Chapter 2
TWO
Five Years Later
Five years since they’d moved here and fenced off the front garden and Erica still hadn’t mastered the child-proof lock on the front gate. Fiddling with it, she tore the edge from her thumbnail. ‘Damn.’
Through luck and effort, rather than skill, she wrenched it open and it scraped the gravel path as it squeaked back on its hinges. The small front lawn had been freshly cut – Andrew’s Saturday morning regimen must still be in place – and the sweet grassy smell tickled her nose. She breathed it in, storing it away in her lungs.
Unkempt and overgrown, the flower beds at each side had not had the same attention as the grass. June is a crucial month for rose care and it broke her heart to see the bushes sagging with the weight of their tired blooms. All they needed was a little pruning and restraint – a piece of string, a cable tie – and they’d display their beauty for all. Staring at them, she jumped when she heard a voice.
‘Hello, love. How are you? I like the new hair.’
Her hand on her new, shorter, easier-to-manage cut, Erica turned to her left. Over the fence, Lynn was on her knees, weeding her own side of the wall.
Since the last time she’d seen Lynn, she’d let the grey in her own hair thread further into the blonde and it suited her. ‘Thanks. It was getting too difficult to manage. I’m good. How are you?’
As she sat back on her haunches, Lynn gave Erica a smile of welcome that she hadn’t had here for weeks. ‘Can’t complain. How’s our Benjamin?’
They’d arrived at their house on this new estate at the worst time in their lives. Though Andrew had wanted to be closer to town, she’d been determined that this place would be a fresh start for them. A new build would be pristine, modern, electrics checked and functioning. The day they’d arrived, after weeks living in an Airbnb, she’d breathed a sigh of relief.
Lynn had been there to greet them that day, having moved in the day before. From that moment on, she’d been a tower of strength for Erica. Lynn had always had that gift of being there without ever intruding. In that first week, Erica had expected her neighbour’s judgement at the screams and yells – often hers – that rang out of their back door, but she’d been nothing but kind to all of them. For Mollie, she’d been a replacement grandparent for Erica’s own mother back in the States, teaching her to knit and make banana loaf and letting her set up her paints and crayons on her dining room table where they wouldn’t be swiped by her twin brother every few minutes.
Ben hadn’t been as interested in spending time with Lynn, so it was kind of her to ask after him. ‘He’s doing well. He loves the new school. They’re really great with him.’
The lines around Lynn’s eyes deepened as she smiled. ‘That’s good, love. It doesn’t seem five minutes ago that you all came here. Where does the time go, eh?’
It had taken a while for them to settle. Obviously, they’d not been able to go back to the other house after the fire: it hadn’t been safe for any of them. Relocating was difficult at any time, but doing it with young twins, hospital appointments, and a husband who could never be a hundred per cent sure what time he’d get home, made it all the more difficult. Nevertheless, she’d grown to like it here. This house had been a sanctuary from the uphill struggle of the outside world and – despite knowing that it was the right decision for Ben – it’d been such a wrench to move out. She missed it terribly. And, she realised now, she’d missed having a neighbour like Lynn terribly, too.
After Lynn lost her husband three years ago, she’d been a whirlwind of activity, throwing herself into anything that kept her busy, refusing to give in to grief or age. She’d always have a friendly word for Erica on her way in or out somewhere, and dropped by often with a cake or a story in the evenings when Andrew was working late. In the ten weeks since she’d moved out, Erica had learned how long and lonely the evenings could be without anyone close by. With barely any social contact at all. Lynn’s smiling face brought a lump to her throat. ‘How are your roses doing? The garden looks great.’
Scanning the neatly tended flower beds, Lynn sighed with contentment. ‘They’re coming on a treat. Your Andrew did my lawn this morning, love him. The mower is getting a bit much for me now.’
Her gut twisted. Could she still call him ‘her’ Andrew while they were living apart? When the only conversations they had were short, stilted and centred on the two children? Not knowing how much he’d told the neighbours – and still hoping the situation was temporary – Erica didn’t correct Lynn. ‘That’s good of him. He might want to give his own garden a bit of attention, too.’
Maybe Lynn had worked it out for herself, because she narrowed her blue eyes and tilted her head. ‘When are you coming back? I know the last couple of months have been rough on you, but we miss you around here. And the kids must miss one another, don’t they? And you and Andrew are such a lovely couple. I don’t want to pry, love, but I’m worried about you both.’
Another twist to the gut. The last couple of months hadn’t just been rough, they’d been unbearable. The worst part about being back here was the danger of encountering anyone who knew what’d happened at Easter. The real reason Erica had left. Not Lynn, she was kind, but what if she bumped into any of the parents from the school? Living in that apartment an hour away might be lonely, but at least no one knew her there. And as for coming back to the house where her husband and daughter lived…How could she answer that question when she really didn’t know? Would they ever be able to get back to the way they’d been?
None of this was suitable conversation over a garden wall. She forced a smile and a breezy tone. ‘Logistics are tricky. Ben’s school is close to where I’m living now. It’s an hour away from here. You know how he is in a car for more than about ten minutes.’
There’d been enough seatbelt battles out the front here over the last five years for Lynn not to question that statement. Instead, she took a pause and looked Erica dead in the eye. ‘What about Mollie?’
The challenge in her tone was uncomfortable. Lynn had always been supportive, not judgemental. Where had this come from? What did she expect her to say? It was out of her control. ‘Mollie wanted to stay here, you know that. She’s doing so well at her secondary school and her friends are all here. To be honest, I think even seeing me on a Sunday is too much. Or is this a gentle complaint about her saxophone practice?’
Her attempt at humour hadn’t landed well. She thought she’d got the hang of British irony after sixteen years in the country but Lynn wasn’t smiling. In fact, there was something on her face that Erica couldn’t read. Maybe it wasn’t judgement. Was it…concern?
‘Look, love. It’s not my place to stick my nose in where it’s not wanted. But Mollie’s only thirteen. A girl that age needs her mum around.’
Guilt nibbled at Erica. As far as she knew, Mollie was doing great. So great, in fact, that she barely had the time to chat in the evenings and – last weekend – she hadn’t been here at all. Looking at Lynn, she just wanted to get inside and see her. ‘I think she’s fine. But I’ll see how she is today.’
The usual expression of kind benevolence returned to Lynn’s face. ‘That’s good. I didn’t want to upset you.’ She paused. ‘I’m worried about Andrew, too. I don’t know if you already know this, but he’s?—’
‘I’m really sorry, Lynn, but I need to get inside. Ben’s carer is only there for a few hours today and I want to make the most of my time with Mollie.’ Though she felt bad for cutting her off, it was true, she really did only have a few precious hours to spend with her daughter.
Lynn waved her apology away. ‘Of course, I’m sorry for wittering on. You go, love. I’ll catch up with you another time. I need to make a cup of tea, anyway.’
She waited for Lynn to ease herself to her feet and close her front door behind her before knocking on her own door. Though she still had keys, it didn’t feel appropriate to just let herself in now that she wasn’t living here. She certainly didn’t want Lynn to witness her embarrassment if the door went unanswered as it had last weekend. That time, when she’d come to collect her daughter for their regular day out together, Andrew had finally opened the door and merely shrugged at her. ‘She’s not here.’
‘What do you mean? I’ve been coming here at eleven on a Sunday for the last two months. Where is she?’
That shrug again made her want to reach up to Andrew’s broad shoulders and shake him. ‘Out. With her friends. When I got up this morning, she’d left a note and asked me to tell you.’
It’d stung like a slap. Not only did her daughter not want to see her, but she hadn’t thought to call or text her herself? Erica would’ve understood. Mollie was thirteen. It was to be expected that there were Sundays that she would rather hang out with her friends than her mom. Even if that was the only time they got to be alone together at the moment. She’d tried to speak to her on three separate occasions this week, but Mollie had ignored Erica’s calls, sending a vague text back after the third attempt instead.
I’m fine. Just off to my sax lesson. Can’t talk.
Erica hadn’t been able to stave off a feeling that she’d done something to upset Mollie but didn’t know what it was. And now Lynn’s words of caution had thrown petrol on the spark of concern. She needed to see her daughter’s face. Mollie had never been able to hide it if something was going on.
Taking a deep breath, she held her knuckles to the door. Before she even made contact, it opened to reveal Andrew dressed in a crisp shirt and jeans with a back draught carrying the citrus of his aftershave; all of which was incongruous for a Sunday at home. ‘Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to get here.’
She pushed down her irritation and the desire to tell him that it had only just turned eleven. The time she always came. ‘Is she ready to go?’
Her heart sank when he shook his head. Another week where she wouldn’t be able to see her daughter? She couldn’t let this go on.
Then he surprised her by opening the door wider and standing back to let her through. ‘She’s in the shower. Come in. She needs you. It’s serious.’