I woke to Cat Cannon’s loud voice, raised to screeching pitch.
‘WHERE IS SHE, MICHAEL? WHERE IS ANNALISE?’
Whoa. I felt early-morning sun on my eyelids, bright and warm, and a downy duvet over my bony body.
I sat on the edge of my single bed, trying to get a handle on what was going on.
‘She did stay here.’ Cat’s voice shattered into heartbreaking howls. ‘What are you doing with these girls, Michael? What are you doing with them?’
I tiptoed down the stairs, my Michael Reyji Ray T-shirt hanging over bony legs.
Cat was in the hallway, hands on hips, lips bleeding red lipstick, eyes bloodshot. She looked unusually svelte in a Vivienne Westwood spikey shoulder suit, pale skin glimmering under Michael’s chandelier.
Michael’s face was inches from Cat’s, furious. He wore striped pyjama bottoms and a shabby grey T-shirt, white-blond hair sticking up around his head.
Cat was equally furious, glaring back at him.
Seeing me on the stairs, Michael said: ‘Go back to bed, Lorna.’
Cat turned to me then, eyes huge and desperate. ‘Lorna. Is Annalise here?’
‘She was,’ I said. ‘But she left. Michael asked her to leave.’
Cat spun back to Michael. ‘You fucking liar. You LIAR. I knew it.’
‘You’re going to believe Lorna?’ said Michael, giving an outraged laugh. ‘Come on, Cat. She barely knows what day of the week it is. You have to listen to me – Annalise was never here.’ His voice had turned smooth then. If there was one thing he could never do, it was to out-temper-tantrum Cat. They were equally matched when it came to aggression.
‘But … she stayed in the room next to you,’ I said, feeling even more insane than I usually did.
Michael turned to me and barked: ‘Go back to bed, Lorna! Sleep it off.’
‘I knew she was here,’ Cat raged. ‘I knew it. You’re a fucking liar, Michael.’
‘I. Don’t. Lie,’ said Michael, voice low, shaking his head in disgust. ‘Listen – okay, Annalise came to my door a while back, bags on her shoulders. But it was months ago. She’s not here now, end of.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me she came by?’ Cat demanded.
‘You two are always arguing,’ said Michael. ‘Some drama going on. How was I supposed to know she didn’t go back to you? What was there to tell? She came here. She said she was going home. She left.’
I tensed then, knowing Michael was twisting the truth. Annalise had come here. But she hadn’t left straight away. I thought about Annalise’s rounded stomach under that cottony dress.
‘If you slept with her—’ Cat began.
‘Don’t you start throwing accusations around,’ said Michael, pointing an angry finger. ‘What kind of parent are you anyway? Three days out of rehab and you think you’re Mother Superior? Like you haven’t neglected that girl her whole life?’
‘I haven’t been the best mother. I know I haven’t. You think I don’t feel guilty? It doesn’t make me love my daughter any less.’ Cat’s red fingernails clenched into fists. ‘WHERE IS SHE, MICHAEL?’
‘You should know the answer to that,’ said Michael. ‘You’re her mother. Don’t put your bullshit on us. You’re the one who’s taking care of her.’
‘Lorna, when was she here?’ Cat demanded.
‘Um …’ I was a dumb, frozen rabbit in headlights. I hate myself for that now. Absolutely hate myself.
Michael’s voice turns quieter. ‘Earlier in the year some time.’ He turned to me. ‘A long time ago. Wasn’t it, Lorna?’
My stomach churned. When Michael’s voice went quiet like that, I knew I was in trouble. And he wasn’t lying – Annalise had left earlier in the year.
I felt myself nod.
‘Listen.’ Michael put an arm around Cat’s shoulder. ‘She’ll turn up. You know she will. She’ll be staying with a friend somewhere. Do you want to call the police?’
Cat’s eyes faltered. ‘Do you think it’s come to that? She always turns up in the end. You know what the police will do. Call Social Services.’
‘She’ll surface soon,’ says Michael. ‘She always does, doesn’t she? Like you always say, she’s fifteen going on forty. A real little grown-up.’
‘But it’s been so long now. Months and months.’ Cat looked Michael right in the eye then. ‘Tell me the truth, Michael. Do you know anything, anything you’re not telling me?’
Michael’s jaw set hard. ‘Now pull yourself together. And stop throwing accusations around.’
Cat started crying, tears pouring down her face, red mouth opening and closing.
I couldn’t bear it, and for once my decency overcame Michael’s control.
‘Cat, why don’t you try the hospitals?’ I said.
‘Hospital?’ Red nails shot to Cat’s mouth. ‘You think something happened to my baby?’
‘She said she was pregnant.’ I glanced at Michael. ‘So maybe she visited a hospital. For a check-up or something.’
‘She was pregnant?’ Cat glares at Michael.
Michael gave me an angry smile, and I knew I was in trouble. ‘Annalise wasn’t pregnant, love,’ he said. ‘She just made all that up. A big story to get attention. They were jumpers stuffed around her middle. Didn’t you notice?’ Michael scratched his nose. ‘Cat, she came here and left. That’s the whole story. At the end of the day, Cat, I’m not her parent. You’ve let your daughter live away from home for all these months.’
‘She said she was staying with a guy from the tour. I was in rehab. I thought she was okay …’
‘Cat, you’re wasting your time here,’ said Michael. ‘I’ve got work to do. Show yourself out.’
Michael headed past me, up the stairs.
Cat loitered in the hallway for a few desperate minutes. Then she said in her gravelly opiate voice, ‘Is he telling the truth, Lorna?’
I shuffled on the stairs. ‘Annalise did leave, Cat. A long time ago. She … she told me she was pregnant. But I guess she wasn’t.’
Cat shook her head in disgust. ‘One thing I can’t stand. A woman who lets a man think for her.’
‘I don’t do that,’ I said.
‘Yeah, you do.’ Cat left then. I watched her American 1968 Ford Mustang drive over gravel onto the winding woodland path and away.
Later I was in the gym room, red-faced, trying to run away from the morning.
Michael came striding in and I tensed, mid-run.
I expected him to punch me, then drag me up to the turret room and leave me without food for the next few days.
If I was lucky.
I braced myself. Self-defence was useless. It only made him angrier.
‘Turn that thing off for a minute,’ said Michael, pressing the treadmill emergency stop. ‘I’ve got something for you.’ He gave me a stubbly kiss on the cheek and held out a sheaf of magazines.
I flinched at the kiss, still wary. ‘What are these?’ I asked, head rushing, seeing glossy models in white dresses.
‘Wedding magazines. Time to plan our future, right? I’ve decided to divorce Diane. It’s been long enough. Keeping the poor girl hanging on isn’t doing either of us any good.’
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘I’d hoped for a smile at least,’ said Michael, squeezing my hand. ‘It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You and me, happily ever after.’
He was right, I should have been smiling. If this were a normal relationship, I would have been.
I said the truest thing I could, without aggravating Michael’s temper: ‘It’s weird timing. I thought you’d be mad at me. About Cat.’
‘Forget about Cat,’ said Michael. ‘She’s a drug addict who should take better care of her daughter.’
‘And Annalise?’
‘Like mother, like daughter. She’ll be living with junkies somewhere and she’ll find her mother again in time.’
He gave me a hug, but it felt hollow.
‘So now you’ll have something to focus your mind on,’ said Michael, giving me the magazines. ‘Right? Not Cat coming here and shouting about her daughter.’
My eyes couldn’t quite meet his.
I wanted to ask him more about Annalise. When she left, had she said where she was going? Was there anything we could tell Cat?
But I knew what Michael would say. You’re spoiling this moment, Lorna. You’re being ungrateful. Why would you bring up something like that now when we’re talking about getting married?
And I couldn’t pull myself out of the pit.
I hate myself for that now.
I hate myself for so many things I can never change.