Mum, is it much longer?
Emily stirred awake, rubbing her eyes. The old coach rattled over every bump in the country road, lurching them about. Through the steamed-up window, flashes of hedgerows and quick glimpses of distant sheep flickered by, one after another, giving way to the endless, muted English fields. The sky hung low and sullen, grey and persistent, with the drizzle blurring the countryside into a drab wash of watercolour. Emily shivered and tucked herself into me.
Cold? I wrapped the ends of my long wool scarf around her shoulders, holding her close. Not much further now, if I remember. I havent been to the village in ages. Last time, you were just a bit younger than you are now.
Why are we going? Emily had fully woken up, shifting to sit up on my lap so she could peer into my face.
Because, love, we need somewhere to stay for a while. Theres nowhere else at the moment.
But what about our house? She stared, wide-eyed.
We cant go back, darling.
Because of that? Gently, she traced the bruise on my cheek with her small fingers.
That, and other reasons. Lets not talk about it now, alright? I tried a smile. Lets focus on the good bits. Theres a house and a little bit of garden. Ive no clue how to tend veg or flowers, but weve got until spring to learn, right?
Emily nodded earnestly. Mum?
Yes?
Can I have a kitten? Or maybe a puppy?
Why not both! I ruffled her hair and made sure her hood was tucked in just so. Granny always said a house should have its own little menagerie.
Whats menagerie mean?
Its all the animals on a smallholding. She had a goat, lots of chickens, even a few noisy geese. I was always absolutely terrified of the geese. They were huge and made such a racket! But then, Granny gave me a stick and showed me how to shoo them out to graze by the allotment. And after that, it was the geese that were frightened, not me. I chuckled, and to my relief, Emily laughed toofor the first time in a long while.
The coach jolted again, something clattered at the back, and Emily startled, squeezing her eyes shut.
Youre safe, love, I murmured, gathering her in. Nothing to be frightened of. Were not ever going back.
I stroked her hair as the rain turned heavier, lashing at the British countryside outside. No doubt the old house would be freezing. With a bit of luck, thered be wood for the little stove; if not, I didnt know what Id do. Coming here unprepared wasnt what anyone would call wise, but I had no choice. When I dashed out last night, barely dressed, clutching a sobbing Emily, things happened so fast I didnt realise anything until I found myself cradling her in the juddering coach, England rolling away behind us, bound for a village where my grandmother once livedwhere I lived until I was five.
I never really knew why my mum left me with my granny those first years, only returning to fetch me when I was five. I cant remember ever crying so much as the day Mum whisked me from everything familiar and safe, that old house and its gentle routines.
What are you howling about? shed scolded. Youre moving to the city now, thats your home!
I shook my head and pointed at Grannys house, teetering round the corner out of sight.
Thats my house!
Forget it, Mum snapped, tugging me away briskly.
Thats when I first understood that sometimes, your own strength isnt enough to change anything.
I can only recall flashes of Granny. Warm, workworn hands that still felt gentle. Powdery flour on her apron, soft and inviting for whatever tears or complaints I brought her way. And the eyespale blue, so clear, so full of secret laughter. I inherited them, and so has Emily. Even when times were hard, Grannys eyes held a mischievous twinkle. Shed break into an old folk song, and somehow, everything settled right again.
Enough with the moaning, love. Nobody gets happier for it.
Granny passed away when I was fifteen; Mum didnt once consider taking me back to say goodbye. Perhaps she felt awkward. Our relationship never recovered after that. By then, Mum had met Clive, her new husband, and something in her hardened. I puzzled over it for months until my friend Sarah told me straight.
Shes jealous.
Of who? Clive?
Sarah rolled her eyes. Obviously. Your mum feels old, and, well, youre growing up. Open your eyes, Alice.
I sat, stunned by the bench outside Sarahs, thinking what nonsense it was. My mum, jealous? Of that balding Clive?
Hes never been inappropriate, has he? she asked, gaze sharp.
No! Of course not! I blurted, but as I protested, I remembered the strange looks hed given me while I cooked lunch for the two of us, him home in the middle of the day from his minicab rounds. I suddenly felt queasy.
Sarah squeezed my arm kindly. Come and live at ours, Alice. Mums barely ever home, and its lonely on my own.
Sarahs mum, Mrs. Watts, was always off buying and selling bits and pieces, trying to scrape by. Every time she went away, new clothes for Sarahand often meappeared, knowing Mum sometimes struggled with even the basics. Once she caught me wearing Sarahs newest jeans, said nothing, and just started buying two of everything, telling me off when I dared say thank you.
What, you think I dont know how hard it is? I was a girl once too. Wear what you like. May as well make life a bit easier round here. Shed laugh, hug us both, and disappear off on another trip.
At first I declined Sarahs offer. I had my own home, after all. But a month later, after Clive cornered me in the hallway, whispering things I didnt understand, I left for Sarahs, taking nothing but the Valium Mrs. Watts had in the kitchen, a double dose of which Sarah made me swallow, and a box of expensive Christmas chocolates pilfered from the top shelf.
We need these more, Sarah said, eyes gentle.
When Mrs. Watts returned and saw Id moved in, she hugged me as I sobbed uncontrollably. Im sorry, Alice. Lifes rough sometimes, and some things you cant fix with tears. Time to shape up and look after yourself. No one else will do it for you. You want a decent shot? Work for it. Buckle down, get good marks, out you go, or its straight to workand then, you can kiss university, and the rest, goodbye.
I listened, knuckled down, and Sarah and I soon earned the nickname swots, staying in with our books while others drifted around parks and bus shelters. It worked: we made it to university, both of usdifferent subjects, but the same town. Sarah chose law, I took economics. By our second year, Mrs. Watts opened a shop and took me on.
Get used to it. Youre my right-hand woman. I trust youand nobody else. Watch and learn, Alice: everyone else lies.
By graduation, I was running all three of her shops in Liverpool and several more in the region, drove a car, studied abroad, and finallyfinallyearned a decent wage. Mrs. Watts, now well-groomed and commanding, trusted me implicitly and introduced me to a business partner of hers. He was charming, driven, and somehow, interested in me.
Looking back, I sometimes wonder if that was the moment Mark decided he wanted to break me. He saw in me the stubbornness and self-belief he could never quite muster in himself.
He admired all that at first. When we married, because Id simply fallen for him, everything shifted. My opinions started getting dismissed with a smirk, my plans doubted. Mark wanted a familyinsisted I quit work. I hesitated, reluctant to leave behind something Id fought so hard for, not wanting to let Mrs. Watts down. But when, already three months pregnant, I blacked out driving on the A-road to Chester, scraping the car and terrifying myself, I listened to him at last: nothing was worth endangering my baby.
Alice, take as much leave as you want. Have the baby, do your maternity, come back when youre ready.
Preoccupied with impending motherhood, I nodded, although I knew Id probably never return. Mark became more controlling by the day, covering it all with affection. He genuinely seemed to care: showered me with delicacies, decorated the nursery with the best he could afford, grandest cot, loveliest pramall so long as I played my part, admiring him, staying silent.
Something subtle shifted between usI couldnt pinpoint what, and yet sometimes he was doting, sometimes so cold, appraising me with an odd, chilling stare I only understood much later, one evening channel-hopping, catching a wildlife programmea leopard studying its prey. The look in its eyes matched Marks for a split second. I shivered, switching the telly off.
Our first real argument came when I wanted to name our daughter Emily. We were out for my birthday meal; Sarah and I talked about baby names, and I said Emily was my favourite. Mark broke in abruptly:
Her name will be Olivia. Thats final.
Its a nice name, butOlivia Markson? Doesnt that sound a bit… Sarah watched him carefully; shed never liked him, said he reminded her of her own father, once violent with Mrs. Watts until he drank himself into the path of a lorry. Sarah was six when she learned what hate could mean.
My daughter must have the perfect name and be the perfect girl.
And if she isnt perfect? Sarah pressed.
Shell have to try harder! Mark barked, gripping my shoulder too tight. His glare made me think he might hit Sarah, so I discreetly pinched her under the table, changing the subject fast.
Anyway, what if its a boy, after all? You know they get it wrong, dont they?
What boy? Mark switched, turning a blank gaze on me that made me shrink back.
After, Sarah cornered me in the loo. Is he hitting you?
No! Never! I protested, but deep, deep down, I wondered. Sarah shook her head.
Leave him now, while you can. Next time, youll stay for your daughters sake. I know you. Hell drown the both of you in expensive presents, play Dad of the Year, but wait until either of you does the wrong thing.
At home that night, Mark confronted me. He wanted me to stop seeing Sarah and Mrs. Watts.
Im sick of their interference. Thats the last phone call you answer from Mrs. Watts. Shes not your employer anymore. Focus on the baby!
No. Sarah and Mrs. Watts are my family. You cant change that.
He darkened, clenched his fists and swung for me. Terrified, I staggered backwarddown a half flight of stairs Id once polished, dreaming of family.
Everything afterwards was a blurthe ambulance, the theatre, the hands steadying me as I tumbled. Someones calm voice in the A&E.
Dont fret, darling. Youll be alright.
Emily was born a month early; Mark prowled outside, pestering doctors. I refused to see him, passing a note to staff, asking for privacy.
When I was finally discharged, Mark was waiting outside with an obscene bouquet and a band of balloons. He went down on one knee as I stepped out with Emily in my arms.
Im sorry, Alice. Forgive meboth of you.
Mrs. Watts was there, too, whisking us away when Sarah came down with flu. She only had to look at me and nod. Its your decision. But Im here.
Things unravelled just as Sarah predicted. I became a servant in our own homeMarks interest in Emily waned, but he demanded an accounting each evening of every penny I spent on her. My bank cards were soon missing; when I questioned Mark, he shrugged.
What do you need them for? If you want something, tell me.
After that, I called Sarah, frantic.
So, youve lost your ID? Dont let him know; I can help you get replacements. But pay the fine, say nothing, alright?
I was ready to leave, but then Emily took ill. The doctors couldnt explain ither immune system just seemed to give up. I did whatever I could, day after day, and Mark hovered, criticising, every so often lashing out physically when he was displeased. Terrified for Emily and with nowhere to turn, I endured, knowing his money and influence kept us both afloat.
At last, Emily improvedenough that we were allowed to travel and take the air by the sea. The only peace I knew was out of that house, now just a mausoleum for dreams.
Mark demanded I have another child, but I refused, waiting until Emily was completely well.
The day everything broke, wed just returned from a health retreat. Mark scooped Emily up, then threw out, She needs a nanny. Youre not up to it anymore.
Since when? Why? I reached for Emily.
Mark handed her over, then struck me, once, twice. Emily burst into tears.
Did I ask what you think? he hissed.
No… I answered.
Thats right. And if you argue, youll never see her again. Understood?
Yes.
Dont hurt her! Emily suddenly shouted, trembling but fierce.
What did you say? Mark turned to her, then shot me a venomous look. When did you turn her against me?
I didnt
Youre horrid! Emily glared, defiant.
Mark moved as if to grab her. Youll regret that
Dont touch her! My voice was steady and low.
Mark paused, staring at me for a long moment.
Go see to your daughter. Tomorrow Ill decide what to do with you both.
That night, feeling like the tragic heroine of a soap, I found the old sleeping pills the GP gave me years before. With any luck, theyd still work. Mark, thinking I was full of remorse, downed the tea I offered and listened indulgently as I praised him, calling him the best father for Emily. Once he was snoring at his computer, I packed up the essentials, scooped Emilystill in pyjamasout of bed, and hurried out, heart in mouth. If Mark woke, Id never get out. We left half-dressed, Emily in my coat, feet in boots with no socks.
Within half an hour, we were standing on my mothers doorstepthe same council flat Id grown up in.
What are you doing here? Mum glared, sleep-mussed and cross. Then she spotted the bruise on my cheek and Emily dozing in my arms. You cant stay; not enough room, and Im not getting involved.
She closed the door to my old bedroom so as not to wake my younger brothers.
I know, Mum. I just need a bit of time to find my feet.
You want my advice? Go back to Mark. He adores Emily, spoils you both. Or maybe not anymore, judging by your face What on earth are you planning next?
I need to get far away, somewhere hell leave us alone. Could I borrow your phone?
She left, and I called Sarah. She told me to stay put; Mrs. Watts would get us to the authorities and then the station.
So, I told Mum, its sorted.
Where will you go?
Im not sure. Justaway. Ill manage.
Mum sighed and fetched an old keyring from the drawer.
The cottage is still standing, I believe. Your grandmothers old place. Here are the deeds; get them transferred into your name.
Thank you, Mum Mum?
Yes?
Why didnt you take me to see Granny one last time?
She tightened her dressing gown, her face folding inward. Because I was ashamed, Alice. And she left the kitchen, shutting the door softly behind her.
