Loud, shrieking screams. Mum’s screams. They made me jolt upright in my bed. I didn’t know how long I had been asleep, but my eyes still felt slightly wet from my tears, so it couldn’t have been too long. Then there was some clattering around and I heard Dad talking hurriedly and running down the stairs, then back up again, followed by a slower, heavy thud. He had gone to get Father Tobias, I thought to myself as I pulled on my dressing gown and went out onto the landing.
‘Go back to bed, Katherine,’ Father Tobias said to me, sharper and sterner than usual. I didn’t obey him. Instead, I watched as he and Dad gathered round the bed in the main room, Mum’s body hidden by the part-open door.
‘I think we should just let her work through it,’ Father Tobias said loudly to Dad over the screams. ‘There’s nothing much that can be done, short of forcibly sedating her.’
‘I thought we were supposed to be over this. I thought the whole point—’
But Dad broke off, as the screams stopped as suddenly as they had started. Silence throbbed around us all. Then a deep voice sounded from Mum’s room. A voice I’d heard before; except this time, it wasn’t shouting. It was talking in a low volume but clearly; firm, definite, terrible.
‘A CHILD. BRING ME THE CHILD.’
It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw Dad’s face going even whiter than normal. He looked up at me, standing on the landing, and our eyes met.
‘Kitty, go to bed right now,’ he said, his voice hoarse and raspy, as if he needed a drink of water.
I stared at them, and slowly Father Tobias turned his head to look at me too, just as another loud shout emanated from the bed.
‘BRING. ME. THE CHILD.’
I was still standing there, transfixed. Even though I couldn’t see the mouth saying the words, I knew that they came from the body that used to be my mum – my kind, fun, warm mum, who used to take me to the shops and make sandcastles on the beach.
‘BRING. ME. THE CHILD.’
Father Tobias turned the rest of his body round so he could face me properly. ‘Kitty, come here.’
‘No,’ Dad hissed, clasping the upper part of Father Tobias’s arm. ‘I will not have her involved.’
Father Tobias didn’t shake him off or respond. He just carried on looking at me.
‘Katherine. Please come here.’
This time Dad didn’t argue. He moved his hand from Father Tobias’s arm to his face, rubbing his cheeks, as if he was very unsure about everything.
‘I just need you to come in here,’ Father Tobias said, reaching out his hand as if he wanted to take mine. I paused. Then walked. Two steps. Three steps. Five steps. Then I was there. And he had my hand, leading me into the room, around the door, and in front of the bed.
Mum was lying there, in her old pink nightie. She looked different to how she’d looked over the past few days. Her skin was grey and her hair was losing its colour too. Even though she’d been baking pies and cakes, her face seemed thinner and I could see the jut of her jaw beneath her skin.
‘Marjory. We’ve brought you Katherine. You said you wanted to see her.’
Her face remained still for about three seconds. Then it spread into the smile I had seen downstairs. That horrible, toothy smile that wasn’t like Mum at all.
‘MARJORY DOESN’T WANT HER HERE. SHE’S BEGGING HER TO GO.’
The voice was low and strong. She wasn’t shouting, but her tone had a deep resonance to it, like bombs exploding a long way off. I heard Dad take in a sharp breath.
‘You just asked Katherine to be brought to you. And here she is,’ Father Tobias continued, talking as calmly as if we were all having a picnic.
‘SHE’S FRIGHTENED.’
‘Who is?’ Father Tobias asked pleasantly.
‘MARJORY. FRIGHTENED WHAT SINS THIS LITTLE GIRL MIGHT BE EXPOSED TO. OR MIGHT WANT TO COMMIT.’
‘What do you mean, Marjory?’ As he said this, Father Tobias put a hand on my shoulder, holding me still. He had probably seen that I was starting to shake, although whether this was because of the cold or something else, I didn’t know.
‘THAT LITTLE GIRL SHOULD JOIN ME. I WILL SHOW HER THINGS.’
The horrible smile spread across Mum’s face again. And I felt sick.
‘Please can I go?’ I whispered.
‘No, stay here, Kitty,’ Father Tobias said, calmly but firmly.
‘I don’t think—’ Dad started to say, but Father Tobias held up a hand to silence him. ‘Please. Let’s just see what else Marjory has to say.’
‘I … I think I know where this is going. This is about what she said before,’ Dad said. He was tripping over his words, his hands now going up past his face, clutching at his hair as if trying not to start screaming himself.
‘Please control yourself,’ Father Tobias said, a little sternly. ‘Katherine’s going to come to no harm here.’
‘THAT LITTLE CUNT IS WHAT WE’VE ASKED FOR. IT’S WHAT WE’VE WANTED. FOR SO LONG. MARJORY IS SCREAMING INSIDE HERE. BEGGING US TO LET HER LITTLE GIRL GO. BUT WE WILL TAKE HER. WE WILL HAVE WHAT IS OURS.’
I felt Father Tobias straighten up. ‘Well, I think we’ve heard quite enough now. Go back to your room, Katherine. This doesn’t appear to be getting us very far.’ His tired, lined face was scrunched, like he was put out about something, or someone, though I’m not sure if it was me, Dad or Mum.
I heard him exchange some muttered words with Dad as I padded softly back to my room, but I didn’t quite catch them. I was in a daze when I sat down on my bed. This had been the longest night of my life. It felt like it would never end. And just as I thought this, I heard the birds start to sing. Louder and louder, as if they were gathering near my window. And I knew morning would come eventually, like it always did.
It was Amanda who woke me. This was unusual, but she’d brought me some toast, so I didn’t feel too cross about it. I bit into one of the slices greedily.
‘How are you today, Kitty?’
Of all the questions she could have asked me, it was the one I really didn’t know how to answer. But she didn’t seem too interested in waiting for a proper response, and pressed on.
‘I understand there was a bit of a … there was … some excitement during the night.’
Excitement? I was puzzled by this choice of word. ‘What excitement?’ I asked.
She stared at me, eyes open, encouraging me to remember, or to talk about something she seemed sure I knew about. ‘You know, last night. About what happened. With your mum.’
I felt the little hairs on my arms prickle and a tingly feeling creep up my neck. She was talking about what happened in the lounge. But she couldn’t know that I was there. She hadn’t been there herself. Or had she seen me, through the window? She’d gone outside. I remembered her leaving. The cold air coming in from the door.
‘Kitty?’
The low burning fire. The flicker of the light. The darkness underneath the coffee table. The smell of washing powder on the clean blanket.
‘Kitty, are you all right?’
It took an effort to pull my mind away from that awful place. I looked at her, blinking quickly in case my tears slipped over and down my face. ‘What?’
‘I was talking about what happened in Mum’s bedroom. Father Tobias just told me about it?’
These two sentences weren’t questions, but she said them as if they were. I nodded in response and she seemed a bit happier.
‘Good, I’m pleased we’re on the same page.’ She gave me a smile. ‘I want you to remember, Kitty, that your mother is … she’s a bit … a bit poorly.’
I didn’t know why she was telling me this as if it were news, but I had a suspicion she thought she was being kind.
‘And what she said … well, it isn’t to be taken to heart.’
I nodded again, and she seemed to like that. Her smile returned. ‘Good. I’m pleased you understand.’
It was only now that I realised the tray she’d brought the toast on also had a cup of tea on it. She picked it up and took a little sip from it. ‘So,’ she said, wiping her mouth discreetly with the back of her hand, ‘this leads me on to something that might cheer you up.’
I narrowed my eyes. It was her happy, sing-songy tone that had started to worry me. It was like she was trying to get me onside for something. And, based on what had been happening over the past few days, I thought it was unlikely I was going to like it.
‘I was wondering if you’d like to invite your little friend – Adah, isn’t it? – to tea? Would you enjoy that?’
This took me completely by surprise. ‘Why?’ I asked.
Amanda took another sip of her tea and smiled again. ‘Oh, we just thought it would be a nice thing. A nice thing for you, after a few days of … unpleasantness. It’s time to put that sort of stuff behind us, and I think this would be the perfect way to move forward. A nice little tea for you and Adah.’
The idea of inviting in someone else when Mum could start screaming at any moment seemed a strange way of dealing with the situation. What if more ‘unpleasantness’ happened when Adah was here? What if something awful happened to her, like it did to Levi?
Amanda seemed to guess what I was thinking. She set her tea down and clasped her hands together. ‘Don’t worry about a thing, Kitty. It will all be fine. Father Tobias and your dad will stay with your mum upstairs and I’ll sort out the food for you and Adah. We’ll have a very merry time, I’m sure.’
Again, there was something that sounded wrong about her voice. Like a performance. Like she was trying to be kind to me whilst not telling me something very important, something that would make all this make a bit more sense, if only she’d say it. But she didn’t say it. She just got up to leave.
‘That’s all sorted then,’ she said. ‘Shall we say five o’clock? I might even be able to get that old television working in the lounge and put on a Disney video for the two of you? Would you like that?’
I nodded. It was all I could really do. She seemed so set on it all, I felt it would be worse to argue.
‘Excellent,’ she beamed. ‘I’ll go downstairs and start planning what to cook for this evening, and you can run along to find your little friend. You could go and play with her in the woods during the day. Actually, shall I run you a nice warm bath before you go? Or would you like one when you get back?’
I nodded again. ‘When I come back,’ I said, and she smiled and left, closing the door softly behind her.
I got dressed slowly, thinking about what she’d said. I could ask Adah for tea, I supposed. But a little part of my mind was telling me not to do what Amanda wanted. I found it strange that they’d all been discussing me having tea with a friend after everything that had happened last night.
I felt myself shiver. I didn’t want to think about last night. I could feel it upsetting me.
I pulled on my shoes, which were normally by the front door, but seemed to have found their way upstairs, and left my room, deciding to see what Adah thought about the teatime invitation. If she wanted to come, she could come. If she’d rather stay away, I couldn’t really do anything about that.
I headed down the stairs, opened the front door, and set off into the trees, only vaguely aware of Amanda standing in the hallway behind me. Watching me go.