Chapter 28
28
T he one thing Helen knew she should do was the one thing she feared she couldn’t. Stay in control of her emotions, remain as she was, pressed hard against the front wall of her house, obscured by night shadows. Her hands scratched against the rough render as she linked them together behind her back and leaned against them. To her right, climbing up the side of the front door, she could smell the richly sweet fragrance of jasmine, and it made her feel nauseous. But she wouldn’t move. She couldn’t move.
Lawrence, Libby, Jack had. Standing in the driveway they’d formed a grim welcoming party for the car that had just pulled in. Its headlights formed two columns of white light that slanted across the gravel. Helen watched as the engine of the car died and the columns went dark.
The driver’s door opened and a man got out. He made an odd half-wave to Lawrence, and then moved around to the passenger side and opened the door. For a moment nothing happened and then Caro’s head appeared, bent low. The man had his arm out towards her and together they moved around to the front of the car.
It was then that Helen saw Caro’s head was bent low because she was holding something that she pressed close to her chest. Ben. She was holding Ben.
Her rage was instant as a firework. A spinning, sparking wheel of white fury that came from deep within and propelled her forward. She couldn’t look at Caro and she couldn’t look away. She couldn’t speak and her mouth was full of words. She gripped her hands together, needles of fury pricking at her fingertips.
Lawrence and Libby walked towards the car, blocking any view she might have of her grandchild being handed back to his mother. Good! Because this was a memory Helen didn’t want. A car-crash of a scene, loaded with damage for decades to come. Tipping her head to the stars, she bit down on her bottom lip. There wasn’t an ounce of empathy she could summon up for Caro, not an ounce.
‘Mum?’ Libby’s voice came from somewhere very close and lowering her chin Helen was almost surprised to see her daughter standing a foot away, Ben in her arms, her face shiny with tears.
Helen nodded. ‘Go inside,’ she whispered.
And then Libby and Ben were inside. Safe.
Still she didn’t move. She remained where she was, pressed against the wall, an unseen spectator.
The policewoman had turned on the engine of the police car, so light once again flooded the driveway. Helen shrank back. All around she was aware of voices… Kay and Lawrence, the crackle of the police radio, footsteps scrunching gravel. There were seven people in her driveway, eight including herself, and three cars. It should have been easy enough to remain invisible, and indeed the general commotion made it clear to Helen that, in that moment, no one was looking for her. Except for one person.
Backlit by headlights Caro stood alone, a tall dark silhouette, like the last poppy in a slaughtered field. She hadn’t tried to slip into the shadows, she hadn’t moved for shelter behind the man who had brought her here. She remained apart and exposed.
And although Helen couldn't see her face, she knew that Caro was looking right at her.
Jack brushed past. He stopped on the doorstep. ‘You OK?’ he whispered.
Helen nodded. ‘Go inside,’ she said, but when she turned to him, he already had.
One less and still Caro didn’t move. Helen watched as the policeman walked across to her now, his hand making soft conciliatory movements, the silver of his cap badge catching a wink of moonlight. At one point he turned and indicated the open doorway that Helen stood beside, and she felt as if she’d been scorched by a passing torch.
Now Lawrence approached Caro. He kept a foot away, arms crossed and head erect as he nodded in response to the policeman’s words. Then suddenly, as if a spell had been cast from the sky above, the group broke up. The policeman went back to his car, Lawrence came brushing past her into the house… which left Caro alone again. Only now someone else had stepped up, standing much closer to Caro than either the policeman or Lawrence had. And this person’s silhouette, much shorter and wider, turned to Caro and raised her arms and Helen watched, a ball of red-hot emotion at the back of her throat, as Caro leaned in to receive the embrace.
It was Kay, and Helen didn’t know if she should scream or cry.
‘Shook will drive you home,’ she heard Kay say.
Lawrence brushed past her again, on his way back out.
‘What’s happening,’ she hissed. The first words she’d managed to say to him.
When he turned to look at her, the expression on his face was a mixture of surprised remembrance. As if she were an important part of an equation he’d been struggling to solve.
‘What’s happening?’
‘Umm…’ Lawrence turned to the driveway, waving his hand in the direction of the police car. ‘They’re leaving,’ he said. ‘They just want some contact details.’
‘Is that it then?’
Lawrence looked at her warily. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Is she just going to go home, and we’re to forget all about it?’
‘Helen.’ He turned again to look across at where Caro and Kay stood, joined now by Shook. He ran a hand through his hair. ‘We’ll need to think about it tomorrow.’
‘Is she just going home?’
‘Helen—’
‘Is she?’
‘For now, yes. I think…’
‘ What the hell were you doing? ’ she raged, finally breaking free of the shadows that had bound her. ‘ What the fuck were you doing, Caro? ’ Her voice was loud, sharp edged with emotion and shrill with bitter anger. Against the soft night air, it was a whip. And this wasn’t a question. It was a condemnation.
No one spoke.
Only the condemned. Caro’s arms were loose as spaghetti. ‘I’m sorry,’ she managed in a hoarse whisper. ‘I don’t know how?—’
‘ Sorry ,’ Helen hissed. ‘No, Caro. That’s not going to work.’
‘Helen,’ Kay ventured.
‘Stay out of it, Kay!’ Another whip.
‘Helen…’ Caro took a step towards her.
‘ NO! ’ Helen flung her arm forward and thrust her hand out. ‘No,’ she said again, ‘Do not come anywhere near me.’
And Caro moved back. Back to the tent of space between the open passenger door and the car.
‘ Sorry? ’ she hissed. ‘My daughter has been through hell, and that’s all you can say? Sorry? For stealing my daughter’s baby?’
‘I didn’t steal him,’ Caro whispered.
‘Helen.’
‘ KAY! ’ Helen spun to Kay. ‘ Stay out of it. You can’t help. This time you really can’t help!’
‘Please, Helen.’ Caro had her hands pressed together. ‘I didn’t steal him. I wasn’t trying to take him.’
‘You’ve been gone for hours!’ Helen cried. ‘You didn’t take your phone! No one could get hold of you! We didn’t know what the hell was going on! Do you,’ she hissed, ‘have any idea of what you’ve put Libby through?’
‘I left it in my car.’ Caro looked across to where her own car sat further down the drive. ‘I didn’t mean to be gone… I didn’t mean to hurt Libby…’ Her face was an oval of white.
And as Helen stood looking back at Caro, the firework inside her fizzled out, replaced by nothing at all. She felt nothing. She couldn’t forgive Caro, but she no longer had the energy to condemn her, and she couldn’t look at Kay because Kay might be expecting something that she knew she wasn’t capable of delivering. Which only left her more numb.
‘I can’t… Helen…’ Caro’s lips shaped words that were not audible. Her face was whiter than the half-moon that sat above them.
And head down, Helen turned and walked back to her house.
In the safety of her kitchen, she stood for a long time, paralysed by the dilemma of what to do next. After long moments of ringing silence, she heard from outside muffled voices, the thud of a car door slamming, wheels on gravel. Utterly exhausted, she walked across to the table. Propped up against the vase of flowers lay the card Caro had written hours earlier. Helen picked it up, her mouth tensing as she read the handwritten message.
Congratulations, Libby. All my love, Caro.
She took the flowers and yanked them out of the vase, then with the card in her other hand, she walked across to the bin, pressed her foot on the pedal and threw everything in.