I emptied the entire bottle down the sink. Even the smell of it turned my stomach. As the last of it swirled down the plughole I saw Abi’s car pull up outside. She saw me at the kitchen window and waved. The back door of the car opened and Rose and Michael climbed out. The rain was easing off a bit. Abi didn’t get out, just waved again and smiled, before driving off. She must have passed Margaret’s car on the way. I wondered whether she knew about the visit. Maybe that was why she didn’t come to the door herself.
The empty wine bottle clattered as I dropped it into the bin. I knew I should have put it in the recycling, but throwing it in the bin seemed more symbolic to me — and that was what I was after.
I was furious with Michael, embarrassed on behalf of Rosie, and utterly ashamed that I hadn’t noticed.
He’s been in trouble a fair bit over the past couple of weeks.
I felt as though it was as much my fault as it was Michael’s, but he had to be told. There was no excuse for fighting.
I opened the front door just as the kids got to it. Rosie rang the doorbell anyway.
I gave a smile and rubbed my eyebrow. Damned itch.
‘Hello, Mum,’ Rose said. ‘Are you feeling any better today?’
I told her I was. Much better.
Michael mumbled “hello” and walked past me to the living-room. I heard the telly come to life as I hung up Rose’s coat.
‘Have you got any homework today?’ I asked her.
‘I think so,’ she said. ‘Only a little bit.’
‘Well if you go up to your room and get it done straight away, we’ll do something nice for tea, OK?’
‘Maccy D’s?’ she said.
‘We’ll see.’
‘Does Michael have to do his now too?’
‘I’m just going to go and talk to him about it now. So up you go. Quick as you can, OK?’
As she charged upstairs she shouted back down.
‘Maccy D’s please.’
Michael didn’t look up as Rose ran through. Nor as I came and sat down in the armchair opposite the sofa where he had slouched. I reached for the remote and switched the TV off.
‘I was watching that,’ he said.
He still looked tired. But I could see he was agitated too. Full of energy, but too exhausted to do anything with it. He lifted his chin, looked like he was preparing for a fight. With me.
‘Have you got anything you want to tell me?’ I said.
‘What do you mean,’ he said. Flicking his eyes to the blank TV screen.
‘Look at me, Michael!’
He looked. Shocked.
‘What happened at school today?’
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Anyway, what do you mean?’
‘How’s Harry?’ I said.
Silence.
‘Michael, what’s going on? You know it’s wrong to fight. And this isn’t even the first time. It’s not like you. What happened?’
‘They’ve all been horrible to me at school,’ he said. ‘Calling me names and things. Even Harry.’
‘Mike, you know that’s what happens at school. Name-calling isn’t something you should fight about. You know that. Me and your dad have always told you not to worry if that sort of thing goes on.’
‘It’s everyone,’ he said. ‘All the time.’
‘Mike you should have come to me, or Dad. If you had spoken to us about it we could have sorted it all out for you. You’ve always come to us in the past. That’s why where so good as a family, we all talk to each other about things.’
He went to say something and stopped himself.
‘What?’ I said.
‘Nothing!’
‘Mikey, talk to me. That’s what I’m here for.’
He looked me in the eye now.
‘That’s just it,’ he said. ‘You’re not here. Since you got attacked it’s like you haven’t been here at all.’
Tears filled his eyes. He tried to wipe them away with the back of his hand.
‘You and Dad,’ he said. ‘It’s like you’ve all gone quiet. I know you’re here, in the house, but it’s not like before. We aren’t all talking to each other. Dad doesn’t talk to you, you don’t talk to Dad. And no one seems to be talking to us.’
I knew he meant Rose and him. And I knew he was right. My eyes were stinging. He spotted the tears and it made his worse.
‘They were all being horrible about you, Mum. They were saying you were ugly. Calling you scarface, saying you had horrible marks on your face and that you would always be ugly now.’
He asked me if I thought you were still beautiful.
‘Even Harry said it. He was my friend, Mum. And even he said it. ‘I’m sorry that he had to go to hospital. But he shouldn’t have been saying those things about you. None of them should.’
I held my arms out to Michael and he virtually leapt from the sofa to me. I held him tight, hugged him. We both sobbed.
The third stair creaked.
‘What’s wrong?’ Rose said.
‘Come here, darling,’ I said. ‘Everything is fine.’
‘Why are you both crying?’
Michael immediately tried to pull away from me. Nothing could be worse than crying in front of your little sister. Especially if you are hugging Mum at the same time. I held onto him with one arm and reached out to Rose with the other. She joined us in the hug, a look of bewilderment on her face.
‘I’m so sorry I’ve not been myself,’ I said. ‘You kids and Dad are everything to me. I couldn’t have got through any of this if it weren’t for you guys, and I haven’t been there for you. I’m so sorry.’
‘You have been here, Mum,’ Rose said.
Michael looked at her. She stared back.
‘You’re always here,’ she said.
‘Since the accident I’ve had so much on my mind, that I just haven’t been the same. And there’s no excuses for it. We’re an island, us Marsdens, and we all protect each other. If ever I go quiet again — tell me. Better still — tickle me.’
I squeezed them both around the middle. Both of them squirmed. They both knew what was coming.
The tickling was just what we all needed. I wished that Neil had been there for it too.
It felt as though it had been pouring with rain, and now the sun was out, drying up all the puddles, warming everyone through.
But even during the tickling I had seen a dark cloud. Full of something bad.
As we had tickled each other, above the squeals and giggling, I had felt my arms getting stronger again. Surges of power pumped through them. And for a moment I had wanted to pick Michael and Rose up, one in each hand, and toss them against the living-room walls. The feeling had passed through my mind in a heartbeat — in, and then straight out again. It was so quick that I barely had time to register it. And of course I instantly doubted that I had even had the thought in the first place.
But I knew I had.
There was something else too. A voice. Not like a whisper and not like a thought. More like a feeling. But it shocked me. It wasn’t a noise from the kids, and it wasn’t a sound from outside. It came from within my head. I’m not sure what it said. It wasn’t me, physically.
It sounded like a man’s voice, but it also sounded like me, internally.
At first I had thought it was the thief who mugged me. I panicked that he had got into the house, even though we had changed the locks. And then I thought it might be Neil, home early and hiding somewhere.
But it wasn’t. It definitely came from within me.
And it came just before I had the feeling of wanting to fling my children against the walls.
26