Apple of My Eye (27 page)

Others had gathered to watch. Kate Christie mouthed the word ‘loony’ to Alice Wetherby. Both were smirking, happy she had given them something else to use against her.

Despising them and herself, she did as she was told.

A balmy morning in late June. Susan made her way towards school.

A younger boy sidled up to her. ‘Hello, sexy,’ he said, eager to impress his friends. ‘Busy tonight?’ Normally she would have slapped him down but this time she had more important things on her mind.

The previous evening Uncle George had told her that he had been offered an eighteen-month contract in Australia, starting the following January. He didn’t think he would accept but she felt certain he would soon leave her, just as he had done when she was seven.

And this time he would take Jennifer. The one person who could make her smile no matter how bad she was feeling. Who helped her believe that there was still some good inside her. The person she loved more than anyone else in the world. Her little sister. The only perfect thing in her life.

In the distance Alan Forrester wheeled his bicycle and talked to Charlotte, who had had a crush on him for years. She hadn’t realized the two of them were friendly. Charlotte was laughing, looking happy and excited.

The boy continued to pester her. ‘How about us getting together?’ he asked, trying to sound like an American gangster.

‘Not tonight,’ she told him. ‘Ask again when your balls have dropped.’

He turned crimson while his friends jeered. Alan and Charlotte said goodbye outside the school gates. He kissed her on the cheek. She turned crimson too. In
spite of her anxiety, Susan felt pleased. Charlotte considered herself plain and boring and needed someone to make her feel special.

Just as she needed Jennifer.

Don’t let him take her away from me. Please God, don’t let him take her away.

Monday evening.

She had been walking for hours, along the river then through the town, with no purpose except to escape the atmosphere of dread that filled the house like fog.

Uncle Andrew had missed supper. He would be in the Crown, all bonhomie and generosity, buying rounds and telling stories, charming his fellow drinkers as he consumed the alcohol that would act as fuel for the rage he would unleash on his return home.

Three days ago her mother had broken her finger. Caught it in a door frame. That was the story he had ordered her to tell and which she was too frightened to challenge for fear that he would leave her as he was always threatening to do. ‘And where will you be then? You’ll never survive without me. You need me and you always will.’

It couldn’t go on. Susan knew she had to do something. But what?

She stood outside 37 Osborne Row. The house she had once shared with her father. She longed for him to tell her what to do but when she tried to summon his voice from inside her head she heard nothing but the
whirring of her thoughts, like an orchestra of spinning tops all about to collapse.

Someone called her name. Lizzie Flynn approached with Charlotte, who was wearing a new blouse and skirt. Her hair was carefully styled and there was even gloss on her lips.

And she was crying.

‘I found her in Market Court,’ announced Lizzie. ‘She’d been standing by the Norman cross for two hours. That prick Alan Forrester stood her up.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Alice Wetherby told him to. She was sitting by the window at Cobhams with her gang, all laughing their heads off. I was in there with my sister. That’s how I found out what was going on.’

‘Why would she do that?’

‘Because I beat her in the English exam,’ whispered Charlotte. ‘You know what she’s like about things like that.’

‘So she gets Alan to pretend to be keen on Charlotte,’ continued Lizzie. ‘He’s a friend of her idiot brother. Alan tells Charlotte he’s taking her out, asks her to dress up smartly then leaves her standing there to be sniggered at by that bitch.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Susan told Charlotte.

Charlotte wiped her eyes. Lizzie frowned. ‘Is that all you’ve got to say? It was a vicious thing to do. Alice needs to be taught a lesson.’

Wearily she nodded.

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You must do something.’ Lizzie’s eyes were flashing. ‘She can’t get away with it.’

‘Why can’t you do it?’

‘Because I don’t go to Heathcote …’

‘Or Charlotte? Why does it always have to be me?’ Frustration overwhelmed her. ‘I’ve got problems of my own. If Charlotte wants to teach Alice a lesson then why doesn’t she stop being so bloody weak and try doing it herself?’

Charlotte flushed. Lizzie shook her head. ‘You’ve really changed. I used to like you. You used to be worth something as a friend. Now you’re only interested in yourself. You’re just a selfish cow. You’re no better than Alice.’

She couldn’t listen to this. Pushing past them both, she headed for home.

Next morning she sat alone at the kitchen table.

Uncle Andrew appeared, fastening his tie. He was unshaven and looked tired. She had no idea what time he had come home the previous night.

‘Where’s Mum?’ she asked.

‘In her room.’ He grabbed a piece of toast. ‘I’ll be in my study. I’ve got phone calls to make.’

She carried a cup of tea upstairs. Her mother was sitting in bed, wearing a nightdress and with a bandage on the middle finger of her left hand. The curtains were drawn and the window open, letting in the song of birds from the park at the centre of the square.

She put the cup on the bedside table then sat on the bed. Her mother stared down at the sheets, her face strained with pain.

‘What happened, Mum? What did he do to you?’

No answer.

‘Mum?’

The head rose. For a moment the eyes were as blank as they had been on the day of the breakdown. Her heart began to pound.

‘Mum, it’s me.’

Recognition. A cold smile. ‘Why are you here?’

‘What did he do to you?’

Her mother lifted her nightdress to reveal a row of bruises across her belly.

Susan gasped.

‘Don’t pretend you care.’

‘Of course I care. He can’t treat you like this. He can’t …’

‘It’s your fault that he does.’

‘What?’

‘You’re to blame for this.’

‘How can you say that?’

‘Because it’s true. This is your fault. When he was pleased with you he was kind to me but now you just make him angry and I’m the one that suffers.’

‘But Mum …’

‘Just get out! Go to school. I don’t want you here.’

She stood in the doorway, shaking with shock, hurt and anger, listening to Uncle Andrew laughing on the telephone. All warmth and affability. Her
stepfather. The nicest man you could ever meet.

Walk away, Susie. Don’t make it worse.

Walk away walk away walk away.

But she couldn’t. Not any more.

So she went upstairs.

He was sitting at his desk, facing the far wall, so busy laughing that he didn’t hear her enter. She shut the door behind her, reached over him and disconnected the call.

‘What the hell …’

She turned his chair round and stared into his face. ‘If you ever lay another finger on my mother I swear to God I’ll make you sorry!’

His eyes widened. For a moment he looked frightened.

But only for a moment.

‘Are you threatening me, Susie?’

‘Leave her alone.’

‘Or what?’

‘You’ll see.’

‘You don’t want to go making threats. They might make me angry, and who knows what could happen then.’

‘You wouldn’t tell her.’

‘Wouldn’t I?’

‘You promised me!’

‘Perhaps I had my fingers crossed.’

‘You couldn’t! Think what it would do to her.’

He was smiling, enjoying her desperation and his own power. ‘Then no more threats, because one careless remark is all it would take. The cat would be
out of the bag, and imagine how your mother would feel about you then.’

‘And imagine how the rest of the town would feel about us both.’

The smile faded.

‘Because it’s not just my dirty secret, is it? And if it got out do you really think you’d still be friends with the mayor and doing wills for people like Mrs Pembroke, because I don’t. Not a chance. They wouldn’t be able to drop you fast enough.’

His face darkened. He rose to his feet. ‘You’d better stop this, Susie.’

She stood her ground. ‘How do you think they’d feel, Uncle Andrew?’

He took a step towards her. ‘I told you to stop.’

‘I might lose Mum but you’d lose too. You’d lose everything. I’d make sure of it!’

‘I said stop!’

‘And what will you do if I don’t? Hit me? Go ahead. I’m not frightened. I’m not Mum. But that’s the point, isn’t it? You wouldn’t want to hit me. It’s only exciting when the person is afraid.’

He slammed her against the wall, one hand gripping her throat. His breathing was ragged, his eyes narrowed into slits. He looked bestial. Murderous.

And at last she was afraid.

‘And who is going to listen to anything you say? You. Susan Ramsey, the town bike. The girl every boy’s ridden. I’ve heard the stories they tell about you. And if you try telling stories about me they’ll just shake their
heads and feel sorry for me. The man who took you into his home and gave you the best of everything. Who’s been a far better father to you than your own ever was, but who still couldn’t stop you going off the rails and acting like the spiteful little slut you really are.’

He was choking her. Her head was spinning.

‘And your mother won’t believe it either. Not coming from you. She won’t allow herself to believe it because I’m the one she needs. She can’t survive without me. She’s barely surviving as it is. She’s on the edge, Susie. One good hard push from me and over she goes, and this time she won’t come back. You’ll lose her for ever just like you lost your father.’

He put a finger to her lips.

‘So if you want to stop that happening keep your mouth tight shut, because if you ever try and cross me I’ll make you sorrier than you can possibly imagine.’

Then he released her, stepping backwards and folding his arms.

‘Do you understand?’

She rubbed her throat.

‘Do you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Now get out.’

Half an hour later she approached the school gates.

People surrounded her. Her head was in such turmoil that she was unable to process the voices around her, as if the rest of the world had started speaking a new language.

Charlotte walked ahead, shoulders sagging. Alice and Kate stood at the gates, waiting to gloat. Alan Forrester approached on his bicycle, whistling cheerfully, oblivious to the hurt he had helped cause.

And as Susan watched him something inside her snapped.

She called his name. He stopped alongside her, grinning inanely. ‘What?’

Then she punched him in the mouth, knocking him off his bicycle and on to the ground.

Alice, realizing what was coming, tried to run. But others blocked her path. Susan strode towards her, shoving a protesting Kate to one side. ‘We need to talk, Alice,’ she announced, grabbing her by the hair and hurling her against the gates.

Alice tried to push her away. ‘You pulled my hair out …’

Susan slapped her face as hard as she could. ‘Listen!’

Then she leaned forward so their noses were almost touching.

‘If you ever hurt someone I care about again I will get a knife and cut your throat. Do you understand?’

‘You’re mad …’

‘That’s right. I’m a loony, just like my mother, and that means I’ll do it. Now tell me you understand.’

Whimpering, Alice rubbed her cheek.

‘Tell me!’

‘I understand.’ Alice looked terrified. The sight excited Susan, making her feel strong. Making her feel better than she had done in a very long time.

She pulled her arm back as if to land another blow, watching Alice flinch, revelling in the fear she was causing and the power she possessed.

And heard her father’s voice in her head.

This is wrong, Susie. This isn’t strength. This isn’t the way. You’re better than this.

The euphoria faded, replaced by frustration so intense it made her want to scream.

Then what is the way? Who are you to lecture me? Who are you to make me feel bad? You left me when I needed you and now the only person I can depend on is myself.

And I don’t know what to do.

She pointed a finger at Alice. ‘Remember.’

Then forced herself to walk away.

Ten minutes later Charlotte entered the toilets on the first floor.

Susan stood by the basins, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Two first-year girls washed their hands while watching her warily, as if she were a dangerous animal. Charlotte gestured for them to leave then locked the door behind them.