The Vow - Debbie Howells Page 0,40
away from here, but you don’t care what I want. It’s all about you.’
My mother didn’t hate our house. But my hands were over my ears, unable to bear hearing him speak to her like that, so that I missed her whisper in response.
The exchange unsettled me, as I applied reverse logic to what Matt had said, about it not being her decision to make, because it certainly wasn’t his. It had happened repeatedly, Matt bullying, my mother resisting, the situation spiralling, deepening my mistrust, until slowly it all started to make a warped kind of sense. If he forced her to agree, if they bought somewhere together, it would be in their joint names. That was the moment I understood it wasn’t her he wanted. It was her money.
I waited until Matt was out before confronting my mother. ‘You can’t go on letting him speak to you like that.’
Her face was ash-white as she shook her head. ‘You only hear part of the story, Jess. He gets upset easily. I don’t mean to, but I always seem to make things worse.’ Her eyes were troubled; unable to hide how upset she felt.
‘That’s outrageous,’ I cried. ‘You don’t do anything of the sort. Love shouldn’t be like this. He should be on your side. He should want you to be happy. But instead, he’s completely vile to you.’ I broke off. ‘Don’t sell the house. Not if you don’t want to. It’s your home. It isn’t up to Matt to decide. You have a say in what happens too.’
Seeing her stricken face, I wondered if a part of her agreed with me. But when she spoke, she sounded defeated. ‘I can’t sell the house.’ A look I couldn’t read had flickered in her eyes. ‘It’s our home. It’s where I work. It’s taken years to create this garden. If we moved, I’d have to start again.’
Why do you put up with this? I wanted to shout at her. Can’t you see how wrong it is? But I couldn’t hurt her more, not after what Matt was already doing to her. Instead, I made her a silent promise.
I was under Matt’s spell – but not for long. I’m stronger than my mother. One day I’d catch him out. Then I’d do whatever it took to get her away from him.
Amy
Chapter Fourteen
Two days pass when I see no-one, days during which my mind frets about what the police are finding out, from Matt’s phone and more disturbingly, from Lara. After cancelling another appointment with Sonia, I’m on edge, watching from the sitting room window as the For Sale board goes up outside Mrs Guthrie’s gate. It’s the wrong time of year to sell a house that’s dark and cold, that still holds the echo of her presence. Even from here, the house reeks of emptiness, its windows unlit in the fading light, the curtains left open. Shivering, I think of the ambulance that came, when her cold body was found a day too late.
Soon, the house will be sold. New people will move in. More people I won’t be able to trust, because until they prove themselves, no-one is trustworthy. It’s why I go over there one evening, letting myself into the back garden that had been hers for fifty years – to say goodbye and close a door in my mind.
Looking around, I’m reminded that we are only ever custodians of a garden; our influence fleeting. Already hers is diminishing, the edges of the path losing definition as the grass encroaches. Weeds are starting to take over, while there are gaps in the borders where someone’s been in and dug up some of her plants. As I stand there, I wonder if her soul is here. But I feel nothing, not even a whisper. Every last part of her seems to have gone.
When I glance into her greenhouse, pots are planted with early sweet peas, that without her daily watering, have withered and died. Alongside are the broad beans she’s always grown from seed, to carefully pick months later, just as she always harvested the apples from her tree. It’s clear she hadn’t expected to die. I wonder if the police have taken note, that she must have imagined at least another year here.
As I stand there, the memory of her voice comes to me. My Japanese anemones are still in flower … Gazing at the last remaining petals, I whisper back. I’m sorry … Trying to imagine how it felt