Blood Rush (Lilly Valentine) (7 page)

‘Is that an end to this business, now?’ Annabelle loaded a tray with teapot, cups and milk in a jug.

Lilly see-sawed her hand. Something about Jack’s questioning bothered her. Not so much what he’d asked, but what he hadn’t.

Annabelle carried the tray to an enormous oak table that could easily seat ten, and began to pour the tea.

‘They didn’t seem to have any evidence against Tanisha at all.’ Annabelle’s tone was bright.

Lilly didn’t want to worry her so she took a seat next to Annabelle. ‘You’ve got quite a place here.’

Lilly had expected a modest semi, or a cottage like her own. She’d pictured knick-knacks and wellies by the door. In fact, Annabelle’s home was palatial. An enormous old rectory, set in acres of woodland. Through the kitchen window, Lilly had spotted an outdoor swimming pool and a tennis court beyond.

‘It’s a touch too big for my needs,’ said Annabelle.

Lilly nearly spat out her tea. There had to be at least eight
bedrooms
in a place this size. The triple garages outside could have housed a small family.

‘Is that why you foster?’ Lilly asked.

‘No,’ Annabelle said, but offered no further explanation.

They sipped tea in silence until Tanisha breezed in. She was barefoot, her toes painted the same gold as her fingers, and she was wearing earphones, listening to an iPod.

‘Can I get something to eat?’ She spoke too loudly.

Annabelle smiled and got up from the table. She opened an American-style fridge and pointed to a shelf of smoothies and yoghurts.

Tanisha wrinkled her nose so Annabelle gestured to a wooden bowl, overflowing with fresh fruit.

‘Can’t I have some crisps?’ Tanisha shouted.

Annabelle leaned forward and removed one of the ear plugs. ‘You need to take care of yourself.’

‘But I don’t like all that shit,’ said Tanisha.

‘You need to take care of the baby,’ said Annabelle, pressing a palm on Tanisha’s stomach.

Tanisha rolled her eyes but reached for an apple. ‘They’re hard to chew.’

‘Cut it up,’ Annabelle laughed.

Tanisha grabbed a knife from a block and hacked the apple into four pieces before replacing the ear plug and dancing out of the kitchen.

‘She’s a great kid,’ said Annabelle. ‘She’s had to cope with a lot of problems in her life.’

Lilly thought about the girl lying in the coma, and the look in Jack’s eye as he had turned off the video camera. She had a dreadful feeling that Tanisha’s problem’s were about to get a whole lot worse.

The thing about parents is that they don’t remember what it was like to be young.

They start sentences with the words, ‘when I was your age’, then go on about how really great they were.

‘When I was your age, I ate whatever was put in front of me.’

‘When I was your age, I wouldn’t have dared to argue with my father.’

They don’t have any idea about how things are today, and they certainly don’t ask.

Then again, maybe they do. Maybe other kids’ parents actually listen. Maybe they all sit and eat together (having taken the trouble to find out what their kids like) and chat.

But Jamie’s parents don’t do anything like that. They work. They read the Sunday papers. They go out to restaurants. If Jamie were ever to dare mention that he might have a problem, Dad would frown over his half-moon glasses.

‘What on earth can a chap of your age have to worry about? These are the best years of your life and don’t you forget it.’

Anyway, Jamie aims for minimum contact with his dad. Most of the time he’s at school, so it’s easy, but even during the
holidays
he stays in his room a lot of the time.

Mum’s better. Well a bit, anyway. She usually calls him on Friday mornings from the train. They don’t have much to say to one another, but it’s a habit neither of them can break.

The dorm is a pit as usual, with clothes spilled over the floor. Jamie rummages through the piles until he finds his trousers. They’re crumpled and dirty but he doesn’t care and pulls them on, dragging the waistband low on his hips. Then he reaches over to his bedside table, plunges his fingers into a pot of wax and pushes a handful through his fringe.

‘Waiting for Mummy to call?’ shouts Tristan from the bed next to Jamie’s. ‘So sweet.’

Jamie flips him the finger and pulls out his phone.

Rule one in boarding school is never, ever show your feelings. You will be teased mercilessly by your housemates, but if you express the tiniest of feelings, it will get worse.

He heads down to the dining room, grabs a tray and helps
himself
to bacon and toast. A lot of the kids here moan about the food, but Mum only ever opens packets from Marks and Spencer so Jamie hardly feels deprived.

A communal jug of orange juice is in the middle of a table. Jamie pours himself a glass and takes a seat at the furthest end of the hall. When the mobile rings he answers immediately and faces the wall. Phone calls are only allowed in the evenings after prep and if any of the masters catch him he’ll get a detention.

‘Jamie?’ Mum asks.

Honestly. Who else is she expecting?

‘Hi Mum.’

‘Is everything okay?’ she asks.

Jamie wonders what she’d do if he told her the truth.

‘I’m fine, Mum.’

He can hear the sound of train wheels on the track. The countryside whooshing by as Mum heads into London. He wishes it were him, escaping into the city.

‘Exeat this weekend,’ she says brightly. ‘Any plans?’

‘Ben is having a party on Friday night,’ Jamie says. ‘I told you last week.’

‘I remember now.’ Mum has clearly forgotten. ‘What time will you be back?’

‘I’ll probably stay over at his place,’ Jamie shrugs.

‘No rugby match on Saturday?’

Jamie sighs. He’s never been picked for the rugby team. Ever.

‘Have you got everything you need?’ Mum asks.

Jamie pats his back pocket. He has the only thing he needs.

‘Have fun,’ says Mum. ‘I expect you’ll be fighting off the girls.’

Jamie rolls his eyes and wonders how she can be so stupid.

‘Clever girl,’ Lilly smiled at the empty bottle Alice had just
polished
off.

‘Now let’s put you down here while Mummy gets ready for work.’

Lilly pressed the baby across her chest, patting her back in a soothing rhythm and moved slowly across the bedroom floor. She hummed softly, a song she remembered her own mother singing, and one Sam had always loved.

When she reached the cot, Alice stiffened, her fat little legs as rigid as metal poles and Lilly told herself to remain calm. Alice hated her cot and bedtimes were often dramatic affairs with the sort of screaming that would put any banshee to shame.

Every parenting manual in the bookshop sat in a pile by Lilly’s bed. There was nothing Gina Ford or Supernanny advised that Lilly hadn’t tried. Be firm. Keep lighting low. Sprinkle lavender oil on the sheets. None of it worked and as soon as Alice felt
herself
being lowered into her cot, she would crank up for action.

‘It’s not bedtime, sweetheart,’ Lilly sang out. ‘You just need to lie here while Mummy has something to eat and a shower.’

Lilly reached out with one hand to start the mobile toy attached to the side of the cot. It had been a present from Penny and had no doubt cost a fortune.

‘She can’t be held twenty-four hours a day,’ Penny had chided. ‘She needs to know who’s boss.’

Three pink bunnies began a gentle circle to the tune of ‘Oranges and Lemons’. Alice turned her neck to the tinkling sound and smiled.

While she was distracted, Lilly seized her chance and lay Alice down. Alice was mesmerized, seemingly unaware where she was. Lilly touched her cheek then silently began to back out of the room. When Alice let out a murmur, Lilly froze, but it was
nothing
more than appreciation for the music. Lilly could picture the look of satisfaction on Penny’s face when she told her.

Once out of the door and on the landing, Lilly breathed a sigh of relief and crept downstairs to grab a drink. Sam was in the kitchen, cleaning his rugby boots in the sink with a knife. He prised away each clod of earth around the stud and flicked it towards the plug hole. He watched Lilly open the fridge and take out the milk.

‘Aren’t you missing something?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ said Lilly. ‘A glass.’

‘A very small person with curly hair.’

Lilly poured herself a drink and took a sip. ‘Alice is lying quietly in her cot.’

Sam laughed. ‘Did you drug her?’

‘Very funny.’ Lilly poked out her tongue. ‘I simply told her who was boss.’

Sam snorted and went back to his boots.

‘Is Dad coming over for you?’ Lilly asked.

Sam nodded. On Friday mornings her ex-husband, David, would take Sam to school and collect him afterwards. They spent the night at his place, watching a movie, and on Saturday mornings they would go together to Sam’s school rugby matches. Lilly was certain that this arrangement didn’t please David’s
girlfriend
, Cara, but watching their son being pummelled into the mud by boys twice his size seemed to bring out the man in David, who had stood his ground.

On cue, the doorbell rang.

‘Get it quick before Alice hears,’ Lilly shrieked.

Sam held up his dirty hands like a surgeon waiting to be gloved. He looked around him as if in a strange place.

The doorbell went again so Lilly flung down her milk and raced to the door, vaulting the recycling. As she threw it open David’s finger was poised over the bell to try again.

‘No,’ Lilly hissed and batted his hand away.

‘Ouch,’ David complained.

‘Alice is in her cot,’ Lilly whispered, ‘and if you disturb her I’ll have to kill you.’

David gave her the same smile that had won her over all those years ago in university. She had thought him an arse. Another public-schoolboy with a sense of entitlement almost as big as his ambition. He’d made a joke about her accent in a Latin tutorial and she’d considered punching him. Then she caught the twinkle in his eye and couldn’t help laughing.

He followed her through the cottage. ‘Is Jack here?’

‘You know full well that Jack and I aren’t together.’

‘But he’s here a lot,’ David opened his arms, ‘and you do change your mind like a stripper’s knickers.’

The urge to punch him returned, but before Lilly could
connect
, David slipped past her and clapped Sam on the back.

‘We’re going to thrash Oak Hill tomorrow,’ he said.

‘We?’ Lilly asked. ‘I thought it was just Sam getting a pasting.’

David leant in to Sam and stage whispered. ‘Women will never understand the importance of sport, son.’

‘But we do understand the importance of staying alive,’ Lilly retorted.

Father and son stood side by side and sighed at her.

‘Why don’t you get your sleepover bag, Sam,’ she suggested, and flicked on the kettle. ‘Tea?’

‘Thanks.’ David smiled.

He accepted a cup and took an appreciative gulp.

‘Cara still got you on the wagon?’ Lilly asked.

David curled his top lip. He was regularly forced into his
girlfriend’s
latest health craze and had previously suffered a macrobiotic diet, daily skin brushing and Ashtanga yoga to name but three. Her latest fad was a ban on caffeine.

‘Apparently taking the pledge reduces your chance of cancer, heart disease and strokes,’ he said.

Lilly raised her glass of milk. ‘Here’s to living for ever.’

David groaned and drained his tea.

‘Before we leave I need to give you this,’ he pulled a letter from his pocket and handed it to Lilly.

She spotted Manor Park’s school crest on the headed note paper immediately and skimmed the first paragraph.

‘Don’t even go there.’ She held the letter between her thumb and forefinger as if it had been dropped in a puddle.

‘I went boarding when I was younger than Sam.’

‘And look how you turned out.’

David ignored the crack. ‘It would make perfect sense now you have Alice and the new office. It can’t be easy.’

Of course it wasn’t bloody easy. The house was a shambles, the office work was out of control and she didn’t even want to
consider
the new case she’d just taken on. But the solution did not lie in Sam living at school.

‘Is everything okay?’ Sam poked his head through the door.

‘Everything’s fine,’ said Lilly and helped herself to another glass of milk.

David held out his car keys. ‘Put your stuff in the boot, Sam, I’ll be out in a second.’

Sam took the keys and sloped away.

‘It’s only twenty minutes away,’ said David. ‘You could pop in any time to see him.’

‘I don’t want to make an appointment to see my own son,’ Lilly replied. ‘He needs to be here with me and Alice, like a normal family.’

At that moment Alice began to scream.

David looked up at the ceiling. ‘If you say so, Lil.’

Demi’s eyes blink open as she is ripped from sleep by the sudden removal of her quilt.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ asks Gran, her eyes sparkling like they’re filled with diamond dust.

Demi shudders in the sudden blast of cold air. ‘What time is it?’

‘Time you were up and ready for school.’

Demi squeezes her eyes shut, as if she can escape the onslaught, but Gran’s heavy footfall to the window and the swoosh of the curtains opening tell her Gran is in no mood for an argument.

‘I want to come with you to see Malaya,’ she tries.

Gran pushes out her lower lip. ‘No my girl, you will do your lessons and meet me at the hospital afterwards.’

Demi gropes for the duvet but Gran pushes it out of reach.