Every Little Secret, page 19
‘Marcus, apologise,’ Grace hisses.
‘Stop treating me like a child,’ he hisses back. But he looks around him, at Josh, as though he’d forgotten he was there, and then to his daughter. ‘I’m sorry, Kaia.’
‘You scare me.’
Marcus drops his head into his hands. ‘I shouldn’t have sworn at you,’ he says, without looking up. ‘But you shouldn’t be scared.’
She pauses, takes a breath. ‘Stop hurting me then.’
Marcus lifts his head, rubs at his cheeks. His eyes are bloodshot, and he stinks of stale booze and fags. Grace feels a sudden wave of disgust for the man she’s supposed to love. Maybe that’s just it, the person she fell in love with doesn’t exist anymore. But when did he disappear? On a rugby pitch in New Zealand? Or before, in a hotel room in Phuket?
‘I think Josh should take her,’ Grace says, trying to sound measured, in control.
But Marcus keeps going. ‘She’s my daughter.’
‘My daughter too.’ Grace wants to add that it’s her name on Grace’s birth certificate, not Marcus’s. And that he has no legal claim to her. But she would never say that. At least, not in front of Kaia.
‘I don’t want to cause a fuss.’
Grace turns to look at Josh. His voice is the calmest in the room.
‘I thought it would help, but I seem to be making things worse.’ He turns to Kaia. ‘We can do something together this afternoon instead.’
Kaia looks from Josh to Marcus and her eyes droop a little. She pauses for a moment more, then nods her head. ‘Okay, fine.’
But Marcus’s eyes are still burning with the injustice of having to haggle for Kaia’s company. Grace can’t allow this hungover, angry man to be alone with her daughter. ‘I’ll come too,’ she says. She’s supposed to be Kaia’s protector, and has been letting her down for weeks.
‘No! I’m taking my daughter to the park,’ Marcus shouts. ‘On my own. You can stay with your precious brother! Come on, Kaia.’ Marcus grabs her hand and she yields to his grip, trotting on her toes to keep up with his strides.
Grace races after them. ‘You’re not taking her, Marcus! You asked me to trust you, but I don’t. Not anymore.’
‘I’m brave, Mummy, I’ll be okay.’
‘Brave? What the hell are you talking about?’ Marcus erupts again. ‘I’m not the flipping enemy!’ He grabs his jacket off the line of coat hooks in the hallway, throwing his arm back. A half-empty packet of cigarettes falls on the floor. He quickly retrieves it and shoves it back in his pocket, swearing under his breath.
‘Please don’t take her, Marcus,’ Grace warns, but the words don’t penetrate the dense air.
‘Come on,’ he says through gritted teeth. Then he swings open the front door, half drags Kaia through it, and slams it closed behind them. Grace stares at the shuddering doorframe, rooted to the spot. Why didn’t she stop him? What’s he going to do to Kaia?
‘Don’t worry, he won’t hurt her now.’ Josh’s voice is deep and smooth. She looks at her older brother, now standing behind her in the hallway. There are still signs of his youthful charm, the chestnut eyes that shone with high spirit, but they’re now overlaid by a maturity, a sense of worldly wisdom.
‘Because they’re in the park?’ she asks. ‘You’d be amazed, what people choose not to see. I need to find them.’
‘Listen,’ Josh goes on, reaching for Grace’s arm. ‘I get that a man of Marcus’s stature would be intimidating to call out. But anger comes in waves, building to a crescendo and then receding. Marcus has hit that peak already, in here, when he swore at her. He’ll only be feeling remorse now.’
Grace shakes her head scornfully. ‘You think his anger is only verbal? Did you see how fired up he looked?’ She pulls away from him then yanks her trainers from the shoe rack and sinks onto the floorboards. ‘Have I been letting it happen?’ she asks, pulling at the laces. ‘Under my own roof, and doing nothing?’
‘Listen, Gracie, I’ve seen for myself that Marcus can be aggressive, but show me a rugby player who doesn’t have that fire. Abusing his own child is completely different.’
‘But Kaia’s not his own child, is she?’ Grace says, looking up at her brother. ‘He’s raising Coco’s child. Could that be causing this? The weight of it?’
Josh stays silent for a moment. ‘Who did Coco put as Kaia’s father on her birth certificate?’ he eventually asks.
‘No one, father unknown.’ Grace pushes off the floor and reaches for her jacket. She needs to find her daughter, protect her, but the comfort of being here, with Josh, is slowing her down.
‘That must be difficult for Marcus to look at.’
‘Even Kaia’s passport causes tension, their different surnames. I keep it in my desk drawer in my office so that Marcus doesn’t come across it by accident.’
‘Lack of legitimacy is difficult, especially as children get older and push boundaries more generally. That’s why the adoption process is so lengthy, because it can be harder for non-biological parents.’
‘Unless she is his biologically,’ Grace spurts out. It’s too hard, keeping her fears to herself.
‘What do you mean?’
Grace leans her forehead against the front door and closes her eyes. ‘I never told you this, but Marcus and I bumped into Coco in Phuket on our way to New Zealand. It was New Year’s Eve, and I got blind drunk. Coco and Marcus carried me back to the hotel room; I blacked out, and nine months later Coco has a baby.’
‘You think Marcus is Kaia’s real father?’ Incredulity sparks off Josh.
‘I know it sounds crazy.’
‘And that he’s been keeping the truth from you all this time? Do you think he’s capable of that?’
‘Perhaps not, but isn’t that the point?’ She whirls around to face her brother. ‘He drinks too much, smokes even though I beg him not to. It used to take a huge amount to make him angry; now it seems the smallest thing can set him off. Maybe he can’t cope with all the lies, and that’s why he’s hurting Kaia?’
Josh blinks and scratches at his neck. Then he locks eyes with Grace, and his expression says it all. A chill skitters down her spine as she pushes open the front door.
Chapter 36
MARCUS
2005
Marcus stretches up as far as he can, then twists his racket and thumps the ball over the net, his eye tracking it to the inside corner of the opposite service box. But he’s overdone it. The ball bounces just beyond the white line.
‘Just out, mate,’ Josh calls, spinning his racket as he waits for Marcus to set up his second serve.
‘Fuck you, arsehole,’ Marcus murmurs as he bounces another ball, knowing Josh is well out of earshot. He should have suggested they do some weight training. Or sprint sessions. But Josh challenged him to a game of tennis and, like a mug, he accepted. Now he’s three games down and serving to stay in the set.
He uses less force on his second serve, and Josh returns it with ease. They trade a few shots, back and forth over the net, but as Josh’s hits go deeper, Marcus knows it’s only a matter of time before he fucks one up. And with that thought, he slams a backhand into the net.
‘That’s my game, I think?’ Josh calls from across the court.
‘Of course it’s your fucking game, and set,’ Marcus responds under his breath. He needs to stop talking to himself. He raises, and lightens, his voice. ‘I think that gives you the win, mate.’ He watches Josh walk towards the net and steels himself for the inevitable handshake. This happens in rugby too, congratulating the other side at the end of a match, and Marcus still struggles to stomach the fake sportsmanship. At least, when he loses.
‘Man, it’s hot.’ Josh wipes his Wimbledon wristbands across his forehead. ‘Shall we get a drink?’
Marcus takes in his friend’s open expression. Josh has moved on already, not bragging about his win. So why the hell can’t he? He closes his eyes for a second, brings up the image of his glory try that sealed Chilford’s place at the top of the schools rugby league last season, and smiles. ‘Yeah, a drink would be good.’
Faith is in the kitchen when they walk inside. ‘Hi, Marcus, good game?’
‘Oh, you know, got annihilated by your son.’
Faith laughs nervously, but looks at Josh. ‘That’s not the way to make friends.’
‘Marcus doesn’t mind, do you?’ Josh jostles him playfully, then hands over a cold can of Coke.
Marcus forces another smile as he takes the drink, and the two of them wander into the adjacent sitting room.
‘What are the girls up to today?’ Marcus asks, trying to sound casual. The truth is, he’s been dying to see Coco again and is going nuts about their lack of contact. After their time together in the summer house, their unfinished business, he’d hoped she’d want to see him again, like he did her. But as he’d said goodbye, she’d asked him to keep their liaison a secret. She didn’t want Grace to know, which meant keeping it from Josh too. Marcus had gone into defensive mode, shrugging like he wasn’t bothered either way. But on his cycle home, he’d realised that they hadn’t even agreed a time to meet up again in secret.
It hadn’t helped that Josh then went to London for the weekend to see Dom. Not only was Marcus peeved to not get an invite – his fight with Johnnie had evidently lost him a place on Dom’s appropriate friend list – he also hasn’t had an excuse to visit the Windsors’ house for five whole days.
‘Dunno. They’re upstairs, I think,’ Josh answers, disinterested. ‘Shall we play FIFA?’ He drops to his knees in front of the TV and scrabbles among the wires. There’s a load of expensive gaming kit in front of him, Marcus notes, and he’s treating it like cheap spaghetti.
Marcus twists in his seat. ‘Nah, I don’t really fancy it. Maybe we should see if the girls want to do something?’
Josh looks up. ‘You want to hang out with Grace and Coco?’
Marcus shrugs. ‘It’s just a thought.’
‘You fucking paedo. They’re only 16,’ Josh says, smirking.
‘Legal,’ Marcus can’t help pointing out. Coco is only two years younger than him for God’s sake.
Josh sits up straighter. ‘That’s my fucking sister!’
Marcus realises that the conversation has taken a wrong turn, but he can’t explain that he’s referring to Coco; he promised to keep his mouth shut. ‘I was just making a point,’ he says, lifting his hands, palm side up. ‘I don’t want to shag your sister. I’m just saying that legally I could.’ Shit, that’s not what he meant to say either.
Josh stands up, walks over to the sofa, and hovers over him. For a moment, Marcus thinks his friend is going to punch him. Maybe he wishes he would. Marcus is much stronger, more powerful. And he’s had enough playground scuffles to know how to fight. Not like Josh with his soft public schooling. This is one challenge he knows he can win. He curls his hands into fists and stands up slowly. Nose to nose, Marcus struggles not to land the first punch, to wipe the smug smile off Josh’s face.
Josh takes a step backwards. ‘I’ve just remembered, the girls went into Exeter. Shopping.’
Marcus shakes his head in confusion. Weren’t they supposed to be brawling by now?
‘They told me to invite you over later. Mum and Dad are going out, so we’ll have the place to ourselves.’
‘I thought you didn’t want us mixing with them,’ Marcus grumbles. He should be over the moon to be seeing Coco again, but Josh has messed with his head. Maybe she is too young for him, perhaps he is taking advantage of an unstable little kid.
Josh shrugs. ‘I didn’t think you’d want to, but clearly I’m wrong.’
‘I’m not a …’
‘Whatever, Marcus. I’m not going to judge you. Come back around eight tonight?’
Marcus is clearly being dismissed, and anyway, he’s keen to leave himself. Fucking Josh. That’s exactly what he’s doing, judging him. For what? Falling in love?
Not that he’s in love. He just wants to have sex with Coco.
And she wants it too, just needs a couple of drinks to loosen her up.
He brushes his shoulder against Josh, gives him a slight nudge to remind him who would have won if they had ended up fighting. Then he ambles back through the kitchen, gives Faith a wide smile – Josh isn’t the only one who can turn on the charm when he wants – and leaves through the back door.
His bike is leaning against the garage, and he wheels it across the gravel driveway, the ground cracking and crunching under its weight. Of course he’s excited at the prospect of seeing Coco later, touching her luscious body again. But he’s also vaguely disgusted with himself for being caught under her spell. How can it be that he feels both disappointed with himself for taking advantage of someone so young, and worried that he’s falling for a slut?
As he climbs onto the bike, his mind moves to Josh, and how close they came to fighting. How much he wanted it to happen. They’re supposed to be best mates. What was he thinking? Have his feelings for Coco warped his view of his best friend?
Josh’s house is on a hill and Marcus freewheels most of the way home. When he gets back to the B&B he can hear his sisters giggling in the front room, the Pussycat Dolls playing at high volume. He’s not in the mood for their buoyancy today so he heads for the stairs. But it’s too late, they’ve spotted him.
‘Marcus!’ Izzy squeals. ‘Come on, we’ve got a cameo role for you in our dance.’ She grabs one arm, and Karin clutches the other. Together, they drag him towards the front room.
‘I’m not being in your dance,’ Marcus warns. ‘You know that, right?’
‘Please, Marcus, you just need to do a couple of press-ups with Izzy sitting on your back,’ Karin explains.
‘Yeah, show off your big muscles!’ Izzy squeezes Marcus’s arm but she catches a nerve or something because a jolt of pain fizzes through his bicep.
‘Jesus, Izzy, lay off will you. I’m not your bloody dance prop.’
‘Oooh, someone’s in a bad mood.’ Karin giggles, and then her sister joins in.
Marcus usually likes the sound of their laughter, but today it grates on him. He’s fed up with people thinking they can push his buttons without any fear of reprisal. ‘Just let go of me,’ he whispers angrily. The two of them are still holding an arm each.
‘Make me,’ Izzy says, her eyes twinkling. Daring him.
That’s when Marcus sees red.
He circles his right arm, and the sudden movement knocks Karin to the floor. Then he grabs Izzy around the neck with his free hand and wrenches her off him. It’s not hard – she’s got no strength against his – but he doesn’t let go straight away.
He wants her to feel scared.
Then she starts crying, and he drops his hand. And walks out of the room.
Feeling better.
Chapter 37
GRACE
2019
At first, Grace just walks fast. It’s Saturday morning; the park will be busy. What harm could Marcus do to Kaia there? But her feet don’t trust that logic. They lift, and lurch forwards, and soon she’s running down her street and then zigzagging through the heavy traffic on Garratt Lane. She races past St Andrew’s Church with its newly planted garden. She can see the park up ahead, a small grassy area on one side and the typical range of swings, slides, bars and climbing frames on the other. But it’s not as busy as she’d hoped, just one family in the toddler area and a couple of kids kicking a football on the grass. And she can’t see Kaia.
A few dozen steps more and then she swings open the heavy gate and scans the playground. A jet of endorphins races through her as she sees Kaia in the far corner, hanging on the monkey bars. She’s halfway along, with only her fingers curled around the smooth metal, her face twisted with the effort of holding on. Marcus is sunk down on a park bench, arms crossed, eyes closed, oblivious. A memory of that ambulance ride, Kaia’s little head strapped down, flashes in Grace’s mind. ‘Kaia!’ she shouts, and surges towards her.
Marcus looks up from the bench he’s sprawled on, sees Grace first, then Kaia. But he doesn’t move, just watches the drama unfold, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. ‘It’s the monkey bars, Grace. It’s designed for kids to fall from.’
Grace can’t stand his mocking tone. She puts her arms around Kaia’s torso and lowers her down, then crouches to find eye contact. ‘Are you okay?’
Kaia pushes her lips together. It reminds Grace of those times when she tells Kaia a secret. A present she’s bought for Marcus’s birthday, or a surprise dinner she’s cooking. ‘Can we go home now?’ Kaia finally asks.
‘Of course we can. Go wait by the gate.’ She watches Kaia traipse over to the entrance, one hand disappearing up her opposite sleeve and rubbing at her forearm. Then Grace straightens up and looks at Marcus. ‘You shouldn’t have left without me.’
Marcus stares back, lets out a deep sigh. ‘What? In case I pushed her off the climbing frame? Kicked her down the slide, maybe?’
‘She was about to fall when I got here; and you were ignoring her!’
Marcus pushes off the bench and walks towards her, his acidic breath polluting the air. ‘Do you know what, Grace? I’m getting a bit bored of having to justify myself to you.’
She wants to be mad with him for turning this on her, but as his wide frame looms over her, it’s fear she feels, not fury, and she stays mute.
‘You and your smarmy brother, making out like I’m some sort of thug. I suppose I’ve always been your bit of rough, haven’t I? Posh Oxbridge graduate dates thick rugby player. So I’m bound to be hitting my daughter, aren’t I? Someone like me could never control their temper.’
‘You don’t seem to be controlling it now.’ But it’s a whisper, not an accusation with any strength.
‘Kaia is my daughter, Grace. And I have no regrets about the way I bring her up. So let the social worker come snooping, let the school pass their judgement, and that psychotherapist look down her nose at me. Kaia is mine. I’m not giving her up.’ He pauses. ‘And you’re not taking her from me.’
Grace is only half listening to Marcus’s words. She’s staring at his clenched fists, the tendons in his neck straining as he speaks, his eyes still bloodshot and his mouth gnarled as he spits out his warning. Was it his strength that she fell in love with? She remembers how much his physical power enthralled her 16-year-old self, even when he turned it on her. But there was a vulnerability too, a chink of fragility that she wanted to fill in and smooth over. Did the way Kaia came into their life dig away at that crevice, crack him open and let the poison seep out?
