‘She did? OK, I’ll tell the teacher. You didn’t do anything wrong, honey,’ said Savannah.
Clary had behaved precisely as a scared child would.
Calum’s car was, of course, there when they drove in.
Savannah got out of the car, stealing herself. She would not let him bully Clary. She would not. Could not let that happen.
Calum didn’t start immediately. He let Savannah come in and chatter to Clary as she made her some hot chocolate.
‘Now, let’s make you nice and cosy in front of the telly,’ Savannah said to her daughter, filling the air with talk so Calum wouldn’t have a moment to break in.
Clary said nothing. Just sat mutely, while her mother arranged her all squashed up on the couch, blankets around her, even though it was warm, and put the TV on quite loudly in case there was shouting. Up till that point, Calum had almost smiled.
He was waiting for her in the kitchen. Smiling time over.
‘What the fuck was that about?’ he hissed. ‘Did you find out?’
‘I don’t know. There was a lot of shouting and she got upset.’
‘Was she involved? Who did it? Did someone hurt her?’
‘No, she wasn’t involved, she just heard it and it upset her.’
‘Ah, for fuck’s sake. It’s all your fault, you know.’
Savannah could have written the script and yet even though she knew what was coming next, every part of her, every muscle, every cell in her body, tensed in expectation of the onslaught.
‘She’s totally spoiled. She won’t hang around with the kids in school except with the little fucker Daniel, and his family are so low rent.’
In his rage, he wrenched open the fridge, started pulling things out, throwing them on the counter. ‘Look at this, shop-bought ready meals.’ He started throwing them on the floor.
‘I suppose that’s what Daniel’s family are into – ready-meals. How is she going to grow up into a woman to take her place in society, to go out like a person with a bit of class. Ballet, that’s what she should be doing: not playing with bloody Daniel. She’s too introverted, has her head stuck in a book too much.’
‘Books are good,’ said Savannah. She was trying to fight back.
‘She’s hanging around with the wrong kids because she has a stupid mother like you. You’re useless. My mother said you ruined Clary. She needs a decent girls’ school, not one with boys where she learns to be a hoyden.’
His face was contorted now, full of rage and contempt. And one part of Savannah knew this was unacceptable, one tiny part of her and yet all the other parts of her quailed at his anger and his fury, all this rage directed at her.
‘You’ve got to do something about her.’
‘I will,’ she said and instantly felt shame flood her. She was letting Clary down.
‘I expect something new in this house this summer. Ballet camp or something, where she can mix with the right sort of girls. You need to sort that out.’
‘I will, I will.’
‘You always say you will,’ he said. His voice dripping with contempt, she could feel it sliding off each word like acid burning into the ground. ‘But you never do anything. How often have we had these conversations?’
Conversations, she thought. These weren’t conversations, these were diatribes.
‘How many times have we had this talk about her making new friends and you do nothing? Nothing.’
And the absolute fear swept over her. Of course, he was right. She was stupid; it was all her fault, she was failing Clary, failing him, and she had to do better, had to do the right thing. And her eyes flooded and the tears began to drip down her face, like the monsoon.
‘Oh, spare me the tears,’ he said, ‘just do something. Do something. Really, you make me sick. I’m going back to work. I’ll be late.’ He swept out of the room and Savannah leaned against the wall and slid down it until she was crouched down, like a child, her face buried in her dress. She felt like nothing. She was failing, failing Clary, failing Calum. Just a failure. But she had to do something. For Clary. She had to.
Rory was suffering from hen-night hangover. She’d lain in bed till late thanking all the goddesses in the world and in the heavens that she’d taken the week off. There was no way she could have got up for work.
