Blink(46)

She replaced the phone in its cradle and sat down on a breakfast stool. Staring out of the kitchen window, her eyes settled on the damp rot of next door’s fence.

From this vantage point, she could see the two odd socks that had been hanging on their neighbour’s line for months and months, through all weathers. The cotton had started to unravel; soon there would be nothing left.

At least fifteen years ago, the house next door had been converted into four separate student flats with communal kitchen and lounge areas. But Harriet could still remember when Mr and Mrs Merchant lived there and everything had been shipshape. Fences regularly treated with creosote and not a sign of the tangled, weed-strewn flowerbeds that now encroached onto the narrow front path.

Keeping the house and garden in order seemed to be a dated pastime for many these days, Harriet thought. Even that shoebox of a house that the Cotters had moved into looked in dire need of sprucing up.

If her suspicions proved correct, then Harriet doubted Toni Cotter was actually capable of organising a good, thorough clean up and providing a stable home for her daughter.

Harriet continued to stare through the rain-spotted glass, but she had stopped seeing anything now. Her mind had begun to ponder other concerns. What was little Evie getting up to while her mother was mooching around in a drugged haze? Who was the GP who’d been dishing out sedatives like Smarties to an obviously healthy young woman?

Harriet took her responsibilities seriously, and, as she had already made the decision to take Evie Cotter under her wing, so to speak, she would be unable to turn a blind eye to her mother’s behaviour. It was obvious she had stumbled on a rather unusual situation. You might say the mother was as much in need of Harriet’s guidance and support as her child was.

Harriet would make it her job to find out exactly what was happening when the door of 22 Muriel Crescent swung closed to the outside world.

In Harriet’s opinion, it amounted to the worst sort of neglect.





40





Three Years Earlier





Toni





I didn’t hear anything at all from Mum on Saturday. She called my mobile while I was upstairs and Evie answered and spoke to her briefly. I wasn’t worried; sometimes she was just best left to get over her strop in her own good time.

I refused to lie around feeling sorry for myself all morning, so I decided I’d take Evie into Hucknall.

‘Do I get to see where you work, Mummy?’ Evie asked, delighted. It was a pleasant change to see her smiling and upbeat.

‘That’s right, poppet,’ I replied. ‘And you’ll get to meet Mummy’s work friends, too.’

Impressively, aside from being the final resting place for the great poet Lord Byron, Hucknall was a convenient place for shopping. Once a thriving market town, it was much smaller than Nottingham city and I preferred the shops and layout to what I’d seen so far of Bulwell. A morning trip would be ideal to combine keeping Evie entertained and getting some errands done.

I parked up on the usual side street near work and walked into town, hand in hand with Evie. I felt so proud of my daughter, full of questions and energy, bright and eloquent in her conversation. This was Evie as she used to be, back at home. Happier, vibrant. And it was no coincidence that this happier, more vibrant Evie had appeared at the weekend, when there would be no school.

We dawdled a little as we made our way down the bustling High Street, a chilly breeze occasionally brushing our cheeks but leaving no lasting discomfort. If anything, it reminded me of the fact that Christmas was looming on the horizon, and in turn, as it always did, the fact that Andrew and Christmas family time no longer existed for us.

For the first time in a very long time, I wondered if I could make Christmas a more jolly occasion for me and Evie. A little spare money and this fresh start might just swing it in our favour, making the best of and showing gratitude for what we still had, rather than what we’d lost.

We walked past shops, several with Halloween displays in the windows, even though it was still a few weeks away. Evie spotted a witch’s outfit she loved in the window of a quality greeting card shop.

I made a mental note to buy it, once I got my first wage from Gregory’s. It would be far more expensive than my original plan of hitting Poundworld for all the witchy components, but hell, this was why I’d taken the job in the first place.

It wasn’t until the shop front of Gregory’s came into view that it occurred to me that if Bryony was in the office, she might well take umbrage at me popping in with Evie. The last time I’d seen her she’d swept by me, issuing what sounded very much like threats but what I hoped was just temper.

Still, my stomach twisted when I thought about it and I felt glad I hadn’t had any breakfast before we left the house. I opened the door to the shop and walked into the stuff of nightmares. Everyone – Dale, Bryony and Jo – was there. Their heads swivelled to the door as we stepped inside.

‘We just popped in to say hello,’ I said lightly, leaving the door ajar behind me so Bryony would see I wasn’t staying to chat. ‘I don’t want to disturb you.’

Bryony looked startled and her eyes immediately focused on Evie. She rushed over.

‘Hello, Evie, I’m Bryony.’ She held out her hand and I was proud that Evie shook it confidently. ‘I’ve seen your picture on your mummy’s desk but you’re even prettier in real life.’