My Husband's Wife(52)

‘I don’t know,’ I say miserably to Ed now. ‘I can’t think properly. Not with this case going on.’

It’s true. If anything, seeing my parents this Christmas, revisiting the empty stable, has made me more determined than ever to go ahead with this. To win. To play my part in delivering justice. It’s more important than my own personal life. After Daniel, it has to be.

Then I look down at my husband’s hands, which are now holding mine. And I drop them.

‘I’ll give you an answer when it’s over. Sorry.’





20


Carla


Carla watched Mamma cry all through Christmas Day. She cried when she unwrapped Larry’s present and she cried when her fingers couldn’t put it on.

At first, Carla tried to comfort her. ‘Let me help you with the clasp.’

But then, when Mamma looked in the mirror at the silver locket around her slim brown neck, she cried even more.

Carla gave up. I wonder if the Queen cries, she asked herself as she sat cross-legged in front of the television, watching this really old woman with grey hair and a nice smile talking about ‘the importance of family values’.

Carla wouldn’t have bothered changing channels for the Queen’s speech if it wasn’t for her new friend at school. ‘We always watch it,’ Maria had told Carla when they were tucking into the toffees which one of the gappy-toothed nuns had handed out after the end-of-term carol service.

Sometimes Carla guiltily found herself wishing that she belonged to Maria’s family. But at least, thanks to her friend, she now had a Kitty. She had the right television programme on. Now all she needed was a mother who didn’t have a red, blotchy face from weeping.

If Larry didn’t make Mamma so unhappy, everything would be all right, Carla told herself as she watched pictures of the Queen’s reassuring face.

She was sure something would happen soon. She just had to be patient.

‘Do you think Ed and Lily will be back now?’ she asked Mamma through the sobs.

Her mother shook her head. If Larry saw Mamma now, he wouldn’t think she was very pretty with all those black smudges under her eyes.

‘They are still with their families,’ Mamma said. ‘Just as we should be with ours.’

Carla thought of the sparkly Christmas card of baby Jesus that they had sent to Italy and the much hoped-for card that had not been sent back in return.

Mamma burst out into fresh tears. ‘It is all my fault …’

‘Why, Mamma?’

‘It just is.’ Then her mother’s eye fell on the second package under the tree. ‘Are you not going to open Larry’s present to you? I took it out of the bin, just in case.’

Most of her didn’t want to. But another part was curious …

‘Go on,’ urged Mamma. Her eyes grew brighter. Carla knew what she was thinking. If it was a good present, it meant Larry loved her mother more than his wife and the girl they had seen through the window.

The paper was hard to undo. Someone had tied it up tightly with sticky tape as though the giver had not wanted her to get in. Eventually, she wiggled out the thing inside. It was a box. A long slim box. And inside that was …

‘A watch,’ gasped Mamma. ‘How kind of Larry!’ Now there was laughter through the tears. ‘It is expensive, yes? What does the card say?’

Carla looked at it and then put it in her pocket.

‘What was on it?’ persisted Mamma.

‘Nothing. Just Happy Christmas.’

But Carla’s insides were hot. The words had been carefully written in black pen so there was no mistake.

Be a good girl.

Larry was warning her to behave. But it was he who needed to be careful.

‘The phone!’ gasped Mamma. ‘Quick! Before it stops. It will be Larry. You go. Please. I need to calm myself. Talk to him first. Thank him for your watch. Then I will speak.’

Reluctantly, Carla moved towards it. Slowly, slowly, she picked up the receiver. ‘Yes?’

‘Is your mother there?’ Larry’s voice was quiet, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear.

‘Don’t ring again,’ she whispered so Mamma would not hear. Then she slammed down the receiver.

‘It was not him?’ Mamma’s voice rose in a mournful crescendo.

‘I think it was the same person who has rung before,’ said Carla, looking down at the carpet. If she stared closely enough, she could make a lion face out of the maroon pattern.

Mamma shivered. ‘The one who says nothing?’

‘Yes.’

The face in the carpet stared up at her. Liar! Liar! it mouthed.

Then Mamma stopped crying and put her arm around her. ‘You must not be worried, little one. This is my fault. Next time, I will pick up the phone.’

But it didn’t ring again. Not for another two whole days. Two days when Carla and Kitty and the lion face on the carpet thought they might have got away with it.

And then it happened.

‘Why did you lie to your mother?’

Larry’s eyes were shiny and hard. They reminded her of the knife that Mamma used to slice bread. Usually Mamma made her own bread because the ‘shop stuff’ was ‘not fit for a dog’. Carla loved the smell. She tried to recall it now to make herself feel better. But it wouldn’t come.