Bad Little Girl(66)

‘He’s ccccccRAYzeee!’ Lorna laughed.

And there was Marianne Cairns, with her aviator sunglasses and her tarnished hair, laughing along with her.

Lorna held a rope with a ball on the end of it, swung it about her head like a shot putter and flung it into the bushes. The dog yapped joyfully and bounded after it.

‘You’re ccccRAYzeee! Benji!’

‘He is. He’s very little still. Just a pup. Like you. How old are you?’

‘Ten.’ Lorna was pert.

‘Ten!’ Marianne widened her eyes dramatically. ‘I thought you were just a baby of eight, but you’re a big girl of ten!’

That struck the wrong note with Lorna. She stood suddenly stiff, mouth pursed. ‘I’ve never been a baby. Even eight is big. And I’m ten.’

‘Oh. Well, I didn’t mean to insult you. You’re a very, very big girl.’

There was an awkward pause. Claire called from the doorway, ‘I think you’d better find Benji before he gets lost in the little woods.’

‘Oh my God, you look like Banquo’s ghost,’ cried Marianne. ‘Look at you! Sit down, sit down!’ She hustled Claire to the kitchen table and pressed her into a chair. ‘Thought I’d drop in and give you these.’ She crouched down and began dragging things out of her shoulder bag. ‘I went to the doctor’s this morning pretending to have a badly sprained ankle. Not a bad performance, if I say so myself, but that’s years of theatrical training for you! I got you, let’s see . . .’ She rummaged around. ‘Codeine, anti-inflammatories, some rub-on gel stuff. More painkillers – these are great – I use them with migraines, helps you sleep, and – ta dah! Brandy! I noticed you were nearly out, so I got a big bottle. All you need for a happy convalescence!’

‘That’s so kind of you,’ Claire murmured.

‘Ah’ – Marianne made large, dismissive movements with both hands – ‘not a problem.’ Her voice had a slight American twang to it. ‘No big deal. Let’s get inside and open up that brandy.’

‘It’s the morning.’

‘Well, it’s not as if you’re going anywhere, is it? If you need to get anything from the shops I can go for you. Sit down and let me make amends.’ And she hustled Claire into a kitchen chair. Marianne hissed through her teeth when she saw the ankle, gently moved it from side to side while Claire winced. ‘Nasty. This happened to me once and I was out of commission for weeks. Here, take these.’ She held out four pills. ‘And I’ll put on some of that gel once the pain lessens. Keep it up too. Do you have a little table and a cushion?’

Outside they could hear Lorna bounding about with the dog, squealing. The wind buffeted the windows and blew leaves and gravel into the kitchen.

‘Crazy crazy puppy!’ shrieked Lorna. ‘Lovely crazy puppy!’ Then the door slammed abruptly.

‘She doesn’t seem very shy.’ Marianne passed Claire an unwanted cup of coffee and brandy.

‘She’s timid around new people, and dogs, until she gets to know them. She does seem to have taken a liking to Benji though.’

‘Oh we were having a fine time just now. She was telling me all about her old school.’

‘She was talking about school?’ Claire tried to keep the surprise out of her voice.

‘Yes. And her hamster.’

‘Hamster?’

‘The one that died, just before you came here?’

‘Oh, yes, sorry.’ Claire, flustered, blew on her coffee. ‘The one that died.’

‘How’s the coffee?’

‘Lovely. It’s lovely.’

‘So, how long has she been out of school?’ Marianne asked.

Claire took a deep breath. ‘She was in mainstream until Year Four.’

‘So recently? Does she miss it? The interaction with other children, I mean?’

‘No.’ Claire held her mouth tight.

‘It can be a difficult transition. Steiner always said – what was it?’

‘I don’t know.’

There was a pause. ‘I can see I’ve touched a nerve.’ Marianne laughed lightly, but her eyes were hurt. ‘It’s just that she seems so full of life. Energy. And it can’t all be the negative ions. And teaching is such a vocation. I mean, you have to be made for it, don’t you? It’s such a big thing to take on.’

‘I am a teacher.’

‘Oh, really?’ Marianne gave a wide smile. Her front teeth were slightly rimmed with black. ‘I taught too, for many years. Small groups. It’s a wonderful job, but sometimes so constricting. I found it so, negative sometimes. The other teachers I mean. The system. No room for manoeuvre, you know?’

‘So you’re a teacher and a singer and an actress? Really?’ The words were out of Claire’s mouth before she knew it; she shocked herself. Marianne folded her mouth shut and stared at her lap. Claire felt terrible. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound rude. You seem to have done so much, that’s all.’

‘Well. Perhaps I share too much,’ Marianne said shortly.

‘You’ve been very kind, and I didn’t mean for a minute—’

‘And I don’t often get to talk with people who have the same interests and experiences as I do. And I thought, with you also having a teaching background . . .’ Marianne stood up, smiling like a hurt child. ‘Ach well. Look, it’s your business. And you’re a protective mother, and I honour that. I really do. I just really wanted to come and see if you were OK. I felt just terrible last night, thinking about you both all alone here. But of course, you’re not really alone. If you have each other.’ She reached slowly for her shoulder bag, large eyes cast down, holding her mouth in a tight little line. Claire felt even worse.