Deep Wate - Sarah Epstein Page 0,44

her favourite. That’s what had made it so satisfying when it shattered into a billion pieces against the wall. He’d disposed of the little plate stand by tossing it into a garbage bin at the workshop, then spread out the other plates to fill the gap. His mother never noticed when there was no food in the house to feed her children, but you’d better believe she’d miss one of those precious plates.

‘Where is it?’ she asked, jerking her head at the open cabinet, the plates all propped there like targets. Mason had never wanted a slingshot more in his life.

It was time to confess. He’d say he bumped the cabinet when he was sweeping or something. She’d make him feel like crap for a few weeks and put her hand out for money to purchase a replacement. And then it would be over. Mostly. Apart from all the times she’d bring it up again to remind him how useless he was.

Henry shifted in his chair. ‘You did it,’ he said. Mason shot him a look, expecting his brother to be pointing him out like a criminal in a line-up. To his shock, Henry was staring up at their mother. ‘You broke it one night when you came home … tired.’

Mason’s eyes flicked to Ivy and her expression was impassive. He saw the ripple of fury beneath the surface, though.

‘Don’t you remember?’ Henry said. ‘We helped you clean it up and you said you’d get a new one from eBay.’

This was miraculous. For once in his life Henry was stepping up and helping Mason out. Had he seen Mason carry the plate outside that night? Or had he simply guessed Mason was responsible? Mason couldn’t shake the feeling Henry was relieved about this diversion. He seemed to have his own agenda, but Mason couldn’t figure out what it was.

Ivy levelled her stare at both of them. ‘Where’s the plate stand?’

‘T-the what?’ Henry said. He peeked at Mason. ‘Uh, it’s—’

‘You threw it away as well,’ Mason cut in. ‘Accidentally.’

His mother narrowed her eyes. ‘Really.’ Her expression was one of utter loathing.

Mason could sense something was about to happen. It was the same feeling he got when he felt the rage building within himself. It was like a starving creature prowling around the room, sensing weakness and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Whatever his mother was going to do, it would be quick and brutal. She backed away from the table and Mason gripped the seat of his chair, bracing himself.

Ivy carefully closed the two glass doors of the cabinet, then turned and walked across the kitchen. She paused at the fridge, reaching her hand between the fridge and the wall where they kept the broom. Henry stiffened, his eyes almost comically wide.

‘You two are bad liars,’ she said, gripping the broom in her right hand.

Wanna bet? Mason thought. He was so good at lying it was scary.

Henry slid off his chair, taking tentative steps backwards into the corner. ‘It w-wasn’t us.’

Their mother turned her back on them and walked out into the hallway.

‘What …?’ Henry said, glancing at Mason. They remained frozen, waiting for what might come next.

A loud crash in another room. Mason jumped to his feet, trying to identify the source. Another bang, followed by the dull thud of objects falling onto the floor. A door flung open against the wall. The scrape of coathangers. Mason exchanged a baffled look with Henry before taking off across the kitchen. She was in his room. And it sounded like she was tearing it apart.

He stopped short of the bedroom doorway, Henry close at his heels, and heard his brother’s shocked gasp at the scene in front of them. Ivy had upended the mattress and yanked half of Mason’s clothes from the wardrobe. The contents of his schoolbag were all over the floor, and the middle drawer had been removed from his chest of drawers and tossed aside. Mason was relieved to see his lower desk drawer was still intact. A blue envelope of cash was taped to the underside.

‘It’s okay to break my stuff, is it?’ their mother growled, gripping the broom in both hands. She swung it towards the bedside table, collecting the antique table lamp that had belonged to Mason’s dead grandparents. It flew sideways at the wall, leaving a dent in the wood panelling. The heavy ceramic base somehow held together as it thumped onto the carpet, bending the lampshade at a funny angle. ‘Then it’s