She hasn’t brought milk separately. I only take the smallest splash in a cup (Earl Grey, preferably) brewed very strong. I stare a little queasily at the beige liquid in the chipped mug.
‘She calls it that because we once joked its hair was like our Dave’s,’ says Kerry now, jutting her chin at the ragged headed toy I’m pretending to admire. As if I’m meant to know who ‘Our Dave’ is without explanation.
‘Oh,’ I say with a polite smile. I can’t think of a suitable response and force myself to sip the tea. I think I may have grimaced involuntarily because, when I meet Kerry’s eye, she is looking at me with an expression of disapproval.
She takes a savage sip of her own tea and then bangs it down with a heavy sigh before fumbling in the pocket of her sweatshirt.
‘Hey, Amb. Go play in your room while Mummy has a cig.’
The little girl gets up and obediently carries the toys towards the small hallway. Honestly! Surely the adult should smoke outside! But I bite my tongue.
Kerry lights up and I force myself not to waft the sickly smell away with my hand.
‘Come on then,’ she says, blowing out a thin stream of smoke and closing one eye. Her accent makes me think of Coronation Street, pies, and fog. ‘Tell me the worst.’
‘Well …’ Being in control for once tastes cool and sweet on my tongue, like melting ice cream. ‘I happen to know that your chap stayed the night at her house. And that they were, I’m sorry dear, but they were, well … intimate.’
Kerry’s face folds inwards. ‘I knew it. Fucking bastard!’ she says. ‘Where’d he go then? After?’ She blinks hard, several times and I can see she is struggling not to cry in front of me. A shiver of sympathy passes through me, despite it all.
‘That I don’t know,’ I say and clear my throat. ‘Maybe you should go and see her again. Really have it out with her and clear the air? After that you can try and move on. For Amber’s sake?’
I think this is rather a good little speech, if I say so myself, so it’s a surprise when Kerry barks a bitter, contemptuous laugh.
‘Oh yeah?’ she says. ‘You do, do you, Mrs Helpful? You have no fucking idea.’
I don’t see any reason for her to be so rude when I am trying to help. ‘No idea about what?’
‘What it’s like!’ she says, ‘Living in this shithole. He told me he had something on that was going to change everything for us. We had big plans.’ Her voice skids at the end of the sentence and she swipes furiously at her face, as though trying to push away the weakness.
Amber saves me from finding something to say by bustling back into the room.
‘Mummy finish ciggie,’ she says and Kerry, to my surprise, stubs it out.
She is probably much younger than she looks, and I try to picture her at Tilly’s age. Did she have the dreams of any young person? Or had her upbringing prepared her for a different, more mundane life?
‘I come visit Bertie,’ says Amber, pressing her hot, compact body up against my left side and staring at me intently. I turn my face to look at her mother, and Amber grasps my chin and directs my eyes back to her own. It’s impossible not to laugh at this sweet, bossy gesture.
‘Who’s this Bertie, then?’ says Kerry, obviously trying to force a friendlier tone into her voice.
‘He’s my little dog,’ I say. ‘Amber played with him through the fence.’
‘Ah, right,’ says Kerry, ‘she’s mad about her nanna’s dog. And she told you the address too, right? She does that. I keep telling her.’
‘Yes,’ I smile kindly and then give Amber my attention once again.
‘You can come anytime you like,’ I say.
‘Come today,’ says Amber. ‘Come see Bertie now.’
I laugh, surprised, and Kerry gives an impatient shake of her head.
‘Amb, leave it,’ she says. ‘The lady’s too busy.’
I pause. ‘Actually, I’m not really busy. I’d be very happy to look after Amber for a few hours to give you a break.’
Kerry tuts. ‘I don’t even know you!’ But her voice betrays weakness.
I nod, trying not to let my excitement show. ‘That’s true. But I worked in a nursery for many years and I still have an up-to-date CRB certificate.’
This last part is a slight exaggeration. I don’t even think they call them that now. But maybe I can help to make things right for this little girl. ‘You know where I live. And you look to me like someone who deserves a bit of a break, if you don’t mind me saying.’
Have I gone too far?
But Kerry, fraught and exhausted as she clearly is, hesitates just long enough to leave a crack of doubt.
‘Pleeeeeeease, Mummy!’ whines Amber, almost shouting now and tugging on her mother’s sweatshirt so it gapes at the shoulder and reveals a grubby grey bra strap. ‘Let me go see Bertie!’
And so it is that, ten minutes later, I am escorting the little girl and her ‘cuddly’ down the dark stairwell and into the light.
MELISSA
‘You don’t invite just anyone into the house! What’s wrong with you?’
Melissa’s raised voice echoes around the kitchen. Tilly stares at her with a shocked, dropped bottom lip. Melissa is aware her daughter is a bit scared of her mad mother but is unable to stop.
‘But she knows Jamie,’ says Tilly, her voice wobbling. ‘And she has a little girl. What harm could it do, letting them come in? Mum!’
Melissa starts to bang and clatter mugs and milk jugs at the sink and when one of the fine china mugs cracks, cutting the meat of her palm, she throws it into the sink viciously so it smashes. She bursts into tears.
Tilly comes over and awkwardly puts an arm around her mother’s heaving shoulders. ‘What is it? What’s wrong? Why are you so upset?’
Melissa cries a little harder. An image comes into her head so seductive she almost gives into it.
She pictures herself turning to her daughter and telling her everything.
All of it. Sex with Jamie. Disposing of the body. The madness of Hester. All of it. And Tilly would say, ‘No, really? It’s not your fault. Any of it. I love you, Mum. It will be okay,’ as though it is no big deal, disposing of a man’s body in a river.
As her tears subside, Tilly hands her a piece of kitchen towel for her cut hand and she is at last able to speak.
‘I’m sorry, sweetie,’ she says thickly. ‘It’s just that him turning up here brought up a lot of bad memories for me. You know I didn’t have a childhood like yours. I didn’t want to see him and I was really glad when I got—’ She was about to say ‘got rid of him’ and panic flares. ‘When he went away again. I just wish he’d never come here.’
Tilly pats her arm in a clumsy, well-meaning attempt at comfort. ‘It’s okay, Mum, I understand,’ she says, although it is clear to Melissa that she doesn’t, not at all. And how could she?
Melissa blows her nose loudly and manages a watery smile. ‘Why don’t you go and watch some telly,’ she says. ‘I’d like to get on with cooking.’
‘Okay,’ says Tilly with clear relief. ‘Er, Mum?’
Melissa turns to her, distracted.
‘I promise I’m not seeing Nathan,’ says Tilly hurriedly. ‘But I really need to get something off Chloe. Can I go if I promise to be back for dinner?’
Melissa nods wearily. She doesn’t care anymore.
Tilly starts to leave the room before Melissa calls her back.
‘Oh and Tils?’
She turns to face her mother, a question on her face.
‘Can we not mention any of this to your dad? I just want this evening to be a special family time.’
Tilly frowns doubtfully but nods. Melissa hears the front door closing a few minutes later.
She begins to collect the broken pieces of china and put them into a carrier bag. Her chest feels tight and her head has begun to throb. The lighter feeling she’d had while food shopping earlier feels impossible to recapture now. How can she have been so naive to think this was over? That there were no consequences?
Her mind throbs with questions. Was Hester trying to frighten her with the things she said? What does she mean about it not being over? Has Jamie’s body turned up?