‘I didn’t give her away.’
Carrie threw her a smile.
‘Good for you.’
Jules briefly felt proud of herself, as if she, too, had bestowed some breathing space to someone in need.
‘I felt as if she needed protecting. Maybe it’s because I used to hide at her age as well. I wasn’t very good at it though. Mum always found me.’
‘You didn’t have a hundred-acre farm to take advantage of. A three-bedroomed semi in Sidcup doesn’t offer the same scope and your mum does have that famous sixth sense of hers.’
Jules pulled a wry face and stirred the rice. The fragrance of tomatoes and fresh thyme from the garden, mixed with the saltiness of the fish in the frying pan, wafted up to her. She had to admit that even for her grief-compromised taste buds it smelled good.
‘I suppose I’m sort of hiding now,’ she said.
‘Not hiding, incubating,’ Carrie said, removing the pasta bowls from the bottom oven of the range. ‘There’s a distinct difference.’
Jules bit into a grain of rice. Incubating. She liked that. It made her feel less like a victim.
‘This is ready,’ she said, lifting the pan on to a hen-shaped metal trivet.
‘Fish, too,’ Carrie said. ‘Perfect timing. We make a good team.’
Carrie began to serve.
I’m going to make an effort to eat this, Jules thought, not just for Carrie, but for myself.
Jules lay in bed. Wow, it was dark. The clouds had gathered during the evening and now rain pitter-pattered against the window. Her sleep patterns were all over the place, partly due to the night shifts at work and partly due to Gavin. She got up and sat on the little window seat, peering out into the night. Everything always seemed so much worse in the small hours. It was beautiful and comfortable here and Carrie was being so kind, but she couldn’t stay long. She needed to do something, to keep busy, to earn some money.
‘I don’t want to mention the elephant in the room,’ Carrie had said as they cleared the table after supper, ‘but he hasn’t got access to your bank accounts, has he?’
‘No!’
‘You’re sure? He hasn’t looked over your shoulder and seen you type your pin number into the machine or ever ordered anything on your card.’
‘Once or twice, but he wouldn’t…’
‘Maybe not, but better to be safe than sorry.’
So she’d made Jules call the bank there and then to put a stop on her account. She should have done it before, of course, and Carrie said it was lucky that he hadn’t used her credit card details.
Funny that she couldn’t even feel fortunate for that. Funny that as soon as you got away from somewhere you realised what you really should be doing, should have done or not done. But she was too tired to think about anything to do with her old life. She yawned and padded back to bed. Give in, a voice whispered as she sank back against the soft pillow, allow yourself to be looked after for a change. That’s really not so hard. Is it? Actually, Jules thought, yes, it is, but she closed her eyes and finally drifted off to sleep.
PURPOSE
‘Oh my,’ Eliza whispered. ‘She’s in such a bad way, poor lamb. Couldn’t even eat all of her supper.’
‘Come away,’ Isaac whispered from the doorway. ‘You’ll wake her, and she might see you.’
Eliza ignored him. She stood by the bed and reached out to touch the girl’s dark blonde hair spread across the pillow like strands of seaweed. Looked as if it was some time since she had washed it properly. Hair was so important, Eliza thought. If your hair didn’t feel right, you didn’t feel right. Their guest may have been a fully grown woman, but curled up on her side, her pale face full of sorrow even in sleep, she looked young and vulnerable.
Eliza allowed her hand to float away.
‘That’s not likely,’ she said. ‘The majority of people are completely unaware of our existence.’
‘But some are,’ Isaac said, ‘and as I keep trying to remind you, not all are amenable.’
Eliza looked back towards Jules.
