She had done everything in her power to make friends with Viola, not least because she knew that was what Elspeth expected, and she had vowed to do whatever her new mother wanted to avoid being sent back to the home, like Tommy. She’d hated it there. Nothing in the home had belonged to her – everything was shared: the TV, the tatty second-hand toys in the playroom. Worse than that, there was no love. She even let Elspeth call her by her full name, Kathryn, when nobody else did. ‘I don’t like to shorten names, darling girl,’ she’d said, wrinkling her nose.
Once when passing the sitting room she overheard Elspeth talking in a low voice to Huw about how she’d assumed adopting a girl would help Viola become a ‘nicer person and less spoilt’. Her voice had been filled with disappointment, which terrified Katy. Would they send her back if Viola didn’t like her?
Her new bedroom was supposed to be across the landingfrom Viola’s but her sister had made such a fuss that, in the end, to appease her, Elspeth had said Katy could live in the attic.
‘I’ll decorate it for you however you like,’ promised Elspeth, her blue eyes silently pleading with her not to make a fuss. Which Katy would never do. She was there to make Elspeth happy. And it was clear Viola made her mother very unhappy. Viola seemed to make it her mission to behave as appallingly to her parents as possible. ‘You can have your own bathroom and everything.’
‘As long as she’s not sleeping anywhere near me, I don’t care,’ snapped Viola, her eyes blazing. ‘I don’t want to catch her fleas.’
Elspeth had screamed at her, told her she was spoilt and selfish, while Huw looked on with a worried expression on his usually benign face. ‘Now hang on a minute, Elspeth, that’s a bit harsh,’ he said, as Viola pushed past them on the landing and ran crying to her bedroom. Katy was pleased that Elspeth had stood up for her while Huw did nothing. He was like a big bear that always seemed to get in the way and Elspeth was always snapping at him, as if she found his presence particularly irritating. He was too laid back. He should be telling Viola off for being rude instead of accusing Elspeth of being harsh. She could see why Viola was so spoilt with a father like him.
Elspeth had come over faint then, stating that she was exhausted and had to lie down, leaving Katy and Huw standing awkwardly in the doorway of the bedroom that was no longer going to be Katy’s, not knowing what to say to each other. Eventually Huw had patted Katy’s shoulder and said he’d make the attic look nice for her. Inthe meantime she had to bed down with the boxes and cobwebs, spiders and dust, until the builders came in to make the bathroom and knock the two rooms into one. Katy didn’t mind. She had a good view of the garden from up there, and she could hear the conversations that filtered through the windows from below. She had her own private space – her own floor – in a beautiful house and that was all that mattered to her.
For weeks, Viola had been talking about a Halloween party to celebrate her birthday. She was going to invite her friends from school, she’d say loudly, whenever Katy was in earshot. Already Katy hated the snooty girls’ school she had to attend, with the stuffy pinafore and starched-shirt combo she was forced to wear. Everyone made fun of her accent when she opened her mouth, so she decided the best thing was to keep quiet. Even though Viola was two school years above her, her popularity and hatred of Katy filtered down through the pupils, which resulted in everyone giving her a wide berth as though she was infectious and riddled with lice – which was probably what Viola had been telling everyone. Katy tried not to care. She was used to keeping herself to herself. It had served her well at the children’s home and it would protect her here.
Elspeth had gone to town on the house, decorating every inch of it with fake cobwebs, furry spiders, pumpkins with sinister faces carved into them (Katy was made to help with this and hated it because the orange flesh stuck to her fingers), ugly gargoyles, witches’ broomsticks, hanging bats. It was grotesque and changed the feeling of the house from pretty and dreamlike to ugly and nightmarish.
Viola’s friends were to arrive at five o’clock for some food, then go trick or treating. It wasn’t clear to Katy if she was invited, although Elspeth had given her an unflattering witch’s costume with stripy tights that kept falling down and a pointed hat that itched her head. Viola looked beautiful in a white dress, even with the scary face paint. She wasn’t quite sure who Viola was supposed to be but she admired the long Victorian-style dress, all chiffon, lace and petticoats, and glanced down at her own costume feeling like Cinderella in rags.
Viola’s friends were dressed in similar outfits to hers, Gothic and glamorous-looking, with red-painted lips, white faces and too much perfume. And they pranced about the kitchen, giggling and dancing, whispering behind their hands while Katy sat at the end of the table alone. Nobody spoke to her, except Elspeth and a kind-faced older woman called Franny, who was a cook-housekeeper, which Katy soon found meant she did all the jobs that Elspeth didn’t want to do.
And then eventually Viola and her sycophantic cronies gathered as a crowd in the hallway, moving en masse as though they were one living organism, and Katy hung back, by the staircase. ‘Viola, make sure you look after your sister,’ called Elspeth, as she handed out plastic bags for them to collect their sweets. ‘And don’t be back too late.’
Katy noticed how Viola shuddered at the word ‘sister’ and her obvious loathing made Katy’s eyes smart. Viola was determined to hate her – and, as a result, to cast herself in the role of tortured, misunderstood princess in her own little film, while Katy was the ogre.
Viola carried on out of the door, surrounded by her six friends, like maids-in-waiting, while Katy trailed pathetically behind. But they didn’t head to the nearby houses, as she’d expected them to: they continued towards the suspension bridge.
‘Um …’ called Katy, running to keep up. ‘Aren’t we going trick or treating?’
‘That’s for babies,’ one of Viola’s friends scoffed, a pretty girl with long red hair and freckles.
‘And the old farts around here won’t give us anything interesting,’ added another girl, with black hair and a green-painted face. Casey or Cassie. ‘Half of them won’t answer the door.’
‘Then where are we going?’ Katy could hear the panic in her voice.
But nobody answered. Instead they linked arms and giggled, running on ahead. She thought about going home but she was so desperate to join in, to show Viola she wasn’t a baby, that she followed as they trudged across the bridge, the pavements shiny with rain, the lights refracting in puddles, trying to ignore her sweaty palms and feeling of dread. She had been in Bristol just a few months, miles away from the children’s home in Gloucester, and still hadn’t got her sense of direction but it seemed they were walking a long way. Too far. After they had crossed the bridge Viola and her friends continued, splashing through puddles and giggling, and Katy felt she had no choice but to follow, more despondent with every step. The road was dark on the other side of the bridge, with fewer streetlights, and dense trees that seemed to leer at Katy as she passed, their twigs like bony fingers pointingand jeering at her. And then they turned off the main road and skipped down a narrower street and then … And then they were climbing over a fence into a wooded area. Viola was atop the fence, laughing as her skirts caught and her friends were trying to release her, and all Katy kept thinking about was why they were going to the woods in the dark on Halloween.
Still she followed. She wasn’t sure how to get home, and even if she could figure out the way she didn’t fancy the walk in the dark by herself. She felt spooked. She’d have nightmares tonight, she just knew it, up in that attic room by herself. She trailed behind the other girls as they led her through the maze of trees, tried not to trip over the roots sticking out of the ground, like bones. The cold was biting at her ankles, like an angry monster. She could feel the wind through her thin witch’s costume. Eventually they came to a clearing with a dip where there was a rope swing and a few logs. Viola and her friends stopped and gathered in a little circle around Katy. Their faces seemed sinister with the paint and the moonlight, and she had a feeling she knew what was about to happen.
‘Fancy a game of hide and seek?’ asked Viola. Katy could see something mean glinting in her eyes. It was dark, despite the full moon, with shadows elongating the trees so they looked threatening against the inky sky. She definitely didn’t want to play hide and seek in the woods.
‘I thought we were going trick or treating,’ she said feebly. The other girls looked at each other and laughed.
‘No. Trick or treating is for babies, like we’ve already said. Hide and seek is for big brave girls,’ said Viola,standing in front of Katy. ‘And you’re going to be the one to count. Okay?’
No. It definitely wasn’t okay. Katy didn’t want to be left alone in the clearing to count while the others hid. She didn’t want to be left alone at all. But she could hardly say that for fear of looking like a baby. She wanted – she needed – Viola to like her. To respect her. If Viola hated her Elspeth might send her away. She couldn’t bear to go back to that children’s home. Or the one before. That place had been even worse, with bars at the windows and a teenage boy who tried to get her into trouble and hid a penknife under his pillow, threatening to cut her if she told. She’d never had a proper family. She hadn’t known her dad, and her mum had preferred going out and partying to staying at home and looking after her. Until that dark day three years ago when she had fallen asleep on the sofa and never woken up. She had sat with her mother for a full night and a day before she realized that something was very wrong and had gone to get Gladys, the sweet older lady from next door. That day she’d lost the little family she’d had and she couldn’t lose this one. So, she found herself agreeing meekly and stood by the tree, her eyes shut while she counted loudly into the night. There was the smell of damp and bonfires in the air. She heard the scurry of footsteps, the bark of laughter, then nothing. Just the haunting shriek of a fox and the rustling of branches.
After she’d finished counting, Katy called their names, then wandered around the clearing, desperate to catch sight of Viola’s white dress or Cassie’s green cloak, hopingthey were hiding behind the thick tree trunks. But eventually, when it was obvious they’d dumped her in the woods and weren’t coming back, she screamed for them, her throat hoarse from crying.
She tried to find her way out, but all the paths looked the same and she was sure there was something up ahead, its yellow eyes watching her, slinking through the undergrowth. An owl hooted from one of the trees and there was another sound, something animalistic and frightening. In desperation she ran back to the clearing, tearing her costume on brambles and branches in her panic, slumping at the foot of the large oak tree where they’d left her, rocking and crying, her arms folded around herself as though to ward off the horrors. She was going to die. She knew that with a certainty she’d never felt before. She was going to be killed in these woods. And if she did die, would anyone care?
She wasn’t sure how long she was out in the cold and the dark, for sheer terror numbed all her senses, but eventually she heard voices. Adult voices and then, like a miracle, Huw and Elspeth were standing before her, Viola hovering behind them, crying. Huw scooped her up in his big bear arms and carried her through the woods, through the night.
21
Una
Elspeth is sitting in her favourite chair in the lounge, pretending to read a book. I’ve come to realize it’s her way of sending me to Coventry, as my mum used to say. When she’s in this mood I have no choice but to sit there with her. I have nothing to read as I left my book upstairs, and the one time I brought it down with me Elspeth had stared at me disapprovingly, as though I was slacking. As if I couldn’t do my job properly unless I sat, watchful and quiet, like a guard at Buckingham Palace. She even made a disparaging comment about how I should be ‘expanding’ my reading material to ‘open’ my mind. So I stare into space and try not to feel uncomfortable while, every now and again, puncturing the torturous silence with ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ which she always refuses, probably because she doesn’t want to give me the luxury of going down to the kitchen to talk to Aggie. I’ve come to understand that this is what Elspeth likes to do best: play mind games.
