Peter’s laughter, the shrillness of Gail’s voice, and the feeling that her family hated her, coupled with the heavy bass of the music, and the wine in her system, made Ava’s head throb.
She looked down at Willow playing with a Fisher Price phone that had once been hers, and despite her daughter looking content, jabbering into the receiver, Ava wished again that she could give her a better life.
She crouched and stroked her daughter’s hair, catching a curl around her little finger, the silky softness somehow comforting, and Willow smiled up at her, trying to hand her the receiver. ‘Mummy crying?’ she said, tilting her head.
Ava hadn’t realised she was, and swiped away the tears with the heel of her hand. She lifted Willow from the floor, and held her close, sniffing into her hair.
‘Let’s go out,’ she said. It was time to do something proactive. She would go and see Justin. Confront him. Find out if he wanted her and Willow in his life. If he didn’t, it was time to move on.
Once downstairs she snuggled Willow into her pink coat and hat, and pulled on her own duffle coat and scarf.
She opened the door and the cold air rushed in, stinging her face. Was she doing the right thing? She’d seen the figure running down the road earlier. What if he was still about?
Convincing herself he would be long gone, she stepped out into the dark night, and strapped her daughter into the buggy that always stood by the front door, then put on her gloves. She attempted to push thoughts of the figure from her mind. Had he really been watching them as they slept?
She hurried down the narrow, uneven road, lit only by a full moon that was slowly disappearing behind heavy clouds.
It would take about ten minutes to get to Justin’s place, and as she raced along, she tried to stay hopeful. Hopeful that Gail was wrong, that Justin wasn’t seeing other women. He hadn’t answered her calls or messages for ages, she reminded herself. But Willow was his daughter. And he’d told Ava more than once that he loved them both. And she loved him too, didn’t she?
‘Dark. Dark. Dark. Dark,’ Willow was saying, her gloved hands over her eyes, her legs bouncing up and down, slamming against the buggy.
‘Yes, it is dark, darling girl,’ Ava said, her eyes flicking to and fro at the bushes and trees either side of them. ‘But we’ll soon be at Daddy’s house.’
‘Daddy.’
‘Yes, Daddy.’
‘Dark. Dark. Dark. Dark.’
As Ava reached Cranberry Close, the moon vanished behind a cloud. ‘Not far now, Willow,’ she said, wishing she’d brought a torch. She pushed the buggy towards the house Justin shared with his dad and the Bristow brothers. She remembered them from school – when they bothered to attend. They were a bad lot, who were into drugs and petty crime. She hated them. Hated that Justin had got mixed up with them.
Outside the house, Ava looked up to see Justin’s bedroom light on. She crouched in front of Willow. She didn’t want to take her daughter inside – that’s why she hadn’t been before – but she couldn’t leave her out on the lonely street. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.
‘Daddy,’ Willow said, bouncing her legs against the buggy and giggling.
‘Yes, Daddy.’ Ava lifted her out, and they walked hand in hand up the path to the front door. It had once been a beautiful house – a 1930s bay-fronted semi, with a heavy oak front door. But now there were signs it wasn’t being cared for. The front garden was overgrown, empty beer bottles and cans sharing space with nettles and wildflowers, and the paintwork was chipped, curtains sagged at the window.
She knocked on the door and waited.
Eventually one of the Bristow brothers opened the door. She couldn’t tell them apart – both tall and too skinny with cropped black hair. ‘Ava,’ he said, a smirk stretching his yellowing skin. ‘Come to see Justin?’
‘Is he in?’
He smirked again as he stepped back and gestured for her and Willow to enter. ‘He’s upstairs. I’m guessing he isn’t expecting you.’
She looked into his vacant, staring eyes. ‘I’ll go up, shall I?’
‘Be my guest.’ He staggered away, disappearing through a door that led to the lounge.
She picked Willow up and climbed the stairs, passing the toilet, the door standing open, an unpleasant smell of urine reaching her nostrils. The house was filthy.
‘Justin?’ she said, tapping his bedroom door. But before he could answer, clarity hit her like a fist. She didn’t want this life for Willow either. She wanted so much more for her darling girl.
She was about to turn to leave when the door opened, and Justin poked his head out, his white-blonde hair standing on end. He was naked, and made little effort to hide the fact. His floor was littered with empty spirit bottles and cans, and the smell of weed and tobacco smoke mingled with the stench of grubby sheets, made her feel sick. He’d changed so much from the boy she met in Newquay.
‘What are you doing here?’ he said, eyes wide.
Ava lifted Willow up into her arms, and the child looked deep into her face, touching her cheek. ‘Mummy OK?’
‘I just thought …’ But she had no words – what she’d planned to say had gone with the realisation she no longer wanted Justin in her life.
‘Who is it?’ A female voice came from inside the room.
A tiny pang of pain came and went. She didn’t want Justin for Willow. She didn’t want Justin for her. She’d been such a fool waiting for him to give her the perfect life she’d always dreamed of – and now it hit her hard that he never would.
Justin glanced over his shoulder. ‘Nobody.’
Nobody. ‘I’ve come to say you’re off the hook, Justin.’
‘What you on about?’ He sighed deeply, closing his eyes, swaying.
‘I don’t want you in Willow’s life. I don’t want you in mine.’
‘What? No. Willow’s my daughter, Ava. I have a right to see her once I can get my act together.’
‘Let’s face it, Justin; you’ll never get your act together. You haven’t bothered to see her for months.’
‘I’ve been busy with my music, and stuff.’ He went to touch Willow’s cheek, and Ava slapped his hand away.
‘Don’t touch her. Don’t ever touch her again,’ she yelled, turning and racing down the stairs, afraid tears would come before she could get out of this disgusting house.
The Bristow brother stood at the foot of the stairs, blocking her way. ‘If he doesn’t want you, love, I’ll give you a quick one.’ He went to grab her, but she pushed him hard with her free hand. He tumbled, cracking his head against the wall.
‘Fucking bitch,’ he said, as she flung open the front door and ran down the path.
*
Tears rolled down her face as she flew along the lonely road, holding Willow against her, dragging the empty buggy behind them, her vision blurring. She hated that she was running from one nightmare back to another. Why had life always been so awful? What had she done wrong in a previous life?
‘Wee wee,’ Willow said into her ear. ‘Wee wee, Mummy.’
‘Oh Willow, please wait until we get home, darling girl,’ Ava cried. ‘It’s too dark to stop.’
‘Wee wee, Mummy. Wee wee, Mummy. Wee wee, Mummy.’
‘OK, OK.’ She let go of the buggy and raced into some nearby trees, Willow in her arms.
*
It was as she took her daughter’s hand and led her back to the road, twigs crunching under their feet, bushes catching on their coats, that she noticed a truck had pulled up next to the empty buggy, and a prickling sensation ran down her spine.