Page 20

Her Barbie

Later that morning, we came together around cups of tea on the sofa in Susan and Derek’s cosy home. I enjoyed the feeling of the warm mug against my skin, sat next to Ben. They asked how I was, about the police case, and then chatted with Ben about his family. He told them calmly that his parents had both passed, stifled pain spiking his tone; another piece of the man I was slowly starting to understand exposed. It was hard to hear him say the words so bluntly. Susan sweetly offered her condolences whilst Derek seemed unsure what to say. Ben immediately redirected conversation in a way he had clearly done before, talking about his work.

I thought back to when I’d first met Ben. I’d been so vague and nonchalant about Susan and Derek. I looked over to them, sat there; Susan was even leaning forward in her armchair, she was so present and engaged; Derek always had a steady, warm energy. I swallowed, feeling a new appreciation creep in, a new understanding. It was a pleasant surprise, as if my body had released an entirely new emotion. For weeks I’d been living hour by hour, but now, I was sat next to Ben, who seemed to actually like me for me, in spite of everything, with two potential parents who just emanated love.

It was a day I hadn’t thought would be momentous, but it was. A feeling I savoured deeply.

The smell of a wonderful roast dinner was filling the air as Susan excused herself to tend to it.

“Would you like any help?”

I offered.

Halfway out the door, she turned to beam at me. “Of course.”

I grabbed my crutch and followed her through the hall and into the kitchen.

Susan sat me down at the table like last time, handing me some napkins and cutlery, knowing I wasn’t able to be particularly helpful, just pleased I was there.

“I don’t remember Ben being so charming, I see why you’re so taken with each other,”

she said, beginning to carve a perfectly steaming, herb-covered joint.

“You think he’s taken with me?”

I asked, suddenly desperate for her opinion.

She looked at me knowingly. “Very much so, my love.”

I smiled back, feeling it. “Why… why did you keep looking, all those years?”

My life was starting to feel like an empty book that I needed to fill, like I was two thirds of the way through and needed to go back and read the first part again.

She walked over to me, placing bowls of colourful, delicious smelling food in the middle of the table. “I always knew, Ivy. I always knew you were out there. I can’t explain it, and it certainly caused lots of arguments between me and your father. A mother knows. If you’d made it to the door that day, I wouldn’t have needed the DNA test.”

I blinked a sharpness from my eyes. “Really?”

How could she have been here, day after day, hoping for her little girl, when all I had done was survive, not questioning, not thinking about her? How could I have forgotten? How could I not have found my way home sooner?

She placed her small hand on my shoulder and tenderly curled her fingers. “We have lost a lot of years, but you sitting here, in this kitchen, chatting with me, is something I’ve dreamed of.”

We continued the conversation as the men came to join us at the table, still deep in their own discussion. I allowed myself a second to admire them: Ben standing tall, yet perfectly engaging Derek with soft interest; Derek in his green knit jumper, taking pride in everything he was telling Ben.

Susan sat next to Derek, opposite me and Ben, before passing around serving spoons.

“Did you ever get close to finding me? I keep racking my brain, but I don’t ever remember anyone saying or suspecting anything,”

I asked carefully, trying to hide my guilt.

Susan looked up from the bowl of honeyed parsnips. “No, I don’t think so. Especially now, knowing where you were. We thought you were in France at one point; we flew over there and put out posters.”

She flinched as Derek took the bowl from her. “They just swooped in and stole you away. Gone. It was like you’d vanished, there was so little to go off. Over the years so many people came forwards with information, but it was all simply cause for heartbreak. We had a few girls contact us, the police were even hopeful about of one or two.”

“You thought other girls were her, me?”

I choked on the words, picturing the desperate scene.

“Well, there were a few reasons to believe for each one. Sadly, as it was all so public, some people wanted to take advantage.”

Susan encouraged us to start eating as she spoke.

My hand shook as I bought a forkful of glistening lamb and thick gravy to my mouth.

“That’s awful,”

Ben interjected.

I saw Susan place a hand on Derek’s as his expression grew tense.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “It was, but who would have thought, after all that, you would near enough just knock on the door.”

“How did you get out, in the end?”

Derek asked.

He’d barely asked me any direct questions since we met in the station, usually comfortable taking a listening role and supporting his wife. I wondered what sort of answer he was looking for. Did he want to know how I got out physically, or was he asking what changed, why I had suddenly decided to leave? The latter was a question I still asked of myself.

I took a sip of water. “I took their car and ran. It was poorly planned; I just packed a bag in a rush and drove for the gate, like a crazy person.”

I paused to read his face. He wanted more. “I should have thought it through, planned a better route, but I think I knew that if I gave it too much thought, I wouldn’t be brave enough. I never truly thought I was Maeve; I think I just needed a powerful enough reason to leave. The car got me an hour or so away and then broke down. I think you know the rest.”

There was an awkward clattering of cutlery in the absence of a reply from anyone, so I instinctively continued.

“I wish I’d tried harder. I wish I’d questioned them earlier. I’m so very sorry.”

Derek seemed frozen, but Susan jerked up to sit straighter, pointing a finger at me. “You do not apologise. You do not.”

Ben looked at me with a half-smile. “I’ve told her the same.”

“You’re not responsible for any of it,”

Derek added, before looking to Susan with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the times I told you to stop.” He looked back at me with new fragility.

His radiating shame drenched me with a heavy sadness, sending a lump to my throat.

“I understand,”

I whispered, coughing subtly to clear my throat. “The effort you two went to was more than anyone could ever hope for. I’m sor—” I stopped myself. “It’s hard for me to take it in. I didn’t see it, but every day, people message me, telling me how amazing you both were. That you never stopped. I googled the name; if it hadn’t all been there, if your address hadn’t been so easy to find, I wouldn’t have come.”

Susan looked to Derek with pure love in her eyes. “You tried, dear. You always tried your best. I couldn’t have carried on without you.”

Susan wiped her eyes. “Well, Ben, I promise we aren’t usually this intense.”

He paused to finish his mouthful. “Don’t worry about me.”

He looked at me and smiled reassuringly. “I imagine you all have a lot to ask each other still.”

I noticed Susan’s eyes drop down, a small tell of hers that I’d already picked up on.

“Susan?”

I asked, sensing something left unsaid. “Was there something you wanted to know?”

She looked at me, scared, her eyes round and her lips unsteady. “Your mum, was she—?”

Susan paused, struggling for words.

My mind raced to finish them for her: what cruel detail would I need to explain? Had she heard something from the police? It was so hard to talk about the horrible things that poisonous woman had done. I’d had to survive in the moment, make it through by focusing on the next hour. I’d had to belittle the abuse in my own mind to comfort myself. When the details were aired in the cold light of day, it often felt like a whole new trauma. A whole new wound to heal.

“… was she the reason you stayed for so long?”

Susan’s words struck me like daggers. Ben sensed my body flinch and he subtly placed a hand on my knee under the table. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My eyes darted around the room as my breath quickened. Was that what she’d been worried about? So worried that she hadn’t even asked?

The horror of realisation flooded inside of me like a river bursting its banks, seeping into every inch. Ruby should have been the number one reason I left. I felt my eyes glaze over as the words started falling out, beyond my control.

“I don’t remember whether she loved me at first, or how hard she tried, but she was never a mother. I couldn’t fit in, and she realised it before the others. Instead of helping me, or protecting me, she was deeply and adamantly ashamed, like she had to make a show of it. I may not know what it’s like to have a family, but I know that wasn’t it. I know that sounds absurd. I know no one understands why I stayed for so long. I know it makes me the most stupid and pathetic person, and I hate myself for that, but I never felt like there was anything more for me. I never knew there was anyone who would care. It was all I knew.”

I took a deep breath as my words hung vividly in the air.

Keeping my gaze down at the plates in the middle of the table, I picked up the napkin I’d folded earlier, using it to catch a tear that fell from my eye.

Susan extended her hand across the table. I looked up at her to see she was also clutching a napkin and, holding each other’s hands, we both let the tears fall.

Susan drew a deep breath, steadying her words. “I hate to see you talk about things with such pain. I’m sorry I asked.”

“Don’t be,”

I replied, shaking my head, trying to get Ruby’s wrinkled, overly made-up face out of it. “I’m sorry that you ever thought that. I didn’t realise.”

Ben squeezed my knee again. “You lot and that ‘s’ word.”

We all laughed lightly together, grateful for the tone shift.

Once we’d finished eating, Ben stood to help collect up the plates. “That was an amazing dinner, thank you both,”

he said, as he headed for the dishwasher.

I’d tried to carry some crockery from the table, but had been outnumbered and told to rest.

Susan took a dish from him. “You’re welcome. It was a pleasure. You can come with Ivy to see us any time.”

It felt surreal seeing them interacting together; I realised how quickly I’d started to deeply care for these previously unknown strangers.

Maybe it was having Ben there; maybe it was because I already felt exposed and raw, but for the first time, a drop of curiosity had appeared in the puddle of fear in my mind.

“Susan,”

I stuttered. “If… if you still want to show me the rest of the house… I think I feel ready now.”

Derek was the first to react, shooting me a steady look. “Are you sure?”

I nodded.

Susan led the way for the four of us as I navigated the stairs, Ben just behind me. As soon as my head bobbed above the landing, I could see the little pink name plaque labelled ‘Maeve’ on the door. It glittered, with fairies dotted around the golden letters. As I climbed the last step, my body paused involuntarily, freezing in place. Susan strode to the door, pushing it open without hesitation, eager in her excitement to show me the contents of the meaningful room. Ben softly leant into my back, taking some of my weight. He felt warm and familiar as he ran his hand up my arm, gently encouraging me. Derek noticed and looked back to us with fresh concern, giving me the strength to step forwards again, not wanting to disappoint Susan.

I could do this. I needed to do this. It had been a looming pressure playing on my mind throughout my visits – this way it would be over with.

They all watched me make my way through the door, nobody knowing what to expect. As I started to take in the pink walls and slatted wardrobe, something sank within me. It was like I’d never been here. It was a bizarre time capsule, preserved perfectly, with barely a fleck of dust. I ran my fingers over the cartoon dog wallpaper border, walking over to the single bed. The sheets felt soft as I sat down; it was well worn in, but not tired. It felt cold.

“You loved the pink, and the fairies,”

Susan explained readily as she walked to the small wardrobe, pulling it open. There were no clothes on the rail, but the small wooden shelf was covered with plastic horses, Barbies, and boxes of other toys. A tragic museum. “You would ask us to carry a different set down every weekend. For years I found Barbie shoes and Polly Pocket animals in nooks and crannies around the house. It was one of those things that I was sad about, when I realised at one point, I’d found the last one.”

I looked at the cluster of teddies at the end of the bed, displayed neatly in the corner against the wall. A golden Hamley’s bear, a Labrador, a small hedgehog, and a pony. I picked up the horse, stroking its soft mane.

“Did I always like horses?”

“You adored all animals, but you were very excited when Peter, your uncle, got married to Mary, who has the horse,”

Susan answered.

I noticed Derek at the door, quietly watching.

“I told her to pack it up years ago. I’m glad she wears the trousers,”

he joked awkwardly, tucking his hands into his baggy jeans.

I felt a clatter of plastic against the back of my ankle. Bending down I pulled out a brand-new Barbie in a big pink box. She had a blue, shimmering dress like Cinderella, and a collection of small animal friends. I held the box up as the lid lifted gently. She was a pretty doll, with her pink lipstick and tiny, glittery heels. My eyes narrowed as I carefully slid her out. The hairs on my arms prickled.

“You bought me this the day I was taken. I remember.”

I spoke slowly, as if I was talking to myself. She was still tied to her cardboard backing, the smell of the new toy filling the air. “I was sad because you said I could play with her when I got home, but I couldn’t, because I wasn’t there.”

My fingertips stroked her silky blonde hair, neatly fastened into a spiralling bun. The memory had trickled in, but now I’d sensed it, it was like it had always been there, waiting to be seen. Susan clung onto Derek’s hand. I wasn’t sure what this moment meant, but I knew it was something. I smiled at them sadly, before feeling drawn back to the doll.

“I was sleepy,”

I started again, feeling like I’d walked through a secret door in my own mind. “For days, I was sleepy, and confused, they must have given me something.” I looked around the room, searching for another memory, another connection. I noticed a small jar of sand on the drawers. Still clutching the Barbie in her cardboard, I moved to touch the little glass container. “The beach, there was a little house by the beach?” I asked, studying the different coloured granules.

Derek’s voice offered a calm explanation. “My sister has a house in Devon. We all used to go down as a family. You adored the beach.”

“Seahorses? Were there seahorses?”

I asked, looking at him. The image felt both alien and immediately familiar.

“It’s called Seahorse Cottage,”

Susan said, her voice wobbling.

I walked back to the bed and carefully slid the Barbie back into her box, like she was a breakable key, precious and dangerous.

“We’re meeting them there for Daniel’s birthday on Thursday; they wanted me to ask you to come with us, but I felt like it was too much to ask.”

Derek gave his wife a warning look.

“Thursday?”

I repeated, playing it over in my mind, seeing blue seahorses, hearing the sounds of the sea, recalling the smell of fresh, salty air. I could feel it. “I think… I think I’d like to meet them. I think I should.” I looked to Ben for reassurance.

He shrugged and smiled softly; it had to be my choice.

Derek stepped forwards. “There’s no pressure to come. Most of the family are going, and although everyone wants to meet you, we understand it’ll be a lot to deal with.”

I looked to Susan, who looked like she was barely containing herself.

I nodded. “I’m not sure how it’ll feel, but I think it’s time to see them. It’s the right thing to do now.”