Poppy had her hair in pigtails; one was higher than the other, which gave her a lopsided look. She had a thick scratch down one cheek. I knelt and gathered her into me. For a moment, I shut my eyes and felt her heart beating against mine, her breath hot on my neck. Then I held her back from me.
‘What happened to your face?’
‘Roxie did bit me.’ She put a finger against the livid line with a tragic air. ‘She did hurt me.’
‘Roxie?’ I stood up, still holding on to her warm hand like it was the only thing that could keep me safe, and turned to Emily.
‘She tried to ride on her back,’ said Emily. ‘I put antiseptic cream on it. Jason says it’s fine.’
Emily wasn’t looking as fresh and healthy and pretty as she usually did. Her hair needed washing; there were bruised shadows under her eyes. She was wearing a man’s shirt over cotton trousers, and looked more like a child than a pregnant woman.
‘Are you OK?’
Her gaze shifted from me, rested on the window of the café where a fly ticked and buzzed uselessly.
‘Jason said we shouldn’t really talk.’ Her voice was low.
‘And you always do what Jason says?’ My voice came out harsher than I intended, almost a growl.
She turned her eyes back to me. ‘We’re married.’
I gave a small laugh. ‘Is that what marriage means?’
‘I should go.’
‘Emily, don’t you go to work anymore?’
‘I’m taking a break from working,’ she said.
I wanted to shake her, tell her to open her eyes and see what was happening to her. Who was I to talk, to tell anyone what to do about anything? I looked down at Poppy’s burnished head, then picked up her overnight bag.
‘I’m sorry that I didn’t have time to wash her clothes from yesterday.’
‘That’s not a problem. We’ll be off then,’ I said.
‘Tess?’
‘Yes?’
‘Oh… it’s nothing really. Bye.’
‘Take care,’ I said and saw tears spring into Emily’s eyes.
‘What shall we do today?’ I asked Poppy as we walked hand in hand towards the bus stop.
I was so crowded out with fears, I could barely speak. Because what should I do today, any day? My breath was raw in my chest, my legs thin and shaky as reeds. My body – the body that a few hours ago had been in Aidan’s arms, had been touched and entered by Aidan – now felt corrupted and broken.
‘Grandmother’s Footsteps?’ she said hopefully. ‘Hide and Seek, and I’ll hide and you will find me.’
‘OK,’ I said in a bright voice.
But maybe, I thought, we should go and stay with my mother, or my friend Sylvie, who lived in Newcastle. I had a friend living in Hamburg, another who’d moved to New Zealand. Or I should go to Gina and tell her everything, or Nadine perhaps, who was always so calm and practical and laid a soothing hand on the most seething of troubles.
But would they believe me? Would anyone? I didn’t know if I would believe me, if I was them.
We boarded the bus. Poppy sat close to me, swaying against me as the bus rounded corners. When we got off, I tried to hold her hand, but she pulled away and skipped in front of me, her small backpack bumping against her body, her pigtails bouncing.
‘Tess!’
Bernie was coming towards us, striding rapidly.
I found myself almost glad to see him. He was irritating but just a normal kind of irritating – making too much of an effort and hitting the wrong note. OK, so he stood too close and wasn’t good at respecting boundaries, but really he just wanted to be liked. He hadn’t killed anyone.
‘And how’s Pops?’ he asked, grinning at her, his teeth yellow.
Poppy stared at his left hand, raised in greeting, at the rounded nubs where his fingers used to be.
‘Where are they now?’ she asked, pointing.
‘That’s a good question.’
‘Did they die?’
‘I suppose they did, in a way.’
‘Are they in the ground?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Do they hurt?’
‘No, not anymore.’
‘Roxie did hurt me.’ Poppy put a finger on her cheek.
‘A dog,’ I said.
‘Going home?’
‘Yes.’
‘See you later.’ Bernie gave his wheezing laugh at some private joke.
We turned into our road. There was a figure sitting on the doorstep and as we approached, the figure stood. Aidan.
I halted, took Poppy’s hand and held it tight.
‘Mummy? Mummy, you’re hurting.’
He was waving at us, his hand high above his head. Then he came loping towards us down the road. He took my face in his hands and kissed me full on the mouth, then bent towards Poppy and touched her gently on the shoulder. I remembered how I used to like the way he was respectful with her, a bit awkward.
‘I’ve missed your mother, and I’ve missed you,’ he said. ‘But I’m back now. We’re going on a picnic!’
Poppy stared up at him, her eyes round. She backed against my knees. Why had I never sensed that she was scared of him? I had searched desperately for signs and clues, and not seen what was in front of my eyes.
‘I’m not sure—’ I began.
‘I’ve probably brought way too much,’ he said. ‘But whatever we don’t eat now, we can save for later. I thought we could go to Epping Forest. Do you like climbing trees, Poppy?’
‘No.’
‘I’ve looked at the buses. They go every ten minutes.’
‘I’m quite tired,’ I said.
Aidan took my hand and kissed the knuckles.
‘So am I,’ he said softly. ‘We didn’t get much sleep, did we?’
‘I think I may be coming down with something.’
‘It’s all been too much for you,’ he said.
‘Coming down from where?’ Poppy tugged at my hand. ‘Where are you up?’
Perhaps I actually was ill – the ground didn’t feel steady under my feet and when I tilted my head to the blue sky and small clouds, the trees seemed to tip towards me. I wanted to fold up on myself – fold up over Poppy and close her into my embrace.
How could Aidan not see? How did he not know? He was smiling, saying things about how he’d spent the morning thinking of me. I thought of running past him with Poppy, getting into the house and slamming the door shut.
But in the reeling nausea of my thoughts, I understood – and it was the only thing I understood – he must not know that I knew. Our safety lay in Aidan thinking he had got away with it.
‘Let me drop off Poppy’s stuff and get a picnic blanket,’ I said.
Aidan pulled out his mobile and looked at the time.
‘Sure. There’s a bus in a minute and then another in twelve minutes – we can get that one. We’re not in any hurry.’ Again, that tender, knowing smile.
I rummaged in my bag for the door keys and felt the photos, the watch, under my fingers. I let us into the hall, then into the flat. Poppy picked up Sunny and held him so he dangled from her.
‘You won’t hurt me. You’re my friend.’
She put a fat kiss on his shabby orange head and I saw his tail twitch ominously.
‘Let’s go then,’ said Aidan.
‘I don’t want to,’ said Poppy.
‘It’s OK, darling. We can play Grandmother’s Footsteps.’
‘I want Sunny.’
‘Sunny will be here waiting for you.’
‘I want Milly. I want chocolate. I want a banana. I want my crayons. I want ice cream.’
‘I’ll buy you an ice cream,’ said Aidan good-naturedly. ‘There’s a little café near where we get off the bus.’
‘I want a paddling pool.’
‘We’ll swing you,’ said Aidan. ‘Swing you high all the way to the bus. Won’t we, Tess?’
I nodded. Part of me was thinking this wasn’t real, part was thinking I had to run away with Poppy right now, run and run and never come back. I imagined us tearing down the road together; I imagined him calmly walking after us, reaching us. Then what?
Aidan took Poppy’s hand. I looked down, seeing the way his larger hand curled around her small one. She was so little.