here replaying her actions in her head, she’s not sure about exactly what she did, or in what order.
They went to the play area, she’s pretty sure of that. She took Mabel out of the buggy and sat on the swing with her on her lap, kicking off with her heel and gently swaying back and forth. Another mum was hovering impatiently with her three-year-old, expecting Ruby to get off immediately. If somebody was following them at the time, maybe the woman noticed. Ruby certainly didn’t, but she’d had no reason to be suspicious.
Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. There’s a kerfuffle in the hallway, and a guy with a headset rushes up to them.
‘Excuse me. Can you stand somewhere else – like over there?’ He points to the privet hedge on the other side of the safe area. ‘We need a clean shot of the babysitter leaving the house.’
Don’t make me stand there, she thinks. They’ll eat me alive.
‘Yeah, sure,’ says Lewis, pulling at her to move. ‘But that’s too close to the crowds. Ruby needs protecting. She’s the significant witness,’ he adds importantly.
‘Yeah, I know … Okay, you can stand behind the van as long as you keep well back.’
They go through the front gate and take up their new hiding place. Another five minutes pass, then the camera operator takes up position in front of the door. It opens and a young man backs the buggy out, turns it around, then backs it in again. The door closes. A few moments later, he comes out again, pushing the buggy forward this time, which according to Ruby is correct. The camera operator declares herself happy and he’s sent back inside. The rehearsal is over. It looks like they’re about to start for real.
‘Okay, here we go,’ whispers Ruby as action is called and the door opens yet again.
This time, a distorted vision of herself emerges with Mabel’s buggy, which now has a large doll strapped into it.
Ruby’s mouth dries. It’s like she’s starring in her own dream, watching herself from a distance while being simultaneously aware that this figure isn’t her at all. She realises that the woolly hat with its bright orange bobble looks stupid on a grown-up, and that the jacket has definitely seen better days. It came from a charity shop in the first place and has been abused ever since – worn in all weathers, stained with carelessly eaten meals, laid on muddy grass, squashed under bar stools, crumpled into makeshift pillows and cushions and never once washed. As she watches herself trundle the bright red buggy across the road, she thinks what an incongruous sight she makes – the pusher so worn and scruffy and the buggy so new and smart. That childish hat and that tatty jacket have become the costume for the worst moment in her life. She will never wear either again. After the reconstruction, she’s going to throw them both away.
‘Do you want to follow?’ Lewis asks as ‘Ruby’ and the buggy pass through the park gates and head off in the direction of the play area.
‘No way.’ She shudders. ‘I’ll stay here. If they’ve got any questions, they can send someone running back.’
‘Fair enough.’ He puts his hands in his pockets again and kicks the ground. ‘Still want me to hang around?’
‘Why? Do you need to be somewhere?’
‘No.’ He gestures with his head in the direction of the upstairs flat. ‘Just uncomfortable being here. I can feel waves of hate coming through the walls.’
‘Me too,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Not your fault.’
‘Yeah, but you’re in this mess because of me.’
‘Not completely,’ he replies. She wonders what on earth he means.
The film crew has charged ahead, followed by the media scrum. Apart from the officers guarding the garden, and a runner, they’re alone now. They lean against the back doors of the van in silence, each plagued by their own thoughts.
Ruby is thinking about Mabel. She’s always there, a thick layer of worry spread over her life. In fact, Mabel is her life now. Nothing will ever be the same again. She can already tell that her relationship with Lewis is altered forever and may not survive this onslaught. He was very shaken by the police interview, even though he was willing to be questioned. She doesn’t know what went on, because so far he’s refused to confide in her about it. As soon as he came home, he took a beer from the