turned her back on it with relief. Her feet squelched in the wet grass as they walked away. She had to resist the urge to run, convinced that her dad had been knocking to get out, that he wasn’t dead after all and was coming after her.
The wake was in full swing by the time Vicky and her nan arrived at the Traveller’s Rest. Not many had come to the service, but all of his colleagues and friends were keen to take advantage of the free booze and sausage rolls on offer at the pub. Her nan shepherded her into a booth in the far corner of the room and Vicky sat, feeling numb, watching the merriment around her. He’d been well liked by all accounts. The life and soul of any party. He’d saved his drunken fury just for her, it would seem.
His slaps, pushes and punishments had intensified in the last year, but only Anna knew the full extent of what Vicky had had to endure during his numerous drunken outbursts. Vicky had learnt to tiptoe around the house, fade into the background, keeping out of sight, but every now and then he’d notice her. She’d started hanging out at Anna’s house even more, using the excuse that she was tutoring Anna in maths. Mrs Maxwell looked at her with permanently tight lips, but said nothing about her constant presence. Anna had sat with Vicky while she cried, listened when she needed to rant and provided a safe haven. She knew she could never repay Anna for that.
But it was all over now. He’d never swing for her again. He’d never leave his hand on her knee for a bit too long. He’d never stare at her with that unsettling look in his eye when she came out of the bathroom.
Even so, it was hard to shed the skin of fear she’d grown over the last few years.
Her nan brought her over a plate of food and a coke. ‘Hey, I know you miss him and it was a horrible way for him to go in the end, but he’s with your mum now. And you’ve still got me. We’ll be alright, won’t we?’ her nan said, mistaking Vicky’s glazed stare for grief. ‘Maybe we can do up your room finally, make it a bit more girly for you. What do you say? Us girls have to stick together now.’
Vicky just nodded.
Her nan wandered off to talk to Brian, her dad’s closest friend, who was propping up the bar with his substantial frame. A fellow cabbie, Brian had a squashed face like a fat troll, all folds and furrows. His gut hung over his well-worn belt and his shirt strained at the buttonholes. Vicky had never liked him. He was another one who had a way of sweeping his eyes over her that made her feel naked and exposed. She looked away in disgust as he began to hand-roll a cigarette with his chubby, yellowing fingers.
The air in the pub was suffocating, heady with smoke, banter and warm beer. Vicky felt like the wallpapered walls were closing in on her, pushing the smoke towards her in toxic clouds, reaching into her mouth and vaping through her hair. Her breath was coming in thin gasps and she reached for the coke with a trembling hand. Playing on a newsreel behind her eyes was the image of the coffin in the ground, set against the soundtrack of the rain pelting the wood. She picked at the skin around her cuticles, pulling and tearing until specks of blood began to form as she peeled the skin away.
‘Hey, you okay? You look like shit.’
Vicky felt a sob catch in her throat at the sound of Anna’s voice. ‘I thought you weren’t allowed to come?’
‘Yeah, well, what my mother doesn’t know…’ Anna threw down her bag and coat and shuffled her bum onto the seat next to Vicky.
When Vicky had shrugged out of her coat when she’d arrived, the sleeve of her dark green jumper had ridden up her forearm to reveal another one of Anna’s bruise tattoos, this one transforming the three cigarette burns into a spider, an octopus and a hedgehog. She caught Anna looking at it now and pulled her sleeve down.
‘You can’t be sad that he’s dead?’
‘It’s not that.’ Vicky lowered her voice. ‘It’s just… finding him like that, on the floor, the vomit—’
‘Stop it. We are not talking about it. Put it out of your head and move on. He was a shithead of a dad, a complete twat of a man, and you are so much better off without him. The world is better off without him. He had no right to use you as a punching bag all these years, okay? Karma.’
Vicky bit her lip and nodded.
‘I’ve got something for you.’ Anna dug in her backpack and pulled out a small, velvet box. She handed it to Vicky with a grin.
‘What is it?’
‘Open it and see.’
Vicky opened the box to see a thin gold chain nesting inside with a delicate hummingbird charm hanging from it.
She gasped. ‘It’s so pretty, but what’s it for?’ Vicky had never owned anything so delicate.
‘It’s for you, silly. It’s instead of the drawings—’ she pointed to Vicky’s forearm ‘—because you’re free of him now. Free as a bird, get it? And when you wear it, I want you to think of me.’
Vicky looked down at the hummingbird again and felt like her chest was going to burst. All she could say was, ‘Thanks.’
Anna shrugged, but Vicky could tell she was proud of herself. Anna scanned the room, then got up and disappeared into the bodies milling about. Vicky looked at the beautiful necklace one more time, then shut the little box with a snap and tucked it into her coat pocket with a smile.
Within minutes, Anna was back with two glasses of coke.
‘Thanks, but I’ve already got one,’ Vicky said.
Anna smiled slyly. ‘This isn’t just coke. Have some. It’ll make you feel better. Steady your nerves.’
Vicky took a gulp of the drink and almost spat it straight out at Anna. It burned all the way into the pit of her stomach, then lay there bubbling and roiling like lava.
‘What is that?’ Vicky wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Anna was happily sipping on her own drink. ‘I don’t know. I just collected up a few stray drinks lying around and mixed them together. There’s definitely whiskey and I think that man over there may have mislaid his rum and coke.’ She pointed at Brian, who was frowning and looking around him in confusion.
Vicky felt herself smile. ‘Jeez, Anna, you’re a liability.’ She took another drink, a longer one this time, and found it didn’t taste as poisonous the second time around.
‘Yes, but where would you be without me? Come on, drink up and I’ll find us some more.’
6
David wanted to weep with relief when he heard Vicky’s voice down the phone line.
‘Hi David.’
‘Vicky, hi.’ He gripped his mobile tightly in his fist, could feel the screen hot against his cheek. His left hand was clasped in a tight fist.
‘You okay?’
‘No, not…’ A sob wrenched from his throat, unbidden, choked. He swallowed against it. He could hear someone washing their hands beyond the toilet cubicle door, so he lowered his voice. ‘It’s stupid. I don’t know why it’s affecting me so much.’
‘What’s happened?’
He took a deep breath and opened his fist to reveal the ticket stub crushed into his palm. ‘I brought a coat with me to work today. Haven’t worn it in a while, but Lewis spilled something on my other one.’ He knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t stop himself. ‘I put my hand in the pocket and there was a ticket stub inside. From when I took Anna to see Robbie Williams – the last gig we went to…’ He laughed bitterly. ‘She hated it. I thought I was being romantic.’ Sobs took over then, wracking his body. Sweat was making the coat stick to his arms, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it off.
‘Jesus.’ She paused. ‘Where are you? Do you want me to come over?’
‘Yes, please, well, I… I’m at work, but I have to leave to get the kids from school. I know you’re only supposed to move in next week, but I really don’t want to be alone tonight. And I don’t want the kids to see me like this. I’m a mess.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll get them from school, then once they’re off to bed, we can talk properly. I’ll bring a bottle. Sounds like we’ll need it.’
‘Can you get out of work okay? I don’t want to cause more trouble for you with your boss.’
‘Oh, no, er… he’s not in today, so it’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t work here any more after Friday, do I?’
‘Thanks Vicky, you’re a good friend.’
‘I’ve got your back, David. It’s what Anna would’ve wanted. See you later.’
*
David poured generous glasses of red wine and collapsed back onto the couch cushions, still in the suit trousers he had worn to work, but with his tie loose at his neck and his shirtsleeves rolled up. The weight of the day pushed down on his shoulders. He could hear Vicky moving about upstairs, supervising the bedroom routine like a pro, her animated voice so different from Anna’s, who had always insisted on a quiet, regimented bedtime. In contrast, Vicky was singing as the kids brushed their teeth, some inane song about the tooth fairy.
He necked half the glass in one go, then topped it up and rested his head back against the cushion.
He was onto his second glass when Vicky finally made it downstairs.
‘Leave some for me!’
He smiled thinly and passed a glass over to her. She sat next to him and tucked her feet up under her long skirt.
‘You okay?’ she asked.
‘I’ve been better.’ David sighed and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and propping his heavy head in his hands. ‘I called the police again, just before I found the ticket stub. I wanted an update. I haven’t heard anything from them for a while.’
‘And?’ Vicky looked into her glass.
‘Nothing new. Still leaning towards an accident with no new evidence to the contrary.’
‘But I thought they… didn’t they say someone else may have been involved?’ She swirled her wine, watching the liquid motion intently.
‘Yes, they had witnesses saying they saw another car speeding in the area, but that’s as far as it went. They were making it sound like it could be ruled as accidental death.’ He chuckled bitterly. ‘They even mentioned that the body of a fox was found near to the car. That maybe she swerved to miss it.’
Vicky got up and walked over to the bay window, her back to him. ‘You must be relieved then?’
‘I don’t know what to think or feel, to be honest.’ David took a large gulp of his wine. ‘I think I really need someone to blame, you know? But to think that a stupid, fucking fox could’ve killed my wife just feels so… inadequate. So wasteful.’
Vicky was quiet. After a moment, she turned back to David. ‘I think I’d rather that than knowing someone hated her enough to hurt her.’
David frowned. ‘That was the thing though. No one hated Anna.’
Vicky looked away. ‘I know that, but…’
‘Yeah, you’re right, I suppose. When the police were questioning everyone and looking at me, you, I felt angry and wanted to blame someone – and it felt like they were right. That Anna was trying to tell me something, telling me someone had hurt her. She was acting so strangely that week and you two weren’t talking, which was the longest I’d ever known you to fall out. I just…’ He sighed. ‘I know it sounds stupid, but knowing that there may be no one to blame, I can’t be angry any more, so what am I supposed to feel? It just doesn’t sit right with me. Anger is better than feeling nothing at all.’
He drained the glass again, then refilled it.
‘It’s funny. That night when you called me to tell me about the accident, I actually thought you might have done something,’ Vicky said.
‘Me? Why?’
‘I don’t know. You sounded so flat and… emotionless, I guess, but it’s easy to scout around for a culprit when you’re angry and in shock. Everyone looks suspicious.’ Vicky returned to sit next to him and put her hand on his. ‘And it’s okay to be angry. It’s still a waste of her life. But you need to find comfort in knowing that maybe no one was to blame. If they do say it was an accident, then it’s better for you and the kids to let it go. Accept that it was an accident. A tragic, horrible accident.’
‘But what if they’re wrong and we never find out what really happened that night?’
‘It won’t change anything. She will still be gone. You’re just searching for a way to fix this and you can’t. It is what it is.’
His eyes scanned her reddened cheeks and wide eyes before he looked away. He wanted to rage at her, tell her to take back what she said, but he knew she was right.
Vicky pulled her hand away.
He sighed. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry. It was just calling them and then finding the ticket, I lost it for a bit.’ He shook his head. ‘A fucking fox. She hated foxes. Was terrified one would come into the house and attack the kids or something.’
