Chapter 19
Later, when I get home after school, I expect to find Teri on the sofa reading the paper, the way I left her, but she’s not here.
‘Hello! I’m home!’ I call out.
Silence. Maybe she’s gone out. I go into the bedroom and stop at the door, stunned.
I haven’t been in here since Teri moved in, and I can’t believe the mess.
The bed is unmade, a swirl of linen mixed with odd socks, clothes scattered all over the floor, mostly underwear and T-shirts – all mine – and my red silk shirt is casually thrown on top of the dresser. What is that doing there?
I go back to the kitchen, and I’m putting my shopping away when I hear a crashing sound coming from upstairs.
I run upstairs to my bedroom, where the noise came from. A moan comes from the wardrobe. I gasp. Teri is on the floor, half-covered by my clothes and hangers.
‘What happened?’
‘I went to borrow a clean shirt, and my foot gave way.’ She sits holding her ankle, her legs entangled in shirts. ‘God, that hurts.’
I am vaguely thinking that it’s odd she’s in my room. Of course, she’s welcome to borrow whatever she wants, but I would have expected her to ask me first. But I don’t dwell on it.
‘You poor thing. Here. Give me your hand.’
She pushes clothes out of the way, reaching for my hand, and then suddenly we both stop.
Frozen.
There’s money all over the floor. Lots of it. And an upside-down, open shoebox.
‘Oh, God,’ I whisper.
‘What the hell?’ Teri says. ‘Did you rob a bank?’
I stare at the money, then at Teri, my heart racing, my thoughts jumbled together.
I’m trying to come up with a story that could reasonably explain why there’s almost ten thousand pounds lying on the floor, but nothing comes.
Or at least nothing rational. I’m saving to get my teeth capped.
I’ve been putting a little aside for a new car.
It’s for our second honeymoon. A cruise to the Caribbean.
Who am I kidding? We live in a very nice house on a very nice street. We clearly don’t want for anything. Why would I be scrimping extra cash here and there?
‘That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me,’ she says kindly.
I get to my knees and start gathering up the money. I try to shove it all back in the box. ‘There’s been a lot going on,’ I say.
‘I know. I can see that,’ she says sweetly.
‘I can see how tired you are all the time. I’m sorry, Kate.
I hope I haven’t added to whatever is going on in your life.
And if I have, I am truly sorry. I’ve been loving being here with you and Holly, and I’m dreading going back to my house, which is incredibly selfish of me. I’ll go home today.’
‘It’s not that,’ I say weakly.
‘Kate.’ She takes my hand. Her face is full of worry. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
I don’t know why. Maybe because she’s so nice, and I’m so tired because I’m not sleeping, and I think of what she said about her husband the previous day: I used to fantasise about him being dead.
And I burst into tears.
We sit together on the floor in front of my wardrobe, me with my arms around my legs, Teri has an arm around my shoulders. It’s the first time someone has shown me any care in such a long time – it makes me cry even more.
‘Talk to me, Kate,’ she says softly.
I rest my forehead on my knees and it all comes pouring out of me. Not that he’s dead, of course. But the kind of life we’ve been living under his roof.
‘He is certifiably insane. I swear. When he interviewed me to be Holly’s nanny, he offered me a two-week probationary period.
After the two weeks, he told me that I could stay.
“But I don’t want to see her,” he said. Foolishly, I thought he meant that the sight of her brought up memories of her mother.
It didn’t take long for me to find out that he simply hated her.
He hated the sight of her. He didn’t just hate her – he was horrible to her. Just horrible.’
It’s like the dam has broken. I can’t stop talking. I’m telling her one terrible story after another, and the whole time, she listens, frowning, nodding, encouraging.
‘He’s never let me buy her new clothes. Can you believe it?
When I said she really needs new stuff, he’d ask, “What for? She already has everything she needs.” I would point out that they were old and scruffy, but he’d insist there was nothing wrong with them.
I had to buy them in secret, make sure they were the same as she always wore – black, shapeless – and sneak them in and hide them at the back of her wardrobe. ’
I keep going. How we’ve lived in suspended animation, waiting for the next tirade, the next punishment, the next bout of screaming, shouting, the throwing of insults like they’re confetti. The feeling of being cowered so much and so often that I noticed we were both starting to stoop.
She picks at bits of lint on the carpet. ‘That’s tough,’ she says, finally. ‘He’s never hit her, has he?’
‘Oh God no, no!’ I say. ‘I would have gone to the police if he had.’
‘Of course.’
But the way she says, ‘Of course,’ makes me want to say more, to justify myself.
‘Just the other day, the way he put his hand behind her neck…’ I tell her about the milk, the way he punched the bottle out of her hand, how he held her, his grip on the back of her neck so fierce I could see the white of his knuckles.
‘For the first time, I actually got scared, Teri. I really thought he might do something to her.’
‘Really?’
I nod.
‘Where is Holly, by the way?’
‘Drama club. They rehearse later on Thursdays.’ She finds a tissue in her pocket and hands it to me. I blow my nose. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you all that.’
Except I do know. Part of me thinks I could use the help. Holly can’t help me get him out of the freezer. Can I really do it on my own? I don’t know.
Do I dare tell her the truth? Ask for help? I shudder.
‘So what’s the money for?’ she asks.
I rub my forehead. ‘Right. The money.’