call, love.’
I frown, because who’d be ringing me at work?
When I pick up the phone my frown deepens because it’s the school.
CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR
‘Luke?’ I close my eyes when I get home and the phone is ringing. I hear his voice, I’m tired, I’m upset, it’s been a shit of a morning. I’ve just sat in the headmaster’s office listening to the names Charlotte’s called Felicity and I don’t know how I’m going to face Simone. I don’t want to deal with Luke today; I don’t want to, because I might break down, I might just beg him to come over.
I might.
I can’t.
We haven’t spoken in weeks.
Make that months.
Not since I slammed down the phone that time.
‘What do you want?
‘To speak to you.’ He sounds brusque, annoyed. ‘Are you aware that Charlotte’s having trouble at school?’
‘I know.’ Bloody Facebook – Luke must have seen it. ‘I've just come back from the headmaster, apparently Charlotte’s been cyber bullying.’
‘Bullshit,’ Luke says.
‘No, I've seen some of the conversations, one of the mum’s printed it off…’
‘What about the way those girls have been to her?’ He demands. ‘What did they have to say about that?’
‘What girls?’ I say. ‘It’s Charlotte that’s doing the bullying.’
‘Hasn't she told you?’ I can hear his angry breath and it’s starting to dawn on me that he’s not ringing me to find out if she’s in trouble, he’s ringing to tell me that she is. ‘Do you not see what goes on on there Lucy?’
‘She won’t let me.’
‘Then don't let her on it.’
He doesn't get it, he doesn't have kids and it shows, but I know that he’s right too - I used to be so much more careful with it, I used to hover over her shoulder. She used to tell me what was happening, who she was talking to, what was going on.
‘What’s going on?’ I’m embarrassed that I have to ask Luke what's going on with my own daughter.
‘It’s Charlotte that’s being bullied.’
‘How would you know?’ I bristle.
‘Because I'm her friend on Facebook,’ Luke says. ‘I try not to interfere and to stay back because I know that if I say anything she's just going to unfriend me. I'd rather know and not like it, than not know at all. I know you’ve taken Jess’s side and I get that – I understand that you two are friends. Charlotte is my goddaughter though, and I'm not going to step back when I can see she's hurting.’
‘I’m trying to get on her page,’ I tell Luke – I’ve been sitting on the computer since I got home. ‘I've tried every password I could think she might use.’
‘There’s nothing up there,’ Luke says. ‘They take it down straight away, or Charlotte deletes it.’
‘So what things do they say?’
There’s the longest pause. ‘I’m on my way.’
It takes forty minutes for him to get here. I know then how much I've changed, because the old me would have rushed up to the bathroom to sort out my hair and make up, would've done a quick tidy of my already immaculate house. Instead I spend another frantic forty minutes trying to log onto Charlotte’s Facebook and going through her room, it's only when Luke arrives that I become conscious of how I look.
I know I look a mess, and I'm conscious too of the state of the house, all the breakfast things are still over the benches and there are coffee cups and magazines everywhere. Things aren’t sliding again I want to tell him, that was because I had another row with Charlotte, that’s why the house looks like a before shot.
Except it's after.
He's not looking so hot either – he hasn't shaved this morning and his shirt’s a bit crumpled. I guess living alone, or living the bachelor life is taking its toll, or perhaps just some getting used to.
‘Make a drink,’ Luke says and I remember that I haven't had one since breakfast. ‘Then we'll talk.’
He's actually very calming, in that he doesn't dash to the computer, or blurt out what's happening. I make a drink but when I walk in the living room I can see his face is serious, really serious.
I know this isn’t good.
‘There's a girl, Felicity,’ Luke starts. ‘She posted a couple of things on Charlotte’s wall - I can't even remember what they were, but they weren’t nice - they weren’t outright horrible but a few people liked them.’ He looks at me. ‘You do know what like is?’
‘Sort of,’ I lie.
So I'm given