Let Me Lie(74)

‘Hi, I’m Mark.’ He extends a hand, then shakes his head and laughs at his formality, stepping forward instead to pull Mum into a warm embrace. ‘It’s great to meet you.’

I breathe out.

‘Caroline and I had a stupid falling-out,’ Mum says, when we’re installed in the sitting room, glasses of wine in hand. ‘I can’t even remember what it was about now, but we didn’t speak for years and …’ She breaks off, and I think she’s dried up, but she swallows hard. ‘And now it’s too late.’

Mark rests an elbow on the arm of the sofa. His thumb on the base of his chin, he rubs his forefinger lightly along his top lip. Listening. Considering. Does he think it odd that ‘Angela’ should suddenly turn up in Eastbourne, a year after my mother’s death? My eyes flick between Mark and Mum. She meets my gaze for a split second, then drops her eyes away. Looks for a tissue.

‘We can’t change the past,’ Mark says gently. ‘We can only change the way we feel about it, and the way it affects our future.’

‘You’re right.’ She blows her nose and tucks the tissue up her sleeve in such a familiar gesture it’s a moment before I can breathe again. Rita is sitting as close to Mum as it is possible to get, leaning so heavily that if Mum moved her legs, the dog would topple over.

‘You’re honoured,’ Mark says. ‘She’s usually wary of strangers.’

I daren’t catch Mum’s eye.

‘It’s lovely to meet someone from Anna’s side. I know Bill, of course, and Caroline’s goddaughter, Laura, who’s practically family.’ He gives me a sidelong glance, winking to neutralise whatever’s coming next. ‘Another one for the top table.’

‘You’re getting married?’

‘No,’ I say, and laugh because that’s what Mark’s doing. I shift in my seat.

‘Maybe you can persuade her, Angela – I’m not having much luck.’ It’s a throwaway comment, meant as a joke.

‘But you’re so young, Anna!’

‘I’m twenty-six.’ As if she didn’t know that. Hadn’t carried me for nine months when she was younger than I am now.

‘You shouldn’t rush into anything.’

There’s an uncomfortable silence. Mark coughs.

‘Are you married, Angela?’

‘Separated.’ She glances at me. ‘It didn’t work out.’

Another awkward pause follows, while Mum and I think about the way that separation came about, and Mark thinks about … what? The face of a good counsellor gives nothing away.

‘How long are you planning on being in Eastbourne?’ I ask.

‘Not long. Till New Year’s Day, that’s all. Enough time to see the people who matter, and avoid those who don’t.’ She laughs.

Mark grins. ‘Where are you staying?’

A red flush colours Mum’s cheeks. ‘At the Hope.’ Mark’s face is impassive, but Mum’s embarrassment intensifies. ‘Things are a bit tight and … anyway, it’s only for a few nights. It’s fine.’

‘Why don’t you stay with us?’ He looks at me for confirmation, even though the offer’s already been made. ‘We’ve got plenty of room, and it would be lovely for Ella to spend time with you.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t—’

‘We insist. Don’t we?’

I daren’t look at Mum to see if the alarm in her eyes mirrors my own. She thought she was safe. She thought Dad would never track her down. If he knows she’s here …

‘Of course,’ I hear myself saying. Because what explanation could I possibly give for saying no?

‘In fact, you’d be doing me a favour. I’ve got some appointments I can’t cancel, and it would be great to know I’m not leaving the girls on their own.’

He means me. He’s worried I’m having some kind of breakdown. He’s not that far off the truth.

‘Well, if you’re sure …’

‘We’re sure.’ Mark speaks for us both.

‘Then I’d love to. Thank you.’

Mark turns to me. ‘Maybe Laura could come over. Do you know Laura, Angela?’

Her face is white, despite the pasted-on smile. ‘I … I don’t think we’ve met.’

I make my smile match theirs. Tell myself it’s all going to be fine. Mark will be at work. I can tell him Laura’s got yet another new job, or that she’s away with friends. As long as I can keep Mum indoors, out of sight, there’s no reason why anyone should suspect a thing.

And Dad?

My pulse picks up.

I try telling myself he won’t want to come here, where people might recognise him. Mum was hiding out up north – that’s where he found her. He’ll be looking for her there.

Except …

Suicide? Think again.

He sent the card. He threw the brick. He knows what Mum did. He knew I’d been to the police. Somehow, he can see exactly what’s happening in this house. If he doesn’t already know Mum’s at Oak View, I have no doubt he soon will.

My pulse quickens. Did Dad ring the house because he thinks Mum’s here? Was he hoping she’d pick up? Give him the confirmation he needs?