‘All kids leave their mothers when they start school!’
‘I know but . . . Dad had also left her. And her parents. I asked Grandma once why Mum never came on the visits with us. She said Mum had betrayed them and it wasn’t something she could forgive. Did they ever speak to her again after she ran off with Dad?’
Ellie shrugged but she didn’t think so. She wanted to know for certain, wanted to ask questions that would take away some of the shock. She wanted to ask her mother. Ellie was suddenly overwhelmed with a crushing sense of abandonment as she realized she’d never know the whole truth.
My mum hurt me. The thought kept on going round and round in her mind. And yet the loss was almost unbearable; Ellie couldn’t reconcile the two different people in her head: the one who’d deliberately made her ill with the one who’d been so supportive, who’d encouraged her when she was low – right on into adulthood, even as Abby was racing ahead in life. Her mother – that beautiful, wonderful woman who’d been by her side her whole life – was dead, and it was her fault.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Abby.
‘What for?’
‘If I’d said something, told a teacher or something . . .’
Ellie stiffened. As much as she wanted to lay some of the blame at Abby’s feet, she couldn’t really. She had to remember that Abby had been a child too.
‘You were only nine. You couldn’t have understood.’
‘I was then,’ said Abby quietly.
Ellie looked at her sharply. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I saw her again.’
A deep, sickening feeling was nestling in Ellie’s stomach. ‘When?’
‘Two years later. When I’d just started secondary school. When you were eight.’
Ellie’s mouth dropped open. ‘You what?’
‘I’m so sorry. I said to Mum it didn’t seem right. I told her I didn’t like it. She thought I was going to tell someone.’
‘And did you?’
‘No. I had no idea of the enormity, the severity of what she was doing. I was a kid. And anyway, she told me it would stop.’
‘What? And you believed her?’
‘Well, yes. I mean, she did. Stop.’
‘But how did you know she would? What if she’d carried on? Maybe she kept on poisoning me and you didn’t even know?’
‘I’m sure she didn’t. You got better, you stopped going to the doctor’s—’
‘But that’s not the point! I was already damaged. I needed help.’ Ellie was shouting now, crying with despair. ‘I thought I was stupid. That I’d never catch up. I thought I’d get ill again. I always thought that. Don’t you see? I could’ve been different! If you’d said something!’ She rained her fists down on Abby’s shoulder.
‘Stop it!’ said Abby, trying to simultaneously push Ellie’s hands away and hold on to the steering wheel. ‘I’m sorry!’
Ellie heard the apology but instead of soothing her, it inflamed her further. There was something so inadequate about those words, something that was so disproportionate to the years of misery that she’d suffered. She continued to rain blows down on Abby. ‘You just carried on, looking out for yourself. But what about me? I could’ve been differen—’
The noise was like an explosion, the deafening bang of flattened steel. Ellie lunged forward, the seat belt slicing across her shoulder, and her face hit the white pillow with a force that winded her, and then everything was quiet.
She lay there for a moment, gulping for breath, panicking that she couldn’t take in any oxygen; then, as the airbag deflated, her lungs seemed to regain control.
‘Shit!’ said Abby, unbuckling and wrestling with her door.
Ellie looked up and through the broken windscreen saw stones strewn across the bonnet. The car was on the wrong side of the road, a disintegrated wall splattered over it. She extricated herself from her seat, went outside to join Abby. The whole front end on the driver’s side was crunched in, a tangle of steel and exposed innards. The two sisters gazed at it.
‘That looks bad,’ said Ellie.
‘You reckon?’ snapped Abby. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing, attacking me like that?’
‘I’m sorry.’
Abby cut her a fierce look and went back to the car. Ellie watched as her sister brushed the broken glass off the driver’s seat, then got in and attempted to start the engine. It turned over sluggishly, then not at all.
‘Brilliant,’ said Abby, smacking the steering wheel. ‘Just brilliant.’
Ellie walked over and stood next to Abby by the driver’s side. ‘I said I was sorry.’
‘Sorry isn’t going to make this car start!’
‘You’ve cut yourself,’ said Ellie, pointing at her sister’s hand. ‘Here.’ She pulled out a pack of cosmetic wipes from her bag, peeled one off and handed it through the open window to Abby. Abby hesitated, then took it and dabbed at her hand. The cut wasn’t deep and was already clotting.
‘Why do you buy these things when water does just as good a job?’ said Abby, of the wipe.
Ellie bristled; she knew what was coming. ‘Because you never know when you might be in a car crash and a bottle of water isn’t readily available?’
‘It’s another example,’ said Abby, still dabbing, ‘of not being smart with your money.’
For God’s sake! Ellie could feel the irritation rising up in her. Even now, right here, straight after an accident, Abby could put her down. She wrestled to find a comeback, but could think of none.
‘Give it back.’
Abby looked up. ‘What?’
Ellie held out her hand. ‘Give it back.’
‘What, this?’ Abby was waving the soiled wipe in disbelief.
‘Yes, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to have it.’ Ellie leaned over to grab it but Abby pulled away.
‘You’re not serious.’
‘Deadly.’
‘Don’t be stupid.’
‘That wipe saved your bacon and all you can do is . . . complain and not recognize when spending a few quid can actually have a profound effect on your life.’
Abby was trying not to smile. ‘Profound?’
‘You know what I mean.’ Ellie pulled a face at her sister. Then sighed; it was all too exhausting. ‘What do we do now?’
Abby considered. ‘The car’s fucked,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ agreed Ellie.
Abby got out and, shutting the driver’s door, she looked up and down the road. Then she walked to the back of the car. She popped the boot and took out the holdall and suitcase she’d put in there earlier.
‘I guess we walk,’ said Abby. ‘See if we can find a village or something.’
Ellie nodded, then the two sisters, the late sun on their backs, continued along the road.
SIXTEEN
‘I think I can see a house,’ said Ellie, pointing up ahead. They had been going for forty minutes and she was ready for a break. Her right leg was tingling with pins and needles and she knew she needed to rest before it became too difficult to walk.