Friend Request(68)

‘I’m frightened, Esther. I just want to know what happened to Maria; what happened to Sophie.’ I want to know how much of it is my fault; if I’m next.

‘Shouldn’t you leave it to the police?’

She doesn’t know I haven’t told the police about the friend request from Maria. There’s so much she doesn’t know that it overwhelms me. I realise I have no idea what I’m doing here.

‘Yes, you’re probably right. Look, Esther, I’ve got to go, I need to get back to pick Henry up from school.’

‘Oh. Right, OK. I’ll see you sometime… maybe?’

‘Yes, that’d be lovely.’ I sound fake, as if I’m leaving a dinner party where I’ve had a really terrible time but am putting a brave face on it. ‘Bye then.’

I turn back the way we’ve come and stride along, trying to look purposeful. The wind, which had been pushing us along from behind is now biting into my face, making my eyes water.

I am thinking about Tim, at the top of the school drive. Tim, whose adolescence was rocked and the fabric of his life changed for ever by the disappearance of his sister; Tim, who must have worked so hard just to attain an ordinary life: a home, a wife, a plump-cheeked baby. How has he carried on? How do you get over something like that? Or has he never had to get over it? Has he been pretending to grieve for a sister who is alive and well, and living under a false identity? And if that is the case, then what has she told him? How much does he know?

Chapter 27

He may have saved her, but that doesn’t mean he has to keep on saving her. He tells her to stay quiet, not to rock the boat, live the life she’s got. But she’s not living, not really. She’s just existing, getting through one day, and then another. But eventually those days will run out and what will she have to show for them?

Sometimes she wonders if maybe she could survive on her own. Throw off this dark, heavy cloak of secrecy that she has been wearing – just put it down and walk away, become the person she should have been all along.

Could she let someone else in? He knows the truth, and maybe that should be enough for her; not to be alone with it. She never could have got through it without him, she knows that much. Her faithful companion. Her partner in crime, forever complicit in the events of the night that changed everything.

She has lived her life in shadow, running and hiding. Yes, she can put a good face on it when she needs to, but inside she is still that girl. She’s torn between the gut-twisting fear of anybody knowing who she really is, and the contrasting desire to be truly seen. Isn’t that what we all want, really?

She wants to step out into the light and live the life she should have lived. She wants to be heard. She wants to be known.

Chapter 28

2016
The children who regularly get picked up by their stay-at-home parents at three o’clock are all lined up outside the classroom. Henry, of course, is not there and Mrs Hopkins looks at me in confusion.

‘I finished work early today,’ I lie. In fact I needed to see him, came straight from the South Bank to pick him up early. ‘Can I pop my head in…?’ I point at the classroom. There’s something about the way the after-school club children are sitting so neatly at their desks, coats on, bags on their tables in front of them, awaiting their next instruction, that pulls at my heartstrings. They’re so small and already they’ve had to learn to conform. Henry is conversing quietly and earnestly with the girl next to him. It’s the boy sitting on his other side that sees me first, Henry’s friend Jasper. He starts tapping Henry frantically on the arm.

‘Henry. Henry! Your mummy is here.’

Henry turns and his entire face lights up, fireworks going off behind his eyes.

‘Mummy! What are you doing here?’ He clearly wants to run to me, but looks anxiously at Miss Jones, the new teaching assistant, for permission.

‘I finished work early today. Come on, shall we go to the park?’ Again he looks to Miss Jones who smiles.

‘Bye, Henry. See you tomorrow.’

As we cross the playground a large woman looms aggressively over the teacher in the neighbouring classroom. I’ve seen this mother before with her clutch of overweight, unruly children. This time it’s the turn of the solitary boy amongst her brood, who stands beside her, belligerently kicking at his school bag on the ground next to him. She’s obviously had the dreaded ‘Can I have a word?’ from the teacher at pickup time. Of course in her eyes her little angel can do no wrong, so she’s not taking it too well, stabbing a finger towards the teacher’s face.

At the park, Henry shouts with unabashed delight as I push him higher and higher on the swings. His joy is compounded by seeing his friend Dylan coming through the yellow gates with his mum, Olivia.

‘Dylaaaan! I’m on the swings!’

Dylan comes running over. ‘Come and play on the climbing frame,’ he instructs.

‘No, come on the swings!’ Henry calls.

‘No,’ says Dylan sternly. ‘Climbing frame.’

‘OK. Stop me, Mummy,’ Henry says, so I slow the swing and they run off together.

‘Aw bless, they’re lovely little friends, aren’t they?’ says Olivia, watching them fondly. I was getting more of a dictator vibe from Dylan but I don’t burst her bubble.

‘Shall we get a cuppa?’ she continues.