Apple of My Eye (28 page)

‘Susie?’

Susan continued to gaze into the mirror. She was shaking, her body discharging tension like electric waves.

‘Susie?’

‘Leave me alone.’ The voice was tight. Like an elastic band about to snap.

‘Thank you for sticking up for me.’

Silence.

‘I should have been the one to do it, just like you said. You didn’t have to.’ A pause. ‘But I’m glad you did.’

Someone tried to open the door. Charlotte waited in vain for Susan to speak.

‘Do you want me to go?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

Though hurt, she knew she had no right to show it. Instead she turned to leave.

‘You’re still my best friend, Charlotte. I didn’t mean what I said last night. There’s nothing weak about you.’

Charlotte turned back, a lump forming in her throat. ‘You’re my best friend too. You always have been and I wish you’d trust me like you used to.’

Susan shook her head. ‘Don’t …’

‘But I must. I know things are wrong and I want to help but I can’t if you don’t tell me what they are. We never used to have secrets from each other and we don’t need to now. You can trust me with anything. You know you can.’

Susan burst into tears. Charlotte made a move towards her but Susan held out an arm, keeping her at a distance.

‘Susie …’

Susan began rubbing her temples, mouthing the word ‘weak’ over and over again.

‘You’re not weak, Susie. You’re the strongest person
I know, and sharing your problems with me won’t change that.’

People hammered on the door. A prefect shouted that if it was not opened immediately there would be trouble. Susan breathed deeply, gaining control of her emotions. She ran a tap and washed her eyes. ‘Better tell them I locked it. I’m in so much trouble already that a bit more won’t make any difference.’

‘Won’t you tell me?’

‘I can’t.’

‘Please, Susie.’

Susan took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Thanks.’

Then went to open the door.

August.

Susan sat by the river bank with Jennifer, staring up at the sky. Though it was cloudless there was a dryness in the air that warned of an impending storm.

Both had their feet in the water, the current tugging at their toes. Jennifer threw pieces of bread to the ducks. ‘Susie, will there be ducks in Australia?’

She nodded, masking her sadness with a smile. Uncle George had accepted the job just as she had feared he would.

Swans glided over, searching for food, scattering the ducks like ninepins. Sighing heavily, Jennifer tossed them some bread.

‘What is it, Jenjen?’

‘I wish you were coming.’

She wished it too. More than anything. To escape
from Kendleton and its whispers and sneers to a place where no one knew her.

But what would happen to those she left behind?

Uncle Andrew had not hit her mother since their confrontation. In fact he was being kinder to her. As patronizing as ever, but kinder. He was drinking less too. And when Mr and Mrs Wetherby had come to complain about her own ‘vicious assault on poor Alice’, he had taken her part, diffusing their anger with apologies and winning them over with charm. There had been no comparable visit from Mr and Mrs Forrester, but then Alan was hardly going to make an issue of being floored by a girl.

She wanted to believe she was responsible for this improvement. That she had frightened him into changing his ways. But in her heart she knew she hadn’t. He wasn’t frightened of her. She was the one who had reason to be afraid.

Things
were
better. That should have been enough to make her happy.

But until she knew the reason why, her sense of unease would remain.

‘Why won’t you come?’ asked Jennifer.

‘Because I have to stay here and take care of my mum.’

Jennifer looked reproachful. ‘You promised you’d take care of me.’

‘I will.’

‘No you won’t.’ Jennifer started to cry. It was like a blow. Susan tried to hold her but was pushed away.
Instead she stroked her hair. It was turning gold in the sun, looking more like Auntie Emma’s every day. She remembered how hurt she had been when Auntie Emma had left. A woman who had been a surrogate mother to her, just as she had been to Jennifer. A mother and a sister.

She tried again. This time Jennifer allowed herself to be held.

‘I’ll always take care of you, Jenjen. Even when you go away, and that’s not for four whole months, I’ll still be with you in here.’ She touched Jennifer’s chest. ‘And if ever you feel sad you just think of me and know that I’ll be thinking of you and if I’m doing that then I’ll be taking care of you and that’s the truth.’

It wasn’t, of course. Just the best she could do.

But it made Jennifer smile and that was all that mattered.

‘But you won’t feel sad. You’ll have too much fun. There are so many things for you to see and do …’ She began to paint a picture of Australia as the most exciting place on earth. Perhaps it was. Whatever it was like it had to be better than here.

A narrow boat came down the river, stirring the water, disturbing the ducks and swans. A man with grey hair and a kind face stood at the helm while two bull terriers sat on the roof snapping at each other, fractious with the heat and the impending storm.

The man waved to them. She waved back, wishing she could climb aboard with her mother and Jennifer, sail away and never return.

*

Saturday morning. One week later.

She stood at the kitchen sink, helping her mother wash the breakfast things. Uncle Andrew had left early to play golf with Uncle George. The two of them had been seeing more of each other since the news about Australia. They had been friends for twenty years and would miss each other when the time came.

Though not as much as she would miss Jennifer.

She looked out at the back garden. The grass was withered, the ground parched. The storm of seven days ago had done nothing to break the heat that blanketed the town.’ When are you collecting Jennifer?’ asked her mother.

‘In half an hour.’

‘She’ll enjoy the fair.’

‘So will I.’

Her mother smiled, looking more relaxed than she had in months.

‘Why don’t you come too, Mum?’

‘I’ve got things to do.’

‘You need to have some fun.’

‘You sound like your father when you say that.’

‘And he was always right. Please come.’ She smiled too. ‘They’ve got swing-boats.’

Her mother shuddered.

‘Remember when we went on swing-boats at Lexham fair with Dad and Charlotte?’

‘Don’t remind me. You sat on my knee and Charlotte sat on your father’s and you swung us so high I was
terrified that after all the candy floss you’d eaten you’d both be sick!’

‘Liar. You were scared because you don’t like heights. I remember you shouting, “No, Susie! Not so high! For the love of God not so high!”’

‘And your father kept singing “Swing Low Sweet Chariot”!’

‘And then that stuck-up cow on the next boat complained about him singing “nigger music”, so he did his Al Jolson impression and started calling her mammy!’

Both of them were now laughing hard. As she wiped her eyes Susan had a sense that somewhere her father was watching and laughing too.

‘Please come, Mum. I know you’ll enjoy it.’

‘Very well. But we must finish this first. There’s a plate in your stepfather’s study that needs washing too.’

‘I’ll get it.’

As she walked upstairs she realized that she felt happy. Suddenly the reasons for Uncle Andrew’s changed behaviour were not important. The change itself was enough.

His study door was open. The plate was on his desk, sitting on top of a pile of papers. She picked it up.

And saw the brochure underneath.

She turned to the first page.

Scotland?

Her heart racing, she read on.

Five minutes later she re-entered the kitchen. ‘What the hell is this?’

Her mother turned. When she saw the brochure she paled.

‘I’m not going to boarding school!’

‘It’s just an idea.’

‘Whose? Yours?’

‘No.’

‘His, then. I thought so. He’s trying to separate us but it’s not going to work. If he sends me away I’ll just get expelled and sent home again. Don’t think I won’t!’

‘But Susie …’

‘He’s being nice now but how long do you think that’s going to last? What if it stops when I’m not here? Who’ll protect you then?’

‘And what if it stops when you are here? Do you really think you’ll be able to protect me, because I don’t. Not when it’s your fault he acts like that in the first place.’

‘That’s not true!’

‘Yes it is! He’s a good man. He only acts badly because you make him angry.’

‘Who are you trying to convince, Mum? Me or yourself?’

‘He
is
a good man. He is!’

‘And you need him, don’t you? That’s what you believe. What he’s taught you to believe. That you need him far more than you need me.’

Silence.

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’

Her mother lowered her eyes.

‘Thought so.’

‘Susie …’

‘You don’t have to come to the fair. Like you said, you’ve got things to do.’

She put the brochure on the table then left the room.

A Monday morning at the start of September. The first day of the school term. After finishing her breakfast Susan went upstairs to brush her teeth.

She was wearing her Heathcote uniform. Since her discovery of the brochure her mother had made no mention of boarding school. Neither had Uncle Andrew.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking of it.

And what will he do to Mum if I refuse to go?

As she reached the second floor she heard voices coming from his study. Uncle George was visiting. She knew she should say hello but did not feel sociable. Instead she tiptoed down the corridor so as not to alert them to her presence.

She stood in the bathroom between the study and her bedroom. In the mirror she noticed a piece of loose
thread hanging from her sleeve. Picking up a pair of nail scissors, she prepared to cut it off.

Their voices carried easily from the study. She assumed they were talking about the previous day’s golf. Idly she began to listen to their conversation.

And realized they were discussing something very different.

‘It’s not that I don’t want to take her,’ said Uncle George. ‘Of course I do. She’s my daughter. But there’s going to be so much travelling. I could be away for weeks at a time.’

‘And that would mean leaving her with strangers in a strange country. It wouldn’t be fair when she’s so young.’

‘I still wonder if I should tell them I’ve changed my mind.’

‘You can’t do that.’ Uncle Andrew’s tone was forceful. ‘You’ve been saying all along that this job is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, just as I’ve been saying all along that leaving Jennifer with us is the perfect solution.’

‘But it’s such an imposition.’

‘No it’s not. We love Jennifer. And she could come to you in the holidays when you’ve got time to spend with her. That way she doesn’t have to be uprooted from her home, her school and her friends.’

‘I wish Susie was going to be here too. You know how Jennifer adores her.’

‘Yes, but it can’t be helped. It’s just not working at Heathcote and there are no other suitable schools in the
area
, so from next term it will have to be boarding school.’ A pause. ‘One good thing, I suppose. Jennifer can have Susie’s room. I’m sure she’d like that.’

‘I’m sure she would too.’ Uncle George sighed. ‘Well, if you’re certain.’

‘I am, so stop worrying. I’ll take good care of Jennifer. She’ll be the apple of my eye …’

Susan grew cold all over.

The conversation continued. She tried to listen but suddenly it was like the day her father died and all the sound had drained out of the world, leaving her trapped in a silent movie with only the cue cards of her thoughts for company.

But this time they were not just collections of random words. They had form and they had structure. To read them was as simple as breathing.

And at last everything was clear.

Her right hand hurt. The scissors had cut into her finger. Blood from the wound dripped into the basin. The same dark liquid that had proclaimed her womanhood and freed her from Uncle Andrew’s attentions.

But Jennifer was still a child. A sweet, pretty, vulnerable child who believed implicitly in the goodness of others. A child who would believe anything a trusted adult told her. A child no one could consider wicked. Not unless they were truly wicked themselves.

She pictured Jennifer lying in the bed she had lain in, listening to the sounds from the study, watching for shadows in the hall, knowing that she was wicked and that this frightening ritual was her own fault. Knowing
but not understanding. Praying for Uncle George to come and save her yet convinced he would hate her if he discovered just how wicked she was.

Praying for Susan to come and save her …

You must never tell anyone, Jenjen, because if you do they’ll tell your father and he’ll stay in Australia and you’ll never see him again. You’ll lose him for ever, Jenjen, just like you lost your mother.

She gazed into the mirror. In her mind’s eye she saw her own father looking just as he had on the day he died. A kind man with untidy hair, twinkling eyes and a smile that could light up a whole room. But he wasn’t smiling now. His expression was fearful, as if sensing the violence that was stirring inside her.

This is wrong, Susie. This isn’t the way. Listen to me. Please listen …

But she wouldn’t. Not to a ghost from an earlier life that seemed more like a fairy tale than anything real. He couldn’t help her. The only person she could depend on was herself.

Stretching out her hand she touched the glass. ‘Goodbye, Dad,’ she whispered. ‘I love you and I’ll always miss you.’