The Woman Next Door

I reach for Amber and pull her toward me. She doesn’t resist and leans her dense, warm weight against my hip. I stand tall, protecting her.

‘What on earth are you doing here?’ I say. I have never wanted to see someone less and distaste curdles in my mouth. ‘This is none of your business. Go away and leave us alone.’

A blonde-haired family dressed in wetsuits pulled to their hips comes into view and regard us warily as they pass. The mother has a pink bikini top on and the father and son are bare-chested and tanned. The teenage boy is all gangly limbs and glasses. Their curiosity is almost palpable and I have to glare until they look away. Melissa seems oblivious and starts shouting.

‘You can’t just snatch her!’ she cries. ‘The police are probably looking for you; don’t you understand what you’ve done?’

I glance in alarm at the family, who are hurrying away, heads bowed in towards each other in furtive conversation.

We have to get away from this witch who has brought me only pain.

‘Come on, Amber,’ I say and take her hand, pulling her with me. Bertie, frustratingly, has stopped to do a wee and I have to yank his lead to get him to move.

But Melissa won’t be shaken off so easily.

‘Hester!’ she shouts. ‘Haven’t we done enough? Don’t you think we need to put things right now?’

Anger rises like mercury then and I let go of Amber, marching back to Melissa. I thrust my face towards hers. Because I am lower on the incline, I feel even smaller in size than usual but my frustration and fury are a mighty thing and I see something nervous flash, gratifyingly, in her eyes.

‘That’s what I’m doing!’ I hiss. I don’t even care that a little drop of spit hits her face. She doesn’t seem to notice. ‘You can just let it go, Melissa!’ I say and wave my hand like a magician producing a dove from a handkerchief. ‘Poof! There! All your guilt is absolved! It was all me! I did it! I was the one! Now will you leave us alone? And anyway, that’s what I’m doing, can’t you see? Making it right?’

Melissa’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. I’ve never seen her look less appealing than she does now, and I realize I don’t even hate her anymore. She is nothing to me at all.

‘What do you mean?’ she whispers. Her skin looks wan and almost greenish in this odd light.

Reaching up on my tiptoes, I whisper into her ear. Her hair tickles my face and it feels unpleasant and smells dirty.

‘I killed him,’ I say. ‘Not you! So why don’t you leave us alone and get on with your life!’

She makes a sound that is neither a gasp nor a groan but something in-between. Her hands fly to her cheeks and tears begin to squeeze out over her lids and run down her pale, bony cheeks.

‘You’re a fucking monster,’ she whispers but then her attention is snagged by something beyond me. She yells, ‘No!’ and shoves me out of the way.

I turn to see Bertie’s tail disappear through a gap in the fence that leads to the open cliff. And then Amber, moving faster than I have ever seen, is squeezing through after him.





MELISSA


‘Amber!’ she shrieks, ‘Come back! It’s dangerous! Oh fuck, please! Amber!’

She is on her hands and knees, body half through the hole. The cliff surface comprises clumps of vegetation, knotted and dense as chainmail, but with clear patches that show sky and the deadly drop below. The dog is standing on a sandy outcrop, whining, paws scrabbling for purchase. Melissa can see a fine grain of sand falling below his feet.

Amber has become lodged on one of the twisted thickets, her hands bunched into the thorny mass. A thin line of blood runs down her wrist and she is making a terrible moaning sound, guttural and raw.

Hester screams; immobilized, it seems. She has been reduced to something useless.

‘Oh fuck!’

Melissa knows that if she puts too much weight onto the area above Amber, she could cause more sand to fall and it might frighten her enough to let go. She carefully pulls her body through the gap, thorns tearing at her hands, until she is belly down on the ground, feet higher than her head. If she reaches out a hand she can just touch Amber, but the little girl has gone to a place of terror and won’t be able to follow instructions; she knows this.

‘Amber, sweetie,’ she says, and the effort of trying to sound gentle is immense. ‘You’re going to be okay, but I need you to reach back and take my hand, okay?’

There is no response at first and then Amber murmurs a small sound. Melissa realizes she is saying, ‘Help Bertie.’

‘Bertie is going to be fine!’ She sounds hysterical and can’t do anything about it. ‘But there isn’t room for everyone here so we must get you first, okay? Okay, Amber? Shit!’

Tears break through and she lets them run down her cheeks and into her mouth. She is scared to move her hand but knows she must.

Hester is still wailing, saying something over and over again that Melissa can’t make out. Melissa wants to hit her. Make her shut up.

‘Amber, sweetheart, your mummy really needs you right now. We have to make sure you get back home to Mummy today. Do you understand?’

The little girl doesn’t respond but there is a stillness as though she is finally listening.

‘Come on,’ says Melissa, encouraged enough to inject some fake control into her trembling voice. ‘Just reach out and take my hand and then we can worry about getting Bertie out. Come on … Amber? Please sweetie?’

The little girl moves with agonizing slowness and, at last, turns a little, holding out her small pale hand. Melissa grabs it, but in her relief she snatches too hard and frightens her. Amber wails and tries to pull back. Sand and stones dislodge beneath her as they engage in a tug of war. And then Melissa has her in both hands and is pulling her back through the hole.

It’s only then that she notices the ledge holding the dog has entirely disappeared.





HESTER


When Melissa comes back through the hole with Amber, I experience a moment of pure, sweet relief. Then I see her face and understand what has happened.

I can’t control my weeping as I try to claw through the hole after him, but strong hands pull me back and then a male voice says, ‘Come on, love, it’s all right, it’s all right!’

Through the mist of my tears I see a tall blond-haired man, a policeman, is holding me and there are other people standing around. A couple of gawkers watch from up the path, and another policeman is approaching us at speed. Through the trees above I can just see the yellow and blue squares of a panda car parked on the road.

‘It’s my dog!’ I cry. ‘Please help him!’

Melissa grips Amber, whose face is turned towards her. Melissa’s eyes are cold and I can’t bear to look at them.

It all comes rushing in. That Jamie man. Taking Amber. And poor Bertie …

Am I being paid back? I sink to the grass verge, not caring how damp and scratchy it is through my skirt, and I cry and cry, wishing I could turn the clock back and make it all right. My poor little Bertie is to pay the price for the acts I have committed.

And just as I feel that my chest is breaking in pieces with grief, the blond policeman is suddenly in my line of vision and he’s holding …

‘Oh thank God!’

I grasp Bertie to me and he wriggles, claws scratching my chest but I don’t care. He’s shaking violently, covered in sandy mud. But he’s alive.

‘He’d just fallen down to the next outcrop below,’ says the policeman and he looks pleased, but I suddenly wonder why he appeared so conveniently. And then I remember the family who passed us and heard us fighting. Who heard Melissa say I had snatched Amber.

My joy at having Bertie back turns into a cold realization. And a weary acceptance. Terry was right. I do bring things on myself. I nearly caused Amber to be hurt and Bertie too.

I’m not a good woman. I’ve messed it all up. I’ve done some terrible things and the time has come to let it all go.

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