Page 10

Prosecco truths

I beat Ben. When I got the tie breaker correct before the host had even stopped speaking, I laughed at the face he made so hard my ribs hurt.

Target: 245

Numbers: 25, 50, 2, 1, 4, 8

It made me wonder if I was a competitive person, underneath it all. Life outside of Henworth involved figuring out what colours I was inside. I wondered if every part of my personality was a coping mechanism to survive; each new day away from that place and those people, I felt I could explore a bit further, even if it felt like a disservice to the pain.

Drifting awake, I reached down to scratch my leg. Finding plaster, I grunted, reaching for my scratching comb. I was so over this cast; I swore they would find a home of ants in there when they eventually took it off. I noticed steam dancing from a mug of fresh tea. I stared at it whilst immediately trying to deny last night’s conversation. I ran my fingers through my hair, twirling it in front of my eyes. Still blonde.

When I ventured out of the bedroom, things were immediately strange between me and Ben. Too much smiling.

Conveniently, he got called away on business the next day. I heard him angrily insisting he couldn’t go, but convinced him I’d be alright, needing to try and figure out what was happening. Apparently, him thinking I was a thief was at least one animosity we were past.

Ben

Good morning. How you feeling today?

Me

Enjoying the peace and quiet, actually. Polishing every surface to make sure the place still looks unlived in – found your stash of premium microfibre cloths. ?? How’s Scotland?

Ben

Good. Successful. We’ve been making progress with the restructure. I told you I’m not home a lot usually. You don’t need to clean, Vicky will be in later, don’t forget.

Me

Get back to work already x

When the evening came, Lucy burst through the door, shaking two bottles of Prosecco at me, looking relaxed in leggings and a cream jumper.

“El la la la! I’ve had a shitty day. Let’s get drunk in my brother’s bachelor pad.”

I grinned at her, instantly feeling her energy lift mine.

“Hi Lucy.”

I smirked, rising to grab some glasses. They were on the top shelf, so even at full stretch only my fingers grazed the crystal bases. Kitchens should be accessible for all heights; I hated that Ben’s cupboards had entire shelves I couldn’t reach. “What’s up?”

Lucy grimaced. “Steven is still pushing the issue of having Isac back at his house. Then Teresa started messaging me.”

She proceeded to show me the texts between her and Steven’s partner as we went to sit down. Isac had finally opened up to Lucy that his stepbrothers were bullies, so Lucy had stopped him visiting. Teresa was trying to make out that the boys were really upset, saying that Lucy was causing drama and punishing Steven for the sake of it.

“She’s jealous because she’s not as pretty as you,”

I said, enjoying the cool bubbles as they fizzed on my tongue.

“Younger.”

“Barely. I mean, she’ll always be waiting for him to get bored of her too.”

“Here’s hoping.”

Lucy had already finished her first glass and was now ordering pizzas as we sat on the sofa.

“So, what have you decided to do with your life?”

I laughed. “That’s deep for one glass, Lucy. Give me a chance.”

She grabbed the frosted bottle from the silver cooler –which, naturally, Ben just had lying around. The ice cubes rattled as she poured me a fresh glass with a wink.

“Drink up, then. What’s the big plan? I’m kind of jealous. You have, like, this total fresh start, you know. You can be whoever you want to be.”

I loved and hated how upfront she was. “I liked doing accounts before, and caring for the horses.”

“Good god, no! You can’t, please!”

She feigned collapsing back into the sofa, a drop of prosecco sloshing on her jumper.

I laughed. “What do you mean?”

“What sort of weird therapy has Ben pulled on you? You tell him that and he might propose, for real this time.”

I scowled at her.

“You know what I mean, Elle. What are you doing about your potentially sought after DNA?”

I took a long drink. “I don’t think it’s the right time. Look at me.”

I wiggled my toes. “What would they think? I need to get myself well before I stroll up to two people and drag up their painful past to just inevitably disappoint them, embarrass myself and piss on the tentative peace Marcus brokered.”

Lucy frowned. “Peace is not the word I’d use. Look.”

She tucked her legs up on the sofa so she could face me, making herself comfortable. “I did some reading about them.”

“Lucy!”

“What? You’re telling me you haven’t? You’re not curious?”

Certain emotions had always overpowered others for me, and fear always trumped curiosity. Looking would make everything harder.

“No.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m nosey enough for the both of us. They do indeed still live in that house, and every year the whole street put out tealights for you on your birthday.”

“You can’t say my birthday.”

“On her birthday, then. The girl who has the same scar as you; who looks remarkably similar to you; who disappeared when she was five years old, which is the same age you were in your first memories of the caravan park.”

“We don’t know that the first one is true, Lucy. I showed you, it’s all scarred,”

I objected. “And just because we have the same eye and hair colour doesn’t mean anything.”

“So? Do a DNA test and find out,”

she retorted.

I rested my head back and shut my eyes. Lucy was bursting my safe bubble of denial.

“Elle.”

Lucy placed a friendly hand on my knee. “I cannot imagine how I would live if that happened to Soph or Isac. When children go missing… Elle, finding a body is sometimes better for the parents than the relentless uncertainty – at least death brings closure. They never had any other children. They’re still searching, year after year, doing all those news stories and stuff.”

“Exactly.”

I lifted my head. “What if I get their hopes up and I’m not her?”

“Then you move on with your life, and you maybe give the police a lead with the photo.”

My breath caught. “I don’t have it anymore.”

“What?”

I put my glass down on a coaster, regret heavy in my bones. “The photo, I’ve not had it since the attack. They took it.”

Lucy tapped her glass against her lips. “But you know it was there. That’s something. Look, we go round in circles and we never seem to actually have the conversation. What if you are her? What if you find your family? What if they get their daughter back?”

I cleared my throat and sniffed back a wave of emotion. “What if they do, and they realise they were better off not knowing?”

Lucy squeezed my knee again, putting her glass down. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

I lifted her glass onto a coaster.

“Oh, come off it. Tell me or I’ll… I don’t know.”

“Arrange another marriage for me?”

She laughed. I liked how she laughed; it was always free and loud and jiggly.

“I like you, Elle, you know that? I was looking forward to hanging out more this evening.”

I sighed. “Isn’t it worse if they find out it’s me? What have I got for them to be proud of?”

My voice cracked as I aired the words that had bubbled up from a deep, dark well in my mind.

Lucy flung her arms around me, her thick hair tickling my nose. “Elle, don’t be an idiot. You’re the strongest woman I know. You left them, by yourself.”

I held my body stiff, keeping the fragile wall of control as she moulded to me. “When I was twenty-four, after all those years. And I didn’t just stay, Lucy, I did things. Things that make me incredibly unworthy of all of this, let alone them.”

She reached round and lifted my hands to her back, making me hug her. “You went to their house once, wanting to find out. What changed?”

I pressed my hands into her back, blinking away an unwelcome tear. I was always one thought away from blubbering and I was sick of it.

“Every day that I’m not there, I remember more. It’s like I was coping before; keeping my head above water.”

I pulled away and grabbed a tissue from the stainless-steel box, mopping at my face. “But now… you and Ben have been so kind, I finally see how wrong it all was. How everything was an ugly lie and how I could’ve done better, should’ve done better.”

Lucy took my hand. “Stop being so hard on yourself.”

I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass of the coffee table, I was still bruised, and now blotchy too. I looked at her. How much further was there to fall?

“When I wouldn’t lift money from the books of one of the clients, they shot Baloo, my dog…”

I let the words hang in the air, heavy. Waiting for Lucy to pale and run for the door.

To her credit, she adjusted her position and reached down, passing me my glass. “Okay.”

I traced a stripe of condensation. “So, I did, once, but I couldn’t handle it, so I told the client – they’d become my friend and I knew they couldn’t afford it. I begged them not to go to the police, to just steer clear and get another accountant, but they did, and things… escalated.”

“What happened?”

Lucy asked, calmly.

“They ended up in hospital.”

“And you?”

“I deserved what I got.”

I licked my lips and rested my shaking hand, steadying the glass on my knee and watching as the drink rippled. Remembering didn’t just feel like I was seeing it, recalling it; I was living it, feeling it, tasting it.

“Jesus, Elle. That’s awful.”

I looked up at her. “It was all my fault, Lucy. Whenever I tried to do the right thing, someone always got hurt. The police did nothing, things only got darker, and to make up for me involving them, they… made me keep the officers… quiet… appease them.”

“Bastards,”

Lucy muttered.

“This is what I’m saying, Lucy. My past, it’s all grey. I’m not this innocent victim. I saw things… I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing. It wasn’t like I had anyone I could tell. Then it got worse when I met Sam; I finally had a reason to keep the peace, so I stopped fighting all together. They knew not to ask me to get directly involved any more, but I knew the things they were doing.”

Lucy just shook her head.

“Do you see? That’s why I can’t just speak to the police. Not only do they already know, but I’m complicit. They made me part of it, Barnes and Dores. He made me part of it.”

My stomach turned as I remembered the taste of the whisky they’d plied him with. The smell of his sweaty boxers. The feeling of desperately trying to relax so at least it wouldn’t hurt.

“What about your parents?”

I scoffed. “I was never good enough for them. Especially Ruby, she resented me no matter what I did. I spent years trying to please her, but it was like the harder I tried the more disgusted she was.”

“What about school?”

I shook my head. “I was homeschooled.”

“By who?”

“Myself, I guess. I told you, this is why you can’t get involved with me. I shouldn’t have even told you those things. You have kids; Ben has this life. I’m a poison. Don’t you see? I’ll destroy it all without even meaning to. I’ll do that to them, too, to Susan and Derek. They won’t want this. I think it’s probably better they just don’t know.”

Lucy grabbed both my hands, sloshing my drink. “Abusers do this, Elle. They make you feel small, they’re clever like that. None of what happened was your fault. You’re a kind, sweet, genuine person despite everything you have been through, which makes you a saint. A hero. You need help, and we can find it for you. You deserve to choose how to live the rest of your life. Let me help you.”

Fresh tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision. “Why? Why would you do that? Why aren’t you listening?”

“I want to help you because I’ve been listening.”

I sobbed. “You don’t hate me?”

It sounded so juvenile; a pathetic plea I had no right to make.

“Not at all.”

We looked at each other for a long second; a few long seconds.

“What if they hate me? I don’t think I can take anyone else being ashamed of me,”

I mumbled, my voice cracking as my throat closed up.

Lucy held my eye contact, showing me that she wouldn’t falter. “Either way, they won’t. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can.”

The bell buzzed, making me jump.

“That’ll be the pizza,”

Lucy said, walking to the door. She took the boxes, kicking the door shut, before setting them down on the coffee table. “I’m a mother, Elle, and I’m yet to hear you say a single thing that makes me think less of you. Well, apart from liking my hugely obnoxious brother.”

I winced. “I appreciate you being so kind, really, I do, but they’re bad people, and—”

“And what?”

she interrupted. “Regardless of biology, it doesn’t sound like they were real parents to you. Are you forgetting that I saw you in the hospital? After what they did? You just told me that you told that client the truth, despite the consequences.”

“I could’ve done more,”

I mumbled, the words falling out of me as my eyes looked at the floor.

“Like what, exactly? Indulge me,”

Lucy pushed, staring at the side of my face.

I looked at her. “Like anything.”

“Like told the police? Oh wait, no. How about pack a bag and run away with nowhere to go? Sit at the side of the road, in the dark, alone. Knowing how fucking scary they were, because even that was better than staying?”

She flicked open a box of pizza, letting the soothing smell of warm cheese fill the air before grabbing a slice and biting the end.

“You weren’t there,”

I insisted. “I should have done something.”

She grabbed a tissue from the box and rubbed her fingers on it. “Look, I don’t want to come in here and push you to talk about things you’re not ready for, but I don’t want you to think you have these big secrets to be ashamed of. I want you to know we can talk about this stuff, when you want to.”

She shut the box and slid it over, leaving her palm flat on the top. “Alright?”

I relented, nodding.

Lucy smiled, slapping a huge slice of pizza into my hand, pulling at the string of cheese and licking her fingers.

“Thank you,” I added.

“You’re welcome. Now, what shall we watch to distract me from the sheer number of calories I’m enjoying right now?”

I straightened my lips. “A film with a woman so disastrous that I feel better about myself?”

She topped up both our glasses before wiping her hands on her leggings and reaching for the remote control. “Bridget Jones?”

“Hm, she’s just unlucky, isn’t she? She ends up with two hot men chasing after her even though she wears huge knickers.”

“Black Swan?”

I laughed.

“Ooh, no, we need Kill Bill!”

My phone vibrated on the table in front of us.

Ben

How’s your evening? Tell me Lucy isn’t making a mess of my apartment? x

Me

She did say she should have bought some of that pink glitter you put in drinks. Maybe next time x

Lucy leaned over the now empty boxes; the alcohol had got us both to the point where all movements were exaggerated, and we had indeed started watching Bridget Jones.

“Is my brother texting you?”

she asked, tilting my phone. “Oh, tell him to do one. Is he checking on me?”

I laughed and read her his text.

“Tell him you set me up on one of those funny dating apps, the uniform one. No, the older men one!”

We both laughed, falling into each other affectionately.

Ben

Hard no. What exactly are you up to? xx

Me

We’re having a drink and making her some dating profiles. She wanted to try that app for older men xxx

Ben

That better be a joke.

We laughed again. When the film was over and the bottles empty, Lucy made her exit, having both broken me and built me back up all in one evening.

I couldn’t argue with her any more about my DNA. I knew I’d never really be ready.

It was time to open another can of worms.

The next day passed quietly as I carefully considered Lucy’s suggestion.

Lucy

So, I looked at the DNA thing. Previous girls have come forward, so I think it’ll work. We can drop something at the station and get them to check, see if we can rule you in without letting them know who you are. No harm no foul, right? XX

Me

Okay. How was Sophie’s ballet show? XX

Lucy

It was adorable, sickly, even. I felt kind of bad for not tearing up like the other mums. I’ll find out what we need to take. It’s probably a swab. You want me to see if I can sort it today – before you change your mind? XX

Me

No, thanks. I need a bit more time to prepare myself XX

Lucy

I’ll come tomorrow XXX

Ben was due back the next day so I gave the surfaces another quick wipe – it had taken me hours, but I’d made a lasagne for him – before putting on pyjamas.

As I was getting a lost in Tangled, there was a loud bang at the door

I sat bolt upright on the sofa.

I wasn’t expecting anyone.

I went over to the door clumsily with one crutch. Peering through the peephole, I saw a woman. A tall, beautiful brunette, dressed impeccably in a suit dress and Chanel belt. She clutched a perfectly matching Gucci bag and her hair flowed in crafted curls. Her brown eyes were framed by what were either amazing natural lashes, or perfect extensions. I tipped the handle slowly to peer out the door, steadying myself.

Her toned body stiffened immediately. “Oh, who are you?”

The question threw me. “Erm, Ben’s not in at the moment. Can I take a message?”

My reply was nervy and uncomfortable.

“I don’t need you to take a message,”

she spat through her shiny doll teeth. “What are you doing in his apartment if he isn’t here. You’re not even dressed? Is he in there?”

My grip on the door handle tightened with every word that came out of her mouth. “No, he’s not, he’s away.”

She looked me up and down, smirking. “You landed on your feet, didn’t you? Well played.”

I felt even smaller than usual. “I don’t really know what you want me to say, but I think you’d better go.”

I was pleased to be able to force the words out, trying to hide my panic. No one had spoken to me like that in weeks; I could feel my body starting to shake. That feeling of someone hating me, being disgusted by me, triggered my heart to start pounding. I wished I’d changed out of my bloody pyjamas.

“Of course, darling, just tell Ben he owes Jessica lunch when he’s back.”

She looked me up and down again before flicking her hair and stomping off.

I clicked the door shut, turning to lean against it. I listened as her shiny black stilettos clattered rhythmically down the hall and let myself fall to the floor in a cascade of emotions. If that was the type of woman Ben normally spent time with, what was I doing? We couldn’t be friends. Why would anyone want to be my friend? That’s what they had said, again and again.

I slid down further, hugging my knees.

Marcus had once yelled at me so intensely that I’d scrubbed the spit off my face three times, until my skin was raw. The scrubbing had made my face sting, but that was a comfort compared to his venom. He’d lost his temper because I’d let one of the clients off a few payments when I’d known they were struggling financially.

“Stupid whore!”

he’d yelled.

They’d ransacked my caravan, throwing the bed upside down, tossing my pots and pans in the mud, telling everyone I didn’t respect the business or need the money, so I didn’t need any of my stuff. Frank, my dad, had walked past, swigging whisky from the bottle, and hadn’t even flinched as they shoved me into the mud. When your parent doesn’t protect you, it makes you feel like you got exactly what you deserved. If your own parents have a low opinion of you, you must be shit. A shitty, useless person.

My mind was a circus of memories breaking free. Once they were there, if I ignored them, they just became louder, more real, fighting to perform for my attention. I could taste the mud, smell the whisky. Thankfully, my phone distracted me from my spiral, but I must have been there a while because the door had become warm against my back. The thought of standing up felt impossible; I’d been imprisoned by anxiety.

Ben

Good night, I’ll be back tomorrow lunchtime, let me know if you need anything on the way back xx

I considered texting him straight back about Jessica, but it would just make me look more pathetic. Lucy was right, I needed to stop hiding. It was the cold, hard slap around the face I’d needed, sitting alone on a stranger’s floor, somewhere I so clearly didn’t belong. That was the sort of woman Ben had at his beck and call, of course it was. I couldn’t stay here and get drawn in.

Lucy was my friend, and that was more than I’d ever dared to want.