Never Close Your Eyes (11 page)

‘G'night, Derek, love you,' she said, rolling on to her side. He was the young man she'd been engaged to once. He'd let her down badly, though. Left her heartbroken. But they'd become close again since he'd crossed over.

‘Goodnight, Mother, goodnight, Father,' she whispered. She never went to sleep without wishing them sweet dreams, too.

She thought of Evie Freestone, pretty, blonde Evie Freestone. She had a lot to cope with. Well, she wasn't alone. Lots of people had heavy burdens to bear. Zelda had done the business: she'd warned her of the dangers. But she couldn't go on about them, could she? You weren't allowed to dwell on bad things with clients. And quite right too.

Her boss had been very firm about it. It was against the rules.

Chapter Ten

Zelda was five and had just started school when she realised that she was different from other little girls. She remembered making the discovery as clearly as if it were yesterday.

The teacher, Miss Addison, was at the front of the class telling them about how plants grew. Miss Addison had short, yellow, curly hair and glasses. She seemed very old, though she was probably only about twenty-five. Zelda liked her.

Miss Addison had asked some of the children to help her put three broad-bean seeds in plastic see-through cups with a little water.

‘Now,' she said, ‘we're going to put one of the cups in the stationery cupboard, one on my desk and one on the windowsill. Which bean do you think will grow the fastest?'

Several children put their hands up, but not Zelda. She was too busy staring at the little boy sitting cross-legged on Miss Addison's desk. He was wearing funny clothes: brown lace-up shoes, grey shorts, long grey socks, a white shirt and a navy-blue striped tie. He had a cap, too, but he wasn't wearing it. He'd taken it off and put it on the desk with his navy-blue jacket.

His fair hair was very short and he had freckles on his nose. He was being naughty, putting on a silly voice and imitating Miss Addison, pretending to be her. Zelda tried not to laugh because she knew she wasn't allowed to. She glanced at the other children, who were watching Miss Addison, their faces completely serious. She wondered how they managed to concentrate.

The little boy jumped up and stood on the desk, waving his arms around. He really was very bad. Zelda was surprised that Miss Addison didn't send him out.

‘Let's see if you're right,' Miss Addison said. ‘Mary, will you please put this cup in the cupboard? And, Jessie, you can put this one on the windowsill.'

The girls got up obediently.

Zelda tried not to look, but the little boy suddenly turned around to face the blackboard and did something really rude: he wiggled his bottom at the whole class and they didn't even seem to notice. She giggled; she couldn't help it. Then he spun round again, put his pinkies in his cheeks and pulled, giving himself a funny mouth. That made her laugh out loud. He looked like a clown.

‘What is it, Griselda? Would you like to share what's so funny with the rest of the class?' Miss Addison seemed really annoyed.

‘Sorry, miss,' Zelda said. ‘It's just that boy sitting on your desk.' She stood up and pointed. She thought she was being helpful. ‘He's making funny faces at me.'

Miss Addison frowned. ‘There's no boy on my desk; don't be silly. Now, will you please sit down, open your book and pay attention like everyone else.'

The little boy jumped on to the floor now and stood behind Miss Addison, waving. Zelda couldn't understand why Miss Addison was pretending that he wasn't there.

‘He's behind you, waving his arms about,' she blurted.

The other children started to laugh.

‘He's got grey shorts on and a white shirt and a blue hat with a gold—'

Miss Addison stared. ‘What did you say?'

‘It's a hat, miss, with gold on it. And he's got really short hair. I think it's your brother, the one you told us about.'

Miss Addison went a bit weird after that. She walked over to Zelda's desk and pulled her up by the arm – quite hard. ‘Come with me.'

Zelda didn't like the tone in her voice and started to cry. Why was Miss Addison cross? Zelda thought Miss Addison liked her brother. She'd told them lots of stuff about him, how they used to go tadpoling and things.

Miss Addison closed the classroom door behind them and immediately the children inside started laughing and shouting. Zelda wished she was in there with them. Outside in the corridor Miss Addison bent down, put her face right up close to Zelda's and hissed: ‘If this is your idea of a joke, young lady, it's not funny. You should never make jokes about the dead. It's very, very bad. You're a very naughty little girl.'

Miss Addison's face was scary. Zelda had never seen her like that. Normally she was smiley and kind. Zelda wanted to go home. She wanted Carol.

Miss Addison took her to see Miss Perry, the headteacher, and she was angry, too. She told Zelda that she'd hurt Miss Addison's feelings. Zelda wept and wept. She liked Miss Addison, she never wanted to upset her. But how was she to know that Miss Addison's brother was dead? Zelda didn't remember her saying so.

She didn't really understand what dead meant anyway; she thought it was like sleeping, only you didn't wake up. Well, the little boy seemed very much awake to her. Why was Miss Addison lying? Grown-ups weren't supposed to lie. It was very confusing.

After that, she learned to be more careful. She often saw strange people about. One minute they were there, the next they weren't, but she didn't tell. Sometimes they spoke to her, sometimes they didn't. Mostly she wasn't scared, but occasionally they did nasty things like jump out and frighten her. But she kept her mouth shut because people might get cross, like Miss Addison and Miss Perry.

The only one she did tell was Carol. She didn't get angry, but she didn't want to hear about it much either. When they were in bed, Zelda would sometimes whisper across the room: ‘Aunty Vi says hello,' or, ‘Scruffy wants to give you a lick.' Scruffy was their cocker spaniel who died when Zelda was four. Mother said they couldn't have another dog.

‘There's no one there,' Carol would whisper. She was three years older than Zelda.

‘There is, really there is,' Zelda would reply. Occasionally she'd get upset and start crying. Then Carol would climb in her bed and give her a cuddle and make her feel better.

‘There there,' she'd say, stroking her little sister's dark hair. ‘Never mind. I believe you. But don't tell anyone. Don't tell Mother or Father, OK?'

‘OK,' Zelda repeated.

Zelda and Carol were dead scared of Mother and Father. He used to be a bank manager but Zelda could only vaguely remember him going into London in his suit in the mornings. They lived in Teddington then, in a little house near the river with an apple tree in the garden that she and Carol used to climb. Zelda could only have been three or four when they left, but she could still picture the apple tree.

Something happened with the bank, Zelda never did know what. She knew it was bad, though, and she wasn't allowed to talk about it with anyone, Mother said. The next thing, they were moving to Harrow, to a poky flat on an estate so Father could be near his job at RAF Northolt.

He'd been in the RAF before when he was a young man. He was a pilot officer, he told them. He went back to the same job – pilot officer – but this time looking after accounts. Zelda guessed he didn't really like it much; he was always bad-tempered when he got home. But he was lucky to have a job at all. Mother said that sometimes in a gloomy sort of way.

He didn't like children. She and Carol used to annoy him. If they didn't do well in a school test or something he'd get out his belt, put them over his knee, pull down their knickers and beat them.

Mother didn't like them much, either. She was always picking on them: ‘Tidy your room,' she'd say, even though they'd just tidied it. ‘Pick up your shoes, dry the dishes, stop making a noise.' She was always finding something wrong.

Zelda thought she probably hated living on the estate and hated the other women, too. She used to sniff and say they were common. Zelda and Carol weren't allowed to play with the other children on the green outside. They had to stay inside, doing their homework or helping with the chores. It was a good job they had each other or they'd have been really miserable.

Zelda sighed. Mother was sitting right beside her on the bed now, nudging her in the ribs. She wouldn't let her go to sleep.

‘Carol's all right,' Zelda said. ‘She knows you're sorry.'

‘I thought it was for the best,' Mother said for the umpteenth time. ‘She was only sixteen. How could she have looked after a baby?'

‘We all could have helped, I suppose,' Zelda replied. She brought her knees up to her chest. Hunched up in a little ball.

‘You mean your father and I could have? You were only thirteen, you wouldn't have been able to do much.'

‘I would when I got in from school,' Zelda protested.

‘Besides,' said Mother, ‘think about the neighbours. Things were different in those days, remember. There was a lot of shame.'

Zelda thought of Carol in her little house. Zelda never saw the baby before it was taken away, she wasn't allowed to. She put a corner of sheet into her mouth and sucked on it.

‘Don't do that,' Mother said crossly. Zelda took it out again.

‘And you need to give this room a good clean,' Mother went on. ‘It's disgusting. I didn't bring you up to live in a disgusting room like this.'

Zelda's brain ached. She guessed Mother would be at it for hours. She was in one of those moods. There was no point trying to argue back, it would only make her worse. She turned over and tried to think about her walk earlier, the ducks and Canada geese. She tried to think about which way round the pond she'd go tomorrow. Maybe she'd pop over to the café in the morning and have one of their nice, frothy coffees.

She pictured Derek's face. His brown moustache, his crisp white shirt with the spotless cuffs. Funny how he always looked so young, just as he was when she knew him. He wasn't here tonight. Probably off somewhere having fun with his mates. He was a bit of a lad, that Derek, always had been.

She scrunched her hands into a tight fist and dropped off at last, with the sound of her mother's voice droning in her ears.

Chapter Eleven

‘Shall we meet for a drink after work sometime? It'd be good to catch up after all these years.'

Becca swallowed. It was so tempting. Gary looked lovely in his Facebook picture. Kind, friendly, even if he was thinning on top. Cute snaps of his kids, too.

She realised that she was greedy for information, for any scraps he could give her. He'd opened the lid and unleashed a swarm of emotions. She didn't know if she'd be able to put the lid back on.

He worked for a human rights charity. That fitted. She remembered that he was always a bit different, sensitive, even at the age of twelve or thirteen. Not like other boys. Suppose he told his wife, though, or his friends? Once out, information had a habit of leaking all over the place no matter how careful you tried to be.

She read on. ‘You look great in your profile picture.' It was an email. She'd told him not to write on Facebook any more. Too risky.

‘Very different, though,' he continued. ‘I recognised you by your nose, believe it or not. You always had a cute little upturned nose. I've often wondered what happened to you. I'm glad things have worked out for you.'

Becca decided not to reply. She ate the last bite of the salade Niçoise wrap that her PA had brought her and took a swig of English Breakfast tea. She glanced out of the window. It was still pouring with rain and there was no point having her usual stroll around the block before getting back to business.