The first charred log had fallen through the grate and I was no closer to explaining how I felt. I’d tiptoed around the truth, told her it was too difficult to explain, and so we’d sat quietly for half an hour, entranced by the flames. With every minute that passed I expected Ade to find another way of ordering my thoughts, but tonight there was nothing, just a soft humming from her lips.
The log slipping spurred me into life, though, reminding me that they were all that stood between me and the car journey back to my cell. If I was going to find some sense in what I was feeling, it had to be here and now, in a place that was familiar and comfortable.
‘Do you know how long it took for you to be born?’ I asked, not really knowing where I was going.
‘You mean my mother’s labour?’
I nodded.
‘I’m not sure. I was sleeping at the time. I know it wasn’t quick, as the nurse was late arriving.’
‘Mum was in labour for almost seventy-two hours with me. It took so long the hospital sent her home three times before they finally gave her a bed.’
‘That must have been frustrating for her.’
I pulled my legs into my chest, trying to push down a new wave of anxiety brewing there. ‘That’s just it. I don’t know, do I? It’s not as if I ever got a chance to speak to her about it. I grew up trying to beat stuff out of Dad.’
‘He never wanted to talk about things?’
‘It just wasn’t his way, you know. I think he thought he was protecting me …’
‘But you wanted to know, yes?’
‘Of course I did. I wanted to know everything there was to know about her. Sometimes it was like he forgot that I never met her.’
‘What did happen to her, Daisy? Because if you never met her, then I don’t understand how you did this terrible thing?’
I breathed deeply, not knowing how to go on. How would she react: would she laugh at me or decide she’d had enough?
‘You don’t need to be scared of telling me, Daisy. Remember who you’re speaking to, what I’ve done myself.’
I closed my eyes, took one last breath in and let the words come.
‘The nurses weren’t concerned when they sent mum home the first couple of times. Dad said it was normal for women having their first babies to have false alarms, but the final time he drove her there, he was convinced I was coming. They both were. The only person not convinced was me apparently.’
‘I don’t blame you. You were probably warm and well fed in there.’
My eyes never broke away from the fire as I went on. I didn’t dare look at Ade.
‘That was the problem, though. I didn’t want to come out, but Mum’s body needed me to be delivered. A few hours after they admitted her, she started getting really bad pains in her stomach.’
‘You mean contractions?’
‘No, she’d been having them for days. This was something different. Really sharp pains. Like someone was stabbing her.’
Ade stroked my hand as I spoke.
‘How do you even know all this, Daisy? I thought your dad refused to talk about what went on.’
‘I didn’t hear most of this from him. He closed up whenever I asked him. But I found some papers a few months ago, a report from the hospital that he’d never thrown away. I was looking for something that filled in the gaps, you know? A photo, or a diary … anything really. But I hadn’t expected something so official.’
‘And you read it?’ She sounded surprised.
‘Of course I did. Wouldn’t you? I’d spent years not knowing what had gone on. All I wanted to know was what had happened to my mum.’
‘So what did this report say?’
‘That the pains were down to me. That I’d started to show signs of distress as I moved lower, which pushed her blood pressure up. By the time my head started showing, she was in so much pain she was on the verge of passing out.’
‘Daisy, what you are describing is what happens in labour. It must be a real shock to anyone’s body to go through that.’
‘She tried to hold it together, but the doctors said I was in such a terrible position that it was no wonder she was struggling. They tried to manipulate me into a better shape, but every time they did I resisted, until they had no option but to try and get me out as quickly as they could.’
‘So were you born by Caesarean section?’
‘No. At first they tried with suction, but when they did it was too much for her. One minute she was there and the next her heart couldn’t cope.’
‘She had a heart attack?’
I nodded. ‘They worked on her at the same time as me, once they finally got me out. The cord was round my neck, but after warming me up I started crying. They shocked Mum time and time again. They massaged her heart and kissed her, but her body had given up. It just couldn’t cope with what I’d put it through.’
Silence rolled around the room until a damp part of the log crackled, spitting a spark on to the rug. I crushed it with my trainer.
Ade didn’t know what to say, so I filled the silence instead.
‘Do you know what gets to me most, though? The thing that hurt most as I grew up? That I don’t have a single picture of the two of us together. I’ve got nothing, nothing, that tells me how she felt about me. I mean, I know I love her despite never meeting her, but I don’t have a clue how she felt carrying me. Was she excited, nervous, proud? I mean, I don’t even know if I was an accident.’
‘And would that make a difference?’ Ade asked. ‘Would you feel less guilty if you knew? If you had some evidence of how she felt?’
I shrugged. ‘Dunno. Maybe. Maybe it wouldn’t make any difference. I’ve had this in my head for so long that it’s hard to make sense of any of it any more.’
Ade stood up and stretched her arms in front of her, cracking her knuckles as she threw a third log on to the fire.
‘I thought I only got two logs’ worth?’
‘You did. But there’s no way we’re going home yet. Not when you’ve done so well already.’
She prodded the fire tentatively before sitting back on the sofa, the reflection of the flames glinting in her eyes.
It was easier to speak after that. I’d told her things I hadn’t told anyone else and she was still there, listening. A bolt of lightning hadn’t struck her after my words. Everything was as it was.
So I went on. Told her how Dad had compensated for his inability to talk by leaving kids’ books in my room, stories about life without parents. It was the closest he could get to opening up about it.
‘It sounds like he was doing his best. Other people wouldn’t have made the efforts he made, even if they don’t feel enough to you now.’
‘I never blamed him for it. He was a brilliant dad, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t show me affection, cos he did. He just never got over losing her and I couldn’t help but think that deep down he blamed me for her dying.’
‘But why would he do that?’
‘Didn’t you listen to what I said? Her body couldn’t cope with what I put her through. If I hadn’t been so big, or in such an awkward position, then none of it would’ve happened. If it wasn’t for me, he might not have smoked so much, or needed to hide inside endless films.’
‘Daisy, you must distance yourself from this. Do you really think you’re at fault for being born? All this talk of your position and size, it wasn’t your choice! But it was their choice to have you, and when you have children, then there is a health risk. What happened to your mum is tragic, a horrible accident, but to think it was your fault? No, Daisy, no. And you must say it to yourself time and time again, just as you did with the words on the cassette tape. Beat these thoughts down with logic. Think about them in other ways. Maybe Dad felt so sad because he felt responsible. Maybe he thought it was actually his fault.’
I shook off her suggestion dismissively, aggressively even.
‘How could it possibly be his fault? That’s ridiculous.’
She was on to me in a flash. ‘Yes, it is ridiculous. It makes no sense at all. In fact, it makes as little sense as your ideas. He had as little to do with it as you did. Nothing at all!’
‘But you didn’t see him, Ade. You didn’t have to sit and watch as he clammed up at the mention of her name. For the last few months it was like every time he looked at me, all he saw was Mum. And there was nothing I could do about it.’
‘And you think that’s why he crashed the car? Because he was so distracted by the way you looked?’
‘No, of course it wasn’t. He was in the car because of me. He was on the way to school.’
‘What, to collect you? Were you ill or something?’
I pulled at my hair, not knowing how or if I could do this, whether I could complete the shame of telling her what I’d done with Hobson as well.
‘Daisy? Don’t feel agitated. All I want to do is understand. If there’s something else, it’s important you tell me.’
‘What, so you can tell me it’s not my fault again? You know, it’s starting to feel a bit lame, all this. Some of what happened has to be down to me, doesn’t it? I can’t believe that all this has gone on and none of it is my fault!’
‘Then you’ll have to tell me, won’t you? Because unless you do you’ll never know, and instead you’ll always be questioning it, letting it eat you away long after you leave Bellfield.’
‘He was in the car because he found out about the self-harming. He saw the state of my arm and he lost the plot.’
‘I thought you said he was on the way to school.’
‘He was.’
‘But that doesn’t make sense. Why would he leave you when he’d discovered something so important?’
‘Because he’d found out something else as well.’
‘What?’
I said nothing. My mouth was suddenly as hot as the embers in the hearth.
‘Whatever it is, you can say it. You know that.’
I had no idea where to start, but slowly it all came out. The problems with Donna in class. The way I pretended at parties and at school. She must have wondered where I was going until I got to Mr Hobson and how he’d been the only one I could trust, how he understood the way I felt. She didn’t move as I told her about the walk along the path. In fact, it wasn’t until I got to the kiss that she said anything at all.
‘Daisy, you do understand the importance of what you’re telling me, don’t you?’
I bristled momentarily. ‘Are you saying you don’t believe me?’
‘No, of course not. Why on earth would you lie about this? What I am saying is that this isn’t something I can keep to myself.’
I grabbed at her hand, squeezing the life out of it as I told her she couldn’t do that, that it wasn’t his fault, that I’d liked him, invited him down the path, given him all the signs he needed.
She shook her head firmly. ‘I don’t believe that, Daisy, and even if there was an attraction between you, he should have known better. For him there is no excuse. He is your teacher and an adult. You knew it was wrong as soon as he kissed you. He should have known enough to not even find himself in that position.’
I argued with her, pacing around the room as the panic grew, but she was having none of it. She repeated back what she had heard, that his actions were typical of an adult trying to groom a teenager. That he probably didn’t love films at all, that his mother was possibly even alive, that people like him looked for vulnerabilities and found ways to make you trust them before taking advantage.
I didn’t want to hear any of it, but my confession had unearthed new steel in Ade that left her implacable. She stood in front of me, holding my shoulders firmly as I tried to walk.
‘What you have told me has taken such courage, but unless we do something about it, then a lot of it will be in vain. Think about what he did, Daisy. Think about how he could be trying the same thing again, maybe with someone you know. You don’t want that to happen, do you?’
I shook my head, limbs draining of energy.
‘Then the bravest thing we can do is tell the police. They need to talk to this man and make sure that he can’t move on and do the same again.’
A huge raking sob left my lips before I could stop it, a mixture of fear and relief.
‘You must be so tired, my love. And you will be for a few days. But make no mistake, what you have just told me is incredible, and I promise that we will do everything we can to break all these thoughts down. They won’t rule you for long. I won’t let them.’
It didn’t matter that the fire was dying now. There was enough warmth in her words and embrace to stop me shivering. She stood, holding me for long enough for my body to finally relax, and for my mind to wonder if this was how a mother’s embrace really felt.