The Stepmother(93)

‘Hang on.’ I’m trying to compute this. ‘Get who out of here?’

 

‘Matthew of course.’

 

‘What do you mean you had to tell him?’

 

‘I made it up,’ she says dramatically. ‘I’m sorry, but it won’t harm him.’

 

‘You made it up? About Frankie stealing?’ My initial relief is overwhelmed by a huge flood of anger. ‘But why? What if Matthew’s gone to the police? What if Frankie gets in real trouble because of what you said…’

 

‘Oh he won’t call the cops.’ She’s dismissive. ‘He’s got too much to hide himself.’

 

‘Matthew has? Like what?’

 

‘Never mind. Please just let me get Scarlett.’

 

This time I don’t stop her. I let her thunder up the stairs in her leather leggings, her expensive poncho slung elegantly over the top. She’s still immaculate despite her trauma – and overdressed.

 

Listening to the squeak of the old boards and the murmur of voices above my head, exhaustion floods me. I don’t understand anything she’s said – except that she made up stuff about Frankie to get Matthew out of here.

 

Kaye reappears. ‘She’s just getting dressed, and then we’ll be off.’

 

‘Okay.’ I’ll be glad when they’re all gone. I contemplate offering her tea, and then I think she can go whistle.

 

Kaye leans on the edge of the table, long legs in front of her as I pour myself a stewed cup from the teapot, just for something to do. I know she’s about to launch into something. She does.

 

‘You know he was just using you, Jean. You were a convenient cover for…’

 

‘For what?’ I frown into my cup.

 

‘Oh never mind.’ Busily, she searches through her voluminous bag, producing a bag of apples, raisins, oatcakes – and finally her cigarettes.

 

‘What happened to the nanny, Kaye? The one that hurt her back?’

 

‘Why do you want to know?’ She fiddles with her cigarettes.

 

‘Because I do. It sounds awful…’

 

‘Scarlett!’ Kaye cries. ‘There you are!’

 

She holds out her arms, but Scarlett hardly rushes into them. Instead she drags herself down, not looking at her mother.

 

‘Darling!’ The woman grabs her daughter. ‘We need to get going. Say thank you to Jean.’

 

‘I don’t want to go back,’ Scarlett mutters.

 

‘Don’t be silly,’ Kaye smiles. ‘I’ve brought you some snacks, but we can stop at McDonalds on the way back as a treat.’

 

‘I don’t want McDonalds.’ She shoves the proffered apple away. ‘I want to stay with Jeanie.’

 

‘Don’t be so stupid, Scarlett.’ Kaye looks furious.

 

‘You’re always welcome, lovey,’ I tell the girl. ‘Wherever I am. Maybe just let’s plan it properly next time.’

 

Now is the time to tell Kaye about the stranger at Ilam. But Scarlett and I gaze at each other, and some kind of understanding passes between us. She’ll be safe once she’s out of here, I’m sure of it.

 

‘I’m sorry you’ve even been involved.’ Kaye stares at me, her blue eyes icy. She pushes a teary Scarlett out of the front door and turns to me again. ‘You – you didn’t know, did you?’

 

‘Know what?’ I feel tearful myself now with frustration. ‘For God’s sake…’

 

Kaye doesn’t answer but propels Scarlett towards her big white car, slowly driving down from where it must have been turning at the top of the hill.

 

Standing in the doorway, I can see Yassine behind the wheel. When I catch his eye he looks away.

 

Scarlett is dragging her heels, turning to talk to me. ‘Jeanie…’ Her mother clasps her arm tighter.

 

‘Thank you,’ Kaye says without looking at me, opening the back passenger door. ‘Get in, Scarlett.’

 

I sense Scarlett weighing up whether or not to make a big scene. In the end, she doesn’t – she just submits to her mother.

 

‘I’ll see you soon,’ I call. I catch my worried neighbour Ruth’s face at the window as they drive off, and I try to smile to reassure her.

 

I’m sure they don’t want trouble in this peaceful town.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

6 p.m.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Marlena’s call finally comes – the call I’ve waited for all day – it brings no relief.