Sarah felt a huge wave of relief sweep through her. Laura knew why she would be worried. Of course she did. You couldn’t work in a hospice without being sensitive to people’s feelings. It seemed to Sarah that it was Steve who was perhaps being overprotective of her. Being as slim and delicate as she was, Laura might look vulnerable, but she would have to have a certain amount of strength of character to do the job she did. ‘No, you don’t. Thanks for understanding, Laura,’ she said, giving her a warm smile.
Passing her a filled glass, Laura smiled back. ‘Here’s to us being friends, for Jacob’s sake.’
Sarah stopped, the glass halfway to her mouth. ‘Who?’
‘God, sorry.’ Laura winced and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. ‘Me and my muddled mind. He’s my friend’s little boy. I babysit for her sometimes. To Ollie and his future happiness,’ she said, settling down at the table and raising her glass.
Scanning her face, Sarah hesitated for a second, then pulled herself up. It was a slip of the tongue, that was all. Perfectly understandable. Even she forgot Ollie’s name when he was up to something that made her heart somersault. She’d called him Steve by mistake numerous times. She’d even called him Spot once – the name of one of the rescue dogs she’d been thinking about – when he’d charged from the bathroom behind her, heading for the stairs. She’d been so paralysed with shock she’d been completely unable to spit his actual name from her mouth.
‘To Ollie,’ she said, clinking her glass against Laura’s.
Laura had barely taken a sip when the doorbell rang. Frowning, she glanced towards the hall. ‘It will be a salesperson probably. We get loads at this time in the evening. Even when I tell them I’m renting, they don’t get that I don’t want my garden landscaped, or new windows. Hopefully they’ll go away if I ignore it.’
Renting? Sarah had got the impression she owned the property. Hadn’t Steve said she had her own place? She’d misinterpreted, obviously.
‘Or possibly not.’ Laura sighed, getting to her feet as the doorbell rang for a second time. ‘I’d better go and see who it is. Won’t be a tick.’
‘Actually, do you mind if I use the loo?’ Sarah asked, pushing her chair back.
‘No problem.’ Laura led the way back into the hall. ‘It’s that one.’ She indicated the door under the stairs and Sarah slipped inside.
She couldn’t help overhearing the exchange as Laura answered the front door. ‘You’re still alive then,’ said an unfamiliar voice, sounding peeved. ‘I’m assuming you’ve changed your phone number, since the old one’s suddenly no longer in service?’ The voice was now directly outside the loo door.
‘No,’ Laura answered. ‘Immmean, yes, ages ago. I … M-M-Mum, where are you going?’
‘To make a cup of tea, darling,’ replied the woman – Laura’s mother. ‘I swear I’ll die of thirst if I don’t have one soon.’
‘But M-M-Mum, I havecompany,’ Laura protested.
‘And what company would this be that’s more important than the mother you haven’t seen in months?’ The woman now sounded hurt.
‘A friend,’ Laura said, her tone agitated. ‘You can’t just turn up when you feel like it. I—’
‘But I’ve been worried to death about you, Laura. I’ve taken a taxi all the way here from the airport. You might at least look as if you’re pleased to see me.’
Oh dear. It sounded as if the mother/daughter relationship really was strained. Inching the loo door open, Sarah glanced towards the kitchen. The kitchen door had been pushed to, and she hesitated, wondering what she should do. Her gaze flicking to the stairs, she hovered in the hall for a second, and then took a tentative step towards them. She shouldn’t, but … Curiosity got the better of her. No one could blame her for wanting to check where her little boy slept when he was here, could they? She would just poke her head around the bedroom door, that was all. She’d been going to ask Laura to show her anyway, but with her mother arriving unannounced and Laura clearly otherwise engaged, she might as well utilise the time to have a quick peek now. She would be up and down again in a flash.
Climbing the stairs quickly, she gathered which was Ollie’s room from the dinosaur-themed name plaque on the door, which was remarkably similar to the one he had at home, she realised, somewhat disconcerted. Had Steve chosen it? But … he hadn’t long moved in. Surely they hadn’t been planning the theme for Ollie’s room before that? Pushing the partially open door wider, she glanced inside, feeling somewhat reassured as she noted the high-sided toddler bed in the shape of a racing car, which had undoubtedly been Steve’s choice. He’d chosen the similar bed at home, which was one of the all-important ‘boys and their toys’ decisions he’d made. Perhaps he was trying to replicate Ollie’s bedroom? He had mentioned he was concerned about him being homesick.
She was less reassured when she glanced towards the dinosaur toy box – also similar to the one Ollie had at home – on top of which Bunny was noticeable by his absence. Listening to make sure Laura hadn’t emerged from the kitchen, she tiptoed across to the box and lifted the lid. Bunny didn’t appear to be in there either. Her heart lifted a little as it occurred to her he might be tucked under the duvet where he belonged. She was about to close the lid when she spotted a familiar tuft of baby-blue fur peeking up between a playtime bus and a fire truck. Moving the toys aside, she extracted Bunny – who was lying face down, obviously already languishing in the toy box – and her heart skipped a beat.
He was missing an ear, the one that had been personalised with Ollie’s name. The hairs rose on Sarah’s skin as she examined him more closely to find that the ear didn’t appear to have been accidentally torn. It had been cut off.
Eleven
Laura
‘I’m really sorry about this,’ Laura said, showing Sarah out. ‘She’s been abroad for a while. She’s a fashion columnist and tends to travel a lot. And then turns up when she feels like it, unfortunately.’
‘It’s fine,’ Sarah assured her. ‘I wasn’t going to stay long anyway. Joe’s on duty this evening, so I have to get back.’ Smiling, she turned for the door.
Something behind her eyes had shifted, though, Laura perceived. She was sure Sarah had warmed to her. That she’d decided she could trust her. Now, there was a wariness about her. She’d probably heard her exchange with her mother as she’d barged her way in. Laura had told her that they were estranged, but there was no way to explain that she lived in a constant state of emotional flux where her mother was concerned. That she dreaded her breezing back into her life whenever she deemed it necessary, dreaded more the ghosts from her past that would sweep icily in with her. She was also angry with herself for not being assertive with her mother, as she always vowed she would be, especially after the last time she’d turned up and her world had fallen apart.
Closing the door behind Sarah, she walked determinedly back to the kitchen.Just do it. Tell her no,she willed herself.It’s not that hard a word. Tell her to go; that you don’t want her here. Not now, not ever.
‘Tea, sweetheart?’ her mother asked over her shoulder as she waited for the kettle to boil – as if everything were perfectly normal. As if it ever had been or ever could be.
‘Mmmum …’ Laura started.
