The Library of Lost and Found(43)

“Read me. I’m yours.”





17


Puppets





Betty, 1978


Two years ago, on Betty’s birthday, she, Zelda, Martha and Lilian enjoyed a fantastic, too-brief, forty minutes at the funfair, sharing laughs and toffee apples. And when they crept back across the sand, all hand in hand, they shared secret smiles as they waited for Thomas to wake up.

The girls did as they promised and didn’t mention the trip to their dad. Betty thought everything was fine, until Thomas bought a copy of the Maltsborough Times. “There’s a very interesting story about the fair in here, Betty,” he said with a smile.

She knew from the singsong of his voice that something wasn’t right. His smile was too wide and fixed. “Why don’t you tell me about it?” she replied, feeling her cheeks beginning to glow.

Thomas placed the paper down on the table and tapped it with his finger. “I’ll leave this here. You can take a look at it yourself. Then you might understand how disappointed and hurt I am by your actions. Have you forgotten how much I helped you, when we first met? My family warned me about marrying in haste and I wanted to prove them wrong. But, well…” He looked down and shook his head. “You’ve let me down, and you’ve let yourself down, too.”

Betty waited until he’d left the room. Her hand shook as she pulled the newspaper towards her. There was a photo of Zelda, Martha and Lilian, sitting on a wall outside the hall of mirrors. Her mother gave a gap-toothed grin. The date was displayed on a wooden board behind them.

Knitting a hand into her hair, Betty hissed. “Bloody hell, Mum.”

Why the hell had she let a photographer take a snap? It must have been when Betty went to retrieve her purse after leaving it at the toffee apple stall. “The trip was supposed to be our secret.”

She glanced up nervously at the closed door. Behind it, Thomas would be waiting for her explanation. She’d have to take full responsibility for the visit to the fair, or perhaps she could say that Zelda insisted.

Now she had to face the consequences of her actions. It might result in a day or two of stony silence, or a cut to her household budget.

Still, it was only what she deserved, she supposed. If Thomas acted a little too controlling sometimes, then she shouldn’t be surprised.

After what happened before they married, she only had herself to blame.



* * *



Betty thought she saw Daniel today. He was down on the beach, standing next to the mermaid statue. His hair was mussed up from the wind and his cheeks red from the cold. She took a few steps down the slope towards him, his name on her lips. But she stopped herself from calling him, knowing it was no use. He wouldn’t see her or might not want to know her. After all this time, she should let things be.

Then the man turned and laughed, and she saw it wasn’t him.

Pressing her hands to the knot of dismay in her stomach, Betty twisted on her heels and walked back towards the town.

When she passed a group of young women heading down to the beach, she couldn’t help but feel envious. They wore the new long floral skirts and blouses with big collars. She still sported the dress and shoes Thomas bought for her birthday, two years ago.

The women were only a little younger than she was. No doubt they were going to chat and have fun, and she was married with daughters aged twelve and eight. She felt so much older. Ducking her head down, Betty looked at her watch. She said she’d be home within half an hour and picked up pace.

Ever since the day Thomas saw the photo in the newspaper, he questioned where she was, who she was with and how long she’d be. He did it pleasantly, always with a smile, but she was under no doubt that he no longer trusted her.

When Betty arrived back home, she found Martha lying on her stomach on the rug in the front room. She moved her legs back and fro as if kicking through water. Her books and pens lay scattered all over the floor as she wrote in her notepad.

“Oh, Martha.” Betty sighed. “Look at this mess. I want everything to be perfect for when your father gets home.”

“It’s not mess, it’s work.”

“Whatever it is, it needs tidying up.”

Martha swung her plait off her shoulder. “Dad’s not even here. He’s gone for a walk with Lilian. Why do we always have to run around after him? It’s like he’s the king of the castle or something.”

Betty saw the fiery spark in her eyes. Her adolescent hormones had kicked in recently, bringing bouts of sullenness and uncooperativeness. However, when Martha was with Zelda, she was like a small girl again, sweet and smiley. She often heard her own mother’s words when Martha spoke. “Now, come on. Be nice…” she prompted.

“I know that Dad doesn’t like Nana.”

“You’re being silly. Of course he does.”

Martha rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t been over to the house for weeks. Whenever she buys us something, we’re not allowed to have it.”

“Some of your grandma’s presents are…inappropriate.”

“They’re always fun. And you’re not.”

Betty held her breath. She smoothed down the front of her dress, not in the mood for a battle of wills. “If you’re so fed up here, you should have gone for a walk, too.”