Page 17

Her name?

The morning after our date, Ben had headed to the gym, leaving me alone to stare at my phone and freak out about the day before. Susan hadn’t texted me, which I respected – she was obviously trying to follow Linda’s warning. I didn’t know if I was riding off the high of the date, or the kiss, or just trying to not think about Ben’s muscles flexing downstairs, but I pressed the dial button before I could overthink it.

She answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, Susan, um…”

I was stumped instantly.

Strong start.

“Hi, Elle. How lovely that you rang, I was just thinking about you. I saw the photos of Ben on the news, was everything okay?”

Guilt rippled through me. I hadn’t even considered that she might see. “Yes, sorry if you were worried. That was Sam, um, an ex of mine. Ben stepped in to help me, though. Sam tried to get photos.”

“Oh, well, it’s nice to see he’s looking after you.”

I don’t understand how it happened, whether I was just giddy with ridiculous girly joy, but I started telling her about the date. We ended up having a perfectly normal conversation, for the first time.

“Well, he’s very handsome.”

She chuckled warmly. “So, he’s Lucy’s brother?”

My cheeks welcomed a smile. “Yeah, she invited me to stay at Rose Cottage and he was there too. We actually didn’t get on at first, but he was bound to protect his family from the dishevelled stranger. We all went for lunch one afternoon and Sophie fell in the river, so I jumped in to help her. I guess we got close after that.”

We must have been chatting for another half an hour at least, as Ben came back through the door while I was still on the phone, his blue sports top gripping his back. Susan was telling me about how her and Derek had met on a fairground ride; he’d plonked himself down in her cart on the Ferris Wheel. It was a great story.

Ben stopped in the hallway and grinned easily at me. I smiled back, listening to Susan’s voice in my ear.

By the time Ben reappeared after his shower, I’d finished the call, made us hot drinks, and curled up on the sofa.

I picked up the remote.

“Wait,”

Ben called over, moving to sit beside me. “Sam spoke to the press. If I were you, I wouldn’t watch it.”

The good feeling buzzing through me scattered instantly, leaving an emptiness where it had been making space. I leant forwards and gripped my mug, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic.

Ben just watched me.

I chewed my lip. “What is he saying, exactly?”

Ben looked me directly in the eye, not faltering as he explained, with some choice words.

I looked up the headlines for myself:

Maeve White and me – what her life was like.

I loved Maeve White.

The inside story: Maeve White

“It’s all lies,”

I spat as my eyes skimmed all the horrible stories. “He talks as if it was all lovely and perfect. Wait, I dumped him! What the hell… why, why would he do this?”

I noticed the split lip Sam had in the photo, taking marginal solace in it.

“He’s just after money, or fame,”

Ben said with a sigh, hooking one leg over the other.

“I can’t even defend myself. I can’t even set things straight. The press have all these fuzzy pictures of me dodging their cameras. It makes me look awful.”

Ben scratched his jaw. “There was a box in the post room. I picked it up on my way back.”

“A box?”

“A box of letters and cards.”

He paused. “You feeling brave?”

I thumped back against the sofa; my rib hated it, but I didn’t care. “No, but I guess we should just rip the plaster off.”

He patted my knee and stood back up.

The ominous box was so large Ben had to carry it with both hands.

It was filled with everything from cards and teddies, to letters; even some branded gifts people wanted to me wear.

I took my time to read each note, becoming more and more shocked at the outpouring of grief and support.

I’d spent all this time resenting the media – dodging the press and hiding – that I hadn’t considered how they had actually helped me get out.

People had avidly followed that cute little girl in the photo.

They’d watched the documentaries and the news footage, commented on the website, and consistently searched.

The cards were mostly filled with kind words about how strong I was, or how incredible it was to have me back.

People didn’t even seem to want anything most of the time, not even a response.

They were just expressing their feelings of relief, or joy, or sadness for what happened.

There were, of course, a couple from Henworth.

Some simple threats, some attempts at manipulation.

Ben collected them all in an envelope for the police without even looking inside, even though some of them were aimed at him.

There was one in particular that stuck in my mind, about burning down his building; it made me feel ill.

Ben just shrugged.

I couldn’t work out if part of it was denial, or if he hadn’t grasped how unhinged they were.

We ate lunch together as I packed everything else neatly back in the box.

“You don’t want to put the cards up?”

Ben asked as I adjusted the cardboard lid.

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. They’re addressed to Maeve, it just doesn’t feel right. I do need to do something, though. I feel terrible that I’ve been hiding when everyone has been reaching out to me like this.”

Ben leant back into the arm of the sofa. “You’re allowed to hide, if that’s what you want to do.”

“I think I want to respond. To thank people; it would take me hours to reply to all of these. I thought people were just waiting to pull me apart.”

“We could set you up an email address, or something? I saw there were a few interview requests. Although, you really shouldn’t let Sam strong-arm you into doing anything you’re not ready for.”

I put the box on the floor, considering it. “No, I’m not ready for an interview.”

I did not want to sit somewhere and have a camera pointed in my face; I would definitely say the wrong thing.

“Well, if you want to set up an email address, you should probably start with a name.”

“A name…”

“Maeve is legally your name. I know you see her as that little girl, but it’s yours. Equally, Elle is also you. Who you’ve become.”

“They chose that name,”

I grimaced. “They branded me with it.”

“Doesn’t Maeve have a middle name?”

Ben asked as he put his bowl down to pick up his phone. “Ivy. Maeve Ivy White.”

I tilted his phone so I could see. “Oh. I think Susan said it was her grandma’s name.”

Me

Hi, Susan. ‘Ivy’ came up in conversation as we were talking names, did you say that was your grandma’s name? xx

Susan

Hi, how are you feeling now? Did you give any thought to tomorrow, or Monday? Yes, when you were a toddler you used to call her ‘Ve’. It breaks my heart that you won’t get to meet her, that her and my mum won’t get to see what a beautiful woman you became. x

Me

Oh gosh, sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m okay, thanks, I’ve been going through all the cards and letters that arrived. I can’t believe there were so many, that people care so much xx

Susan

You haven’t upset me, love. Yes, we’ve had a lot again lately. People have always followed your story closely. Me and Derek are trying to finish an ongoing puzzle and then I’ll be cooking supper. I’m best when I’m busy. If I may say it without being too forward, it made my day that you called. xxx

“You’re pulling funny faces,”

Ben teased as I glanced up from my phone.

I showed him the screen, tucking my legs up on the sofa, needing to feel a bit smaller for a minute, though nothing was comfortable with the lump of plaster.

I watched his eyes flick over the texts.

“I’m so sorry,”

he said sadly after a minute or so.

“Sorry?”

“Yeah, she seems like she has so much love to give. It’s heartbreaking that it was taken from you. You should see her on Monday, go to their house and get out of the police station.”

I ran my hand through my hair, feeling it glide through my fingers. “Maybe I could cope with the name Ivy. It’s not Maeve, or Elle, but it’s still kind of my legal name.”

“Ivy,”

he repeated, rolling it over his lips.

“Ivy,”

I said again.

Me

Would you mind if I used the name Ivy? Maybe for a while, I’m not sure yet. Elle doesn’t feel right anymore xx

Susan

I would love that, it would be very fitting xxx

Me

Thank you, if the offer is still open, I’d like to come and see you Monday xxx

“You have beautiful eyes, Ivy,”

Ben said softly as I looked up from my phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Testing it out. Why do you hate compliments so much?”

I put my phone down. “Is it bad to say I prefer it when you’re grumpy?”

I watched as he ran his finger over his lips, distracting me as I thought about how they’d felt pressing into mine. I curled a lock of hair around my fingers, some sort of pre-programmed flirtation.

He furrowed his brow to a mock frown. “Fine. Tell me why you hate compliments, Bambi.”

I pressed my thumbnail between my teeth, feeling Ben reach for a scar that didn’t want to be exposed. “I don’t.”

He shifted on the sofa so that his leg pressed against my thigh, pulling down my hand and keeping it in his. “So, if I start telling you…”

He inched closer, his eyes widening as he stared into mine, walking two fingers up my forearm. “How stunning I think—”

I stopped him from finishing his sentence as I felt the blush rise in my cheeks, tilting forwards and pressing my lips into his. I felt him smile as his fingers glided up my arms, brushing past my neck and under my ear. His warm tongue flicked over my lip, so I let him in as my hands pressed into his lap, enjoying the feeling of his jeans pulling tight.

“Quit winding me up,”

I whispered as my eyes drifted open.

Both of his hands swiped my hair gently away as he cupped my face, softly tilting it to his lips as he kissed my cheeks, one at a time. “So, if I wind you up, you’re going to kiss me? I don’t see how that will help me stop.”

My eyes shut again as his fingers gently spread to the back of my head, setting off a tingling from my scalp all the way down my back.

“Fine,”

I conceded, “I don’t like them because I just don’t believe them. I’ve grown up being told the opposite. No one ever found me attractive, and I learnt to accept that so it hurt less. I don’t know if I can open that up again. If I want to.” I bought a hand up to straighten his wonky glasses.

“They were lying, I can assure you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do. Think about all those cards you just read, focus on that, not them.”

I wished it was that easy, but of course it wasn’t. That would be like re-writing my entire brain; that would be feeling like I was safe with Ben forever, safe enough to open that part of me up. Although, it did strike a nerve as he said it, that maybe I had been focusing on all the wrong things.

I had an idea. An idea to start something new, to start a new life, Ivy’s life, whoever she might turn out to be.

IvyMWhite Thank you to everyone who sent me letters, cards, and gifts. I sat here reading them and they bought a tear to my eye. I know many of you have followed my journey, so I wanted to create this profile to respond. I’m incredibly lucky to have found Susan and Derek again and we’re getting to know each other slowly. Without everyone keeping the story alive for so many years, I wouldn’t be writing this; safe and starting a new life today. So thank you, all of you.

I uploaded a photo of the box with a few cards showing and put my phone down, waiting to see if anything happened. As soon as I’d made a fresh cup of tea, I sat down to see thirty comments, then over a hundred when I refreshed.