The Mistress - Jill Childs Page 0,63

a fresh start? Well, I think I’m ready.’

‘You’re really leaving?’ She gaped.

I nodded, lowered my eyes to the table.

‘But… why so soon?’ She looked as if she were struggling to understand the enormity of what I’d just said. ‘What’s the rush? Why not give it another six months, Helen, and then see how you feel?’

I shook my head. ‘I’ve found a couple of places near Bristol that might work. Renting, to start off with. Until I get to know the area.’ I paused. ‘I’ve got to get a move on if I’m going to get Anna into a new school for September.’

‘I see.’ Her voice was tight.

Snorts of laughter erupted from the sitting room. We both turned to look. The girls’ heads were almost touching, side by side in front of the television.

‘Does Anna know?’

I shook my head. ‘Not yet.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’

I took a deep breath. ‘I know it’ll be a pain, finding childcare and everything. Especially with Megan leaving home too. But you could ask around. There might be another mum—’

She lifted a hand and interrupted me. ‘It’s not that. Well, it is. But we’ll miss you. Clara adores Anna, you know that.’

‘I know.’ I slid my eyes away from hers.

‘Are you sure, Helen? It’s a big decision.’

I focussed on my hands, folded neatly on the top of the kitchen table. ‘I know. But I can’t stand it here. Not now. I can’t stand all the sideways looks. The gossip.’

‘Right,’ she said. ‘Sounds as if you’ve made up your mind.’

‘Don’t be like that.’

‘I’m not being like anything.’

I shook my head. ‘I want a clean sheet. New school. New place.’

The tinny cartoon voices filled the silence between us.

‘So, you’ve put the house on the market.’ Her voice was cool.

‘It’s on a few websites, yes.’

She nodded, taking this in. ‘It might take a while, even so.’

‘I know.’ I paused. ‘That’s another reason we’ll just rent to start with.’

She raised her eyebrows at me. ‘With what?’

‘We’ll get by. I’ve got savings. And there’s Ralph’s life insurance. Not just yet but, you know, eventually.’

‘Well!’ She got to her feet abruptly and turned her back to me, washing up her mug in the sink.

‘I know it’s a shock, Bea. I’m sorry.’

Her shoulders were hard. She didn’t answer.

‘I’m just sorry for the girls,’ she said finally as she gathered up her things to go. ‘Clara will be so upset.’

‘I know.’ I put a hand on her arm. ‘Anna, too.’

She didn’t answer but her jaw was set as she headed through to the sitting room to prise Clara away and take her home.

Anna and I stood at the window and waved as they set off down the path and headed towards Bea’s car. Clara and Anna blew each other kisses and mouthed some silly joke of their own.

Bea didn’t look back. I didn’t blame her. As we turned back into the house, I felt suddenly wracked with guilt.

Bea was my best friend here. I hated having to lie.

Forty-Two

The house was different without Ralph. It sounded different, especially once Anna fell asleep. A new silence pressed down on me, wherever I sat, in the kitchen, in the sitting room. The fabric of the house, the furniture, emitted creaks and groans I’d never heard before. Sighs.

I had too much time to sit alone in the stillness and worry. Mostly, I worried about Anna.

I thought about the way she and Clara had played vets, taking it in turns to wear the white coat and place the stethoscope on a soft toy’s fluffy stomach. On the surface, she seemed fine. Almost too fine.

I didn’t want to distress her by making her talk about her father all the time, but it felt strange for us to be carrying on together as if nothing had happened, as if he’d just stepped out one day and we’d barely noticed that he’d never come home again.

In the first days after the accident, I told Anna a half-truth. I sat her on my knee and threaded my arms around her and told her that Daddy had gone away for a while.

She frowned. ‘Where?’

‘We’re not sure. Everyone’s looking for him. Looking really hard.’

‘Did he go in an aeroplane?’

I swallowed. ‘He went for a walk, I think, sweetheart.’

She put her head on one side and considered this. ‘When he comes back, will he bring me a present?’

I blinked, trying to think what to say.

‘I’d like a puppy.’

I reached for my difficult conversation voice, slow and careful.

‘If you miss Daddy, it’s all right to tell