Just Like the Other Girls(32)
Kathryn’s shoulders sag under the weight of her anxiety. She wishes she had someone to talk to. Really talk to. Elspeth had insisted on sending both her grandsons to a private school and paying for it, much to Ed’s disapproval. Kathryn had got to know a few of the other mums, but since the boys went up to the seniors they’ve caught the bus home so even those friendships have fizzled out. And she can’t talk to her mother about any of it. Elspeth already thinks her grandsons are wayward and undisciplined. She’ll only judge and make Kathryn feel like a bad mother.
Daisy, oblivious to Kathryn’s mounting irritation, hovers by the till, still droning on about this new boyfriend.
‘Daisy,’ Kathryn snaps, when she can’t bear it any longer. ‘It’s great that you’ve met someone but can you please remember to open up at nine if I ask you to?’
Hurt flickers on the girl’s heavily made-up face. ‘Sure. Of course. I’m really sorry. It was a one-off.’
‘Good. And please can I remind you not to use the premises after hours to entertain your boyfriends. This isn’t a knocking shop.’
An uncomfortable silence falls between them, and after a few minutes of Daisy slurping her coffee, she moves away to the other side of the shop. Kathryn sits where she is for a while, feeling mildly guilty for snapping at the girl, and remembers the paperwork that needs sorting. Daisy turns on the radio and jigs about to some pop song that Kathryn doesn’t recognize as she bubble-wraps a painting that the buyers are due to collect today.
Kathryn stands up. She needs to get out of here. ‘I’m going to check in with the other stores,’ she calls. Daisy nods but doesn’t say anything. Kathryn doesn’t bother with her coat or bag, mainly because she doesn’t want to have to walk past Daisy to get them. She’s not in the mood for small-talk. The arcade is covered anyway.
Kathryn closes the door to the gallery behind her and is just about to head towards the antiques shop, which is only a few doors down, when she notices her mother and Una ambling towards her, deep in conversation. Her mother is dressed in her smart Burberry coat and Una is wearing her Julie Christie fur hat. They haven’t seen her and she watches them, heads bent together, arms linked. Elspeth is laughing at something Una is saying and a hard ball of jealousy lodges in Kathryn’s chest. Will she be cast off too? The inheritance that she desperately hopes will transform her life one day and get her and Ed out of debt recedes in front of her eyes. Those girls, she thinks, as she darts into a card shop before they see her, are like bindweed: they look pretty but they’re deadly, entangling themselves around the other flowers, eventually strangling them. And it doesn’t matter how many times they are cut down, another always grows in its place.
I’m not going to let anybody stand in my way. Certainly not you. You with your youth and your beauty. You, who beguiles that old witch. I’ve been planning this for a long time. And you are my prey. I’ve watched you hanging out with your tarty friend, her short skirts and her fake hair. I’ve watched you sitting together in your favourite café, or your local bar. I even know where she lives. Courtney. Common Courtney, with the loud laugh and the big brows. Although she’s not a patch on you. But I expect you know that. Oh, yes. I know everything about you. And when the time is right I’ll step from the shadows and show you exactly who and what I am.
14
Una
‘Wait! So you’re saying she threatened you?’
Courtney sounds incredulous on the phone and I lower my voice even though it’s just me and Elspeth in the house and Elspeth went to bed over an hour ago. After the awkward experience in the café we went home and fell back into our usual routine, as though nothing had happened. I made sure not to ask any more questions, just listened when Elspeth wanted to talk, my heart lifting when she suggested we begin our crocheting. As we worked she opened up to me, about her husband Huw and how adrift she’d felt after he died, although she didn’t mention Viola. ‘You know, you spend so long with someone that you’re not even sure if you love them in the end or if it’s just companionship,’ she’d said cryptically. ‘It was the done thing back then. Marry and have children. If I had my time again, my choices might have been different.’ She didn’t elaborate and I felt I couldn’t ask. And then she changed the subject, telling me she had theatre tickets for a play at the Hippodrome that evening. It was a bit stuffy, but Elspeth enjoyed it and it was good to have an opportunity to dress up. I tried to look as conservative as possible in black trousers and a satin shirt. She ordered a taxi to drop us off at the entrance and I was surprised when we were shown to our seats in one of the boxes, with a great view of the stage.
‘I don’t know,’ I reply, moving a pile of clothes I’d discarded earlier to the end of the bed. ‘It did sound a bit threatening but she’s been lovely to me since.’ I tell her about the crocheting and the play. I lie back against the headboard. The curtains are closed, the only light coming from my bedside lamp. ‘Why would you deny your daughter’s existence?’
‘I don’t like the sound of that woman. Maybe you should move back in here. Get your old job back.’
I sigh. ‘I need the money. And you have Kris living with you now. Anyway, she’s harmless enough. I mean, she’s old. She’s not exactly a threat, is she? I’m not saying she murdered Jemima or anything. When she wants to be, she can be really kind.’ Although she still hasn’t given me my T-shirt back. When Carole – a short, dark-haired woman in her forties – came in to clean yesterday I asked her if she’d washed it and she didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.