Blink(12)

‘That’s OK, I’d rather she spent her time playing,’ I said crisply.

The teacher said nothing, tight-lipped and disapproving. I felt a sudden need to try to rescue the situation.

I resorted to Mum’s failsafe solution to solving the woes of the world.

‘Miss Watson, can I offer you a nice cup of tea?’ Her face remained stony and I noticed she still hadn’t invited me to use her first name. ‘I can explain one or two things, if you’ve got time for a quick chat.’

Harriet gave a curt nod and followed me into the kitchen.

‘Please, sit down.’ I nodded to the tiny breakfast table and its two flimsy folding chairs.

I made mugs of steaming tea, kicking myself that I hadn’t got around to doing a proper food shop yet. I didn’t have so much as a shortbread finger to offer Miss Watson and our tea took the last of the milk.

I set the drinks down on the table and was relieved to sense things becoming a little more relaxed between us. We chatted about the onset of autumn and the recent cooler weather.

The tension in my shoulders had just begun to dissolve when I realised, with a start, I’d seated her directly in front of the scattered unpaid bills and benefit statements I’d been perusing earlier.

‘I’m so sorry, let me move this.’ My face flooded with heat as I swept the papers into an untidy pile, scooping them up into my arms and setting them on the side.

Miss Watson didn’t comment. In fact, to my huge relief, she showed no sign of having even noticed the personal papers.

‘So,’ she said, taking a sip of her tea and setting the mug back down. ‘Tell me a little bit about Evie.’

I told her about Evie’s love of reading and how she enjoyed building Lego structures for hours on end.

‘I try to encourage her because spatial skills are important too, aren’t they? I think there’s too much emphasis, these days, on academic work.’

Miss Watson sniffed and took another sip of her tea.

I told her how Evie had enjoyed having a good group of friends at her old school, how they’d often taken turns having sleepovers at each other’s houses at the weekend.

‘When my husband, Andrew, had his accident, everything changed,’ I told her. ‘It’s been so hard for Evie, having to leave her old life behind on top of everything else.’

I wanted to say it had been hard on us both, but I didn’t. I wanted Evie’s teacher to understand what it meant for her.

‘How did it happen?’ Harriet asked. ‘Your husband’s accident?’

I took a breath. I’d learned that the best way to deal with this question, and get through it without breaking down into tears, was to keep things as simple as possible and stick to the unadorned facts.

‘Andrew and his team were on a night mission in Afghanistan. Intelligence had provided them with maps but the directions were off. Andrew led his men straight over the edge of a cliff. Two men died, Andrew was one of them.’

Harriet nodded but she made no comment.

‘One man died at the scene but they got Andrew to hospital. He had massive head injuries. After a few weeks he was able to come home and we thought he’d make a partial recovery but he suffered a massive blood clot to the brain and died just a few days later.’

She afforded me no appropriate noises of sympathy and somehow I found that a relief. It encouraged me to carry on talking.

‘It’s been two years now,’ I continued. ‘My mother encouraged me to move up to Nottingham. It felt like it was time for us to make a clean break.’

For a moment I couldn’t speak.

‘And here you both are,’ Harriet remarked.

‘Evie has been through a lot for a child of her age,’ I told her. ‘Being here feels like the fresh start we’ve been looking for.’

Harriet looked at me, and for the weirdest second or two, I thought I saw a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth.





10





Three Years Earlier





Toni





When our visitor had left, I went back into the kitchen and sat alone at the table for a few minutes.

Harriet Watson was a strange woman. She hadn’t really commented sympathetically, as most people tended to do, on my story of how things had gone so terribly wrong.

Yet I’d found that reassuring. I had opened up emotionally, more than I’d ever done to a complete stranger. Her apparent indifference made me feel as if the reasons for holding back had been neatly swept away and, for a short time, that had been somewhat of a relief.

I’d probably said more than I intended to, though. She was Evie’s teacher, for goodness’ sake. I shouldn’t have gone into all the gory details. Too late now.

At least she had a fuller understanding of Evie; you never knew when she might need an extra bit of slack cut for her at school. I was especially worried about the new, blossoming impatience and stubbornness she’d displayed lately.

I took a few deep breaths, suddenly aware of my dry mouth and the heat in my hands. My heart had ceased merely fluttering and was now banging like a drum inside my chest.

I had too much thinking to thank for that.

Reaching for my handbag, I slid out the small bottle with shaking hands. It was half-filled with hard-angled, light blue tablets. Andrew’s name was printed in bold type on the neat, white label.