The Stepmother(74)

 

‘How is Otto?’ I can’t help myself. ‘Is he here? Is he okay?’

 

Otto’s father would have slammed the door in my face, but the cat gets in the way, so he makes do with telling me to get lost.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

I sit in the window of the dilapidated fish-and-chip shop on the seafront. Before me the sea rolls indolently up and down. What a fool.

 

I eat half the chips I ordered and a bit of the fish.

 

How has it come to this? I think, stirring my tea full of sugar.

 

The truth is it would be easier if it was the Lundys sending those messages. Because if it wasn’t them, the truth is even more unpalatable.

 

I text Kaye back:

 

Hi. How did you know I was feeling bad?

 

 

 

 

 

A few minutes later, a reply:

 

Luke told me. Poor you

 

 

 

 

 

As I finish my sugary tea, my phone rings.

 

‘Frankie says you’re down south?’ Marlena sounds urgent.

 

‘Yeah, I’m in Brighton.’ I watch a seagull dive-bomb the bin outside.

 

‘Why?’ She sounds anxious. Most unlike Marlena.

 

‘I wanted to know if the Lundys had sent that email.’

 

‘But you’re not meant to go near those stupid Twits, are you?’

 

‘I don’t know.’ I’m not. ‘But I just wanted to check.’

 

‘Well don’t bother with them. They’re not the answer.’ There’s a pause while Marlena speaks to someone in the background. ‘I’m worried about you,’ she says when she comes back on the line.

 

‘Why? What’s happened?’ My ears prick up. ‘Did you find out who did send it?’

 

‘No, but my mate Robo’s on it. Are you going home now?’

 

‘Home?’

 

‘Back to Hertfordshire?’

 

‘Yeah, I’m driving back soon.’

 

‘Drive carefully, Jeanie,’ she says. ‘I’ll be in touch really soon, I swear.’

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Walking back to the car park near the Lanes, my heart stops and then soars when I see Otto, in the midst of a group of teenage lads outside one of the arcades. They are as rumbustious as a bunch of puppies, piggybacking each other down the road, shouting and laughing, sharing rollies and cans of shandy.

 

I quicken my step and raise my hand, eager to catch the boy’s eye – but when I get nearer, I see it’s not Otto.

 

Or, if it was, he didn’t see me. He slipped around the corner silently with his raucous friends.

 

I don’t belong in Brighton any more, I realise, as I drive away from the town. Everyone was right – I should stay away.

 

I thought this was my true home, but I know now it’s not.

 

I just don’t know where home is any more.

 

If I ever did.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When I reach the house, I can’t remember the route I took to get here.

 

Dusk is drawing in, and the house is empty. Matthew must be working late, I guess, and I feel that strange pulsating fear I remember from last year.

 

Somewhere along the way, I’ve started to feel angry too – only I’m really not sure who exactly I’m angry with.

 

Everyone. No one. Myself.

 

I lie on the sofa, thinking I’ll just shut my eyes for five minutes…

 

An hour later I wake in the dark, sweating, from a nightmare that’s slipping away. I scrabble to remember the field of small children – they kept running away from me towards a river – I was terrified they were all going to fall in, and I chased after them, frantically shouting, ‘Come back,’ but…

 

Still bewildered, I hear a clatter from the hallway.

 

‘Hello?’ I pull myself up to sitting. ‘Who’s there?’

 

A figure walks through the door, though the gloom, towards me. My heart speeds up, and confused, only half awake, I stare into the shadows. I knew it – I knew it was only a matter of time before he came…

 

And then I realise it’s Scarlett standing above me. She’s holding something high in her hand, and for a moment I think it’s a knife. She’s going to stab me. And then I laugh…