Don't Turn Around Page 18

  ‘Have the police got him?’

  ‘Yes, thank God. There was a group of workmen close by and one of them smashed the driver’s window so he could drag Ryan out before he had a chance to reverse back over her.’

  ‘Oh, Ruth. That’s awful,’ Jen says. ‘How are you coping?’

  Her kindness is too much and I squeeze my eyes shut while pinching my nose between a finger and thumb. I press hard until the pain distracts me from deeper agonies. ‘It’s Gemma’s family who are struggling and I’d like to stay here with them, if that’s OK with you?’

  ‘Of course it is. Don’t worry about anything else. There haven’t been any calls yet and I’m fine here on my own.’

  ‘Better than fine,’ I correct her. ‘You were right to tell me to butt out over Ellie. I’ve messed up so badly with Gemma. We should have been better prepared. She shouldn’t have gone home where he could find her. If I’d taken my time with Gemma and her mum, if I’d been more patient, we wouldn’t be in this position.’

  ‘How many times do we tell victims and their families not to blame themselves?’

  As many times as those words fail to lessen the guilt, I want to say, but don’t. ‘I should go,’ I tell her after a long pause that neither of us knows how to fill. ‘Annabelle’s ex has arrived and I should probably go back inside before they start taking out their anger on each other.’

  ‘Is Geoff not with you? I thought he’d be there by now.’

  ‘He must be on his way. I tried phoning him a minute ago but he didn’t answer.’

  ‘Oh, OK,’ Jen says. There’s a pause. ‘Ruth, there’s something I need to tell you.’

  From Jen’s voice, I know it’s not going to be good news. I could hang up, or claim the phone reception is failing, but that isn’t who I am, not even the part of me who wants to run away and hide. ‘What is it?’

  ‘When you didn’t come back from lunch, I panicked and told Geoff you might be in John Lewis. I had to tell him why.’

  ‘Oh God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left that to you,’ I reply, clocking up another mistake that may or may not be fixable.

  Geoff and I have been obstacles in each other’s lives for too long and I was beginning to think it was inevitable that we would end up in different places. But I don’t want to be alone, and I pray that Meg still holds the power to bind us. We do this together, or not at all. I rub my forehead, pinching the skin above my eyebrows.

  ‘How did he take it?’ I dare to ask.

  ‘OK,’ Jen says but I can hear the grimace. ‘It was a lot to take in.’

  I could tell her that Geoff has suffered worse shocks but I dare say Jen knows this already. The hardest by far was the day he walked into our garage but there were others that tested him as a father. Meg punished us both, as if she knew we were going to fail her.

  ‘Why did you marry such a fucking bastard!’ Meg had screamed at me once.

  I’d only just stepped through the door and it had been a rather pleasant evening up until that point. I’d gone to my pottery class straight from work, anxious to see if the pot I’d been glazing the week before had cracked in the final firing. It hadn’t, and the colour of the enamels had come out better than I could have hoped. I’d been looking forward to bringing it home to show it off.

  Holding the pot under my arm, I asked, ‘What’s been going on?’

  Meg snorted in response. ‘Ask him,’ she said, tipping her head towards Geoff who had appeared from the sitting room. Judging by his crossed arms and furrowed brow, my hard-to-rile husband had clearly gone a few rounds in the ring with Meg already.

  ‘Lewis was here when I got home.’

  ‘And?’ I asked as I tried to picture them sitting quietly watching TV, but I could tell by Geoff’s face that I was being optimistic.

  ‘Nothing! What we do is no one else’s business!’ Meg yelled. I flinched at the volume.

  I told myself not to overreact. She and Lewis had been dating for the best part of a year – if not longer – and it was unrealistic to assume they weren’t sleeping together. He hadn’t made a return visit to the house since her birthday, despite several invitations, and I’d been hoping their relationship was on the wane. How wrong I’d been.

  Although I hadn’t seen enough of Lewis to form a proper opinion, it was more than apparent that his influence on our daughter wasn’t a good one. As well as the challenges we faced at home, her teachers were concerned Meg wouldn’t achieve her target grades unless she made significant improvement. I might have been more supportive, or more forgiving, if Meg’s attitude to us – and me in particular – hadn’t been so hostile.

  Her eyes were ablaze. ‘Dad almost killed him.’

  ‘He might as well be dead,’ Geoff warned, widening his stance in the sitting room doorway and rocking back on his heels. ‘You will not be seeing that miscreant again, Megan.’

  Meg had rounded on her father. ‘You do not tell me what to do, not any more! Lewis won’t let you. You’re lucky he didn’t have a knife!’

  ‘So he carries knives? That’s one more reason to keep him away from you!’

  ‘I said he didn’t have one!’ Meg yelled back but the fury in her voice had given way to fear. She turned back to me, her angry tears washed away with fresh sobs. ‘You can’t let him do this. Tell him, Mum.’

  When Meg rushed into my arms, I opened them wide. Forgetting about the pot tucked under my arm, it slipped from my grasp as I hugged my girl close. There was a loud crack as it hit the floor, if Meg whispered an apology, I didn’t hear it above Geoff’s roar.

  ‘Get to your room, Megan! Now!’

  As she raced upstairs, I had to decide whether to follow Meg or stay with my husband. I chose to stay, hoping to calm Geoff down and find out exactly what had happened, but he refused to discuss it any further and Meg closed me out completely after that. In her eyes, I’d taken Geoff’s side and the frightened little girl I’d glimpsed would never reveal herself to me again. I wish I’d chosen differently. I wish Geoff hadn’t reacted as badly, but I suspect he regrets not doing more. My husband reacts on impulse and that’s why I hadn’t told him about Ellie.

  ‘I’ll talk it through with Geoff,’ I promise Jen as I look up to find my path along the front of the hospital blocked by a collection of industrial bins. With no way forward, I turn back. ‘And I’ll make sure you’re given the time and space you need to help Ellie in your own way, with no interference from us.’

  ‘I don’t know …’ Jen begins, her faith in herself no match for what I know she can achieve. It makes me so angry sometimes.

  I would love to have words with my sister-in-law one day and tell her to stop comparing her youngest daughter to the elder three. If Jen is in a competition, it’s with herself. It’s the fear of the future versus all those untapped possibilities. She is not a failure by any measure, except her mother’s.

  ‘I trust your judgement, Jen.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she says quietly.

  ‘You know what to do and I’ll leave you to decide whether or not you mention you’ve spoken to me. Just let her know that she’s not alone.’

  ‘I will do.’

  ‘I’d better let you go, but keep me updated.’

  ‘Same goes for you.’

  I don’t try to phone Geoff again. I’m not sure how much longer my rain-sodden mobile will work, or my cold, numb fingers for that matter. I slip the phone into my pocket and am heading back inside the hospital when ahead of me, I spy a golf umbrella emblazoned with the McCoy and Pace logo floating through the murk of a dying day. Hurrying forward, I catch up with Geoff inside the lobby where he’s turning in circles as he tries to work out how to get to the critical care unit. I call his name and it takes a moment for him to recognise me.

  ‘Jesus, Ruth, you’re soaked.’

  I open my mouth to reply but my words catch and I hug him close before he can see my features dissolve. He doesn’t recoil from my wet, limp body and I breathe in the smell of coffee on his
breath. He feels deliciously safe and warm.

  ‘It’s all gone horribly wrong,’ I tell him as I feel myself drowning in despair. Closing my eyes, the photo of Meg from my phone rises in my mind only to morph into an image of two little girls who are offering me a lifeline.

  Not everything in my life is going wrong, not if I don’t want it to.

  Geoff pulls back, his features stoic as he uses the end of his scarf to pat my face dry. ‘Let me look after you,’ he says.

  ‘I don’t want to be looked after.’

  ‘Then perhaps I do.’

  As we stare at each other, I cup his face in my hands. I don’t offer a smile to hide my pain and neither does he. At long last, it feels like we’ve fallen into step. ‘Maybe it is time to start somewhere new,’ I admit.

  25

  Jen

  The news of Ruth’s dash to the hospital had trickled through the office during the afternoon, and the staff who are working late talk in hushed whispers. They haven’t been told that the ‘friend’ of Ruth’s is one of our callers but they’ve made the connection and glance over occasionally to offer me sympathetic smiles. I’m reminded of the day of Meg’s funeral – lots of uncomfortable silences and half-finished sentences – and it’s a comparison I could do without. I refuse to acknowledge the possibility that Gemma won’t make it.

  So why do I feel like I’m already in mourning? It’s as if the spirit of McCoy and Pace is slipping away and it’s taking the Lean On Me helpline with it. Geoff had warned me that the stress of running the business and the foundation had become too much for them but I’d refused to listen.

  It had never crossed my mind that I’d been worrying about the wrong person. Geoff’s warning might have been packaged as concern for his wife but the cries for help were his, and today I finally heard them; not when he yelled at me, but in the silence that followed as we sat at the dockside being rocked back and forth by the unrelenting storm.

  It was a relief when he’d told me to go back to the office. I’d presumed he would go straight to the hospital but he’d been gone over two hours before Ruth rang me. I can only presume he used the time to compose himself so Ruth didn’t see the broken man I’d glimpsed earlier. I find myself with another secret to keep.

  I sit motionless at the helpline pod, with my mobile propped up next to the landline so that I have both in my sights. Will Ruth phone back to tell me Gemma’s condition has deteriorated? Will Ellie phone? I’m not sure I want the responsibility of either of their lives. Geoff was right. This is no way to live.

  The business card Sheila gave me at the fundraiser is languishing at the bottom of my bag and I consider sending her an email to arrange that chat. She’d told me I had transferable skills but for all those people I can claim to have helped over the years, there are some notable exceptions: Meg, now Gemma and, judging by the silent phone, Ellie too. Wouldn’t I be better off working for Charlie? The risks of a cleaner destroying lives must be negligible.

  As time crawls, the stragglers in the office leave and I’m left marooned in a small island of light with only two lifeless phones for company. No one needs my services tonight; no regular callers; no nervous first-timers looking for someone to validate their fears; no nuisance calls, and no Ellie.

  When my mobile vibrates, I snatch it up and answer the call before I’ve registered who it is.

  ‘Hello, love.’

  ‘I’m on the helpline tonight, Mum,’ I warn, but I don’t try to end the call. It’s an odd sensation and one I haven’t felt for a while. I need my mum.

  ‘Is it busy?’

  ‘It can be,’ I reply, not willing to admit that I haven’t had so much as a wrong number in the last two hours. I don’t want Mum to know that the relaunch I’d been hanging all my hopes on has failed to meet our expectations. I don’t need that kind of judgement.

  ‘Then I won’t keep you,’ she says. ‘I was worried about you, that’s all. I was watching the news about some poor girl being run down in a Tesco’s car park – deliberately. They didn’t say who did it but it’s bound to be the husband. You must hear things like that all the time. I don’t know how you do it.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  ‘You sound exhausted. Are you pushing yourself too hard? Why don’t you and Charlie come over this weekend and let me take care of you for once.’

  ‘Things are a bit up in the air at the moment, Mum, and Charlie’s working all hours too. But we will come over soon, I promise.’

  ‘Don’t leave it too long,’ Mum says. ‘Oh, well, I suppose I’d better let you get back to it, but you know where I am if you need me.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  It’s only when I’ve returned my mobile to its position next to the landline that I realise Mum didn’t mention my sisters once. I shouldn’t be so hard on her. She does try.

  As the hands on the Liver Building’s clock creep closer to eight o’clock, my throat tightens and I struggle to swallow back the growing lump of fear in my throat. I tell myself Ellie is simply too busy to ring, or she might have discovered a real friend who can give her more than a three-hour slot once a week to hear her problems. Her new confidante might have had better luck persuading her to leave Lewis, and I try to imagine her unpacking her suitcase in a new bedroom that doesn’t have silk scarves hanging from the bedpost.

  Or she might be with Lewis right now.

  He might be forcing her down onto the bed and wrapping a scarf around her neck. As I picture him pulling it tighter, it makes me gag and suddenly I’m choking. As I race across the office, lights flicker on. A combination of streaming eyes and the sudden brightness blinds me and I feel my way into the kitchen. I grab a glass from the drainer and fill it with water. The first mouthful is immediately coughed up but I manage the second and my spluttering eases. I’m refilling the glass when I hear a phone ringing.

  The explosion of broken glass in the sink barely registers as I race back to the helpline pods. With my hand extended, I don’t slow as I pick up the phone and my body slams into the edge of the desk. I topple forward and I don’t have time to straighten up as I press the phone to my ear.

  ‘Hel—’ My voice breaks before I can finish the greeting. My weakness angers me and I try again. ‘Hello?’

  There’s no response but I know it’s Ellie. I know, because as I take a deep, raspy breath, I can hear its echo on the other end of the line.

  ‘It’s Jen,’ I tell her in case she hasn’t recognised my voice.

  As I wait for her to say something, I lift myself off the desk. I’ve written a checklist of all the things I need to tell her. I want to sound confident despite my plan being very much a work in progress. It includes the job that doesn’t actually exist, the shared house Charlie mentioned that he’s discovered is full to capacity, and the safety measures that will be useless if Ellie doesn’t have a place to stay. She’ll be taking huge risks, but she doesn’t need to know any of this because there’s nothing that could be worse than staying where she is. Dropping into my chair, I wonder if Gemma would agree but I push that thought away. There will be no more mistakes.

  I’m about to encourage my silent caller to speak when she finds her voice.

  ‘You told him.’

  My thoughts race ahead, faster than I can catch them, but it’s not hard to work out what she thinks I’ve told to who. ‘I – I didn’t.’

  There’s a sob and this time the hoarseness in Ellie’s voice is undeniable. ‘He knows I talked to you. I have never seen him so angry.’

  My skin tingles as I recall the anger radiating off Lewis when he promised he would retaliate if I didn’t leave him alone. ‘No, oh no. We have to get you away from him, Ellie, right now,’ I tell her. ‘I’ve found you a job and a place to stay where he won’t be able to find you.’ My throat is closing up again but I keep going. ‘He can’t be allowed to touch you again. We can stop this and we will. All you have to do is trust me.’

  ‘Trust you? How can I ever trust you again? You – t
old – him!’

  ‘I don’t know how he found out, truly I don’t, but it doesn’t matter any more.’ There’s a panic rising through me that makes the phone slippery in my grasp. I have to keep talking because if I don’t, she’s going to hang up. She’ll never phone again and I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. ‘At least take my mobile number so that you don’t have to wait so long between calls. Do you want to write it down? Have you got a pen?’

  ‘I do not want your number, Jen. I should not talk to you at all!’

  ‘OK, I understand why you feel like that now but I swear, I haven’t spoken to him. I can explain everything.’

  ‘I do not think you understand what I say,’ Ellie replies, her voice cold enough that icicles form down my spine. ‘You could not help Megan and you cannot help me. He said you were a bad friend to her and you are to me too. I never want to speak to you again.’

  ‘Don’t go! Please, I can help you. You have to let me try.’

  The line goes dead.

  Refusing to accept she’s gone, I keep the phone pressed to my ear. Yes I was a bad friend to Meg and I’ve had to live with that but I can do better. I close my eyes. I know it’s white noise I hear but my memory resurrects the voice I haven’t heard for ten years.

  ‘What do you want?’ Meg demanded.

  She had answered her mobile on the first ring, which wasn’t what I’d been expecting. I’d fallen out of the habit of phoning my cousin, and the only reason I’d broken my resolve to wait for her to ring me was because I knew how worried everyone had become. Plus it was Christmas, which meant my sisters had descended en masse and I was back to sharing a room with Hayley. The McCoys’ house would normally be my refuge, but not this year.

  ‘Oh, hi. It’s me,’ I said.

  ‘Obviously. I saw your name come up.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure you’d answer. I thought you might be out with Lewis.’

  ‘I wish.’

  I left a pause in the hope that Meg would say more. I didn’t want to make it obvious that I was digging for information. ‘So, what have you been up to?’