‘Please, Mummy. Please.’
‘Leah,’ George’s voice a warning.
‘No.’ I turn away so he can’t see my tears. The one-day letter crinkles in my dressing-gown pocket. I haven’t even opened it.
‘You can’t stop him going because of… last night.’ George’s voice drips exasperation. He thinks it’s the beetles that are stopping me taking Archie to nursery, when in fact it is the man who had put them there.
‘But I want to go, Mummy.’ Archie slams his beaker on the table. ‘We’re going on a minibus and I wanted cheese dippers for my packed lunch.’ The proposed outing to the nature reserve to gather things for an autumn table has been the source of much excitement.
‘You could go on the trip with him?’ I offer George a compromise. I don’t want to let Archie out of my sight but I know how disappointed he is. The outing had originally been diarised for a couple of Fridays ago but due to staff illness had been rescheduled for today. I’d hoped that, now it was taking place on a weekend, George would be free.
‘I’ve got to work.’
‘It’s Saturday,’ I hiss.
‘All the more reason for Archie to get out and have some fun.’
‘One more day,’ I say to George. ‘Why can’t you give me one more day and then it will all be over…’
‘Until next time,’ he snaps. ‘I have to know you’re capable of looking after Archie, Leah—’
‘How dare you even insinuate I’m not!’
‘But we can trust Rebecca to look after Archie.’ The connotation is that he does not trust me. Years of dealing with the anniversary, tiptoeing around my triggers and the horrors of the past has taken its toll on George. It has taken its toll on us. He’s right although I am loath to admit it. Even after tomorrow it won’t be over. It will never be over.
‘Please, Mummy, please, Mummy, please Mummy.’
‘No!’ I shout and Archie bursts into tears. ‘I’m sorry.’ I rush over to him and wrap him in my arms.
‘If Mummy won’t let you go on your trip’ – George doesn’t say can’t and in this moment I feel as resentful of his lack of understanding as he is of my foibles – ‘then perhaps she’ll take you to the park and you can gather some things to take in on Monday.’
‘Yes! Park. Park. Park.’ Archie’s tears instantly dry.
‘Please come?’ I ask George.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve really got to go to this meeting. Can you manage, Leah?’
Power of attorney. Diminished mental capacity.
‘Yes.’
As soon as George has left I call Carly to ask if she can come with me but I can barely hear her. Her voice almost gone. On a whim I ring Tash to see if she fancies a walk but she tells me she has an emergency dentist’s appointment for a throbbing tooth.
I am on my own.
‘Mummy, too fast!’ Archie tries to wriggle his hand free of mine but I hold on tightly as we march past the newsagent’s where I had seen him last night on the way home from parents’ evening. As the road widens I begin to feel a little safer. There’s more traffic. Pedestrians stare at their mobile phones as they somehow weave around each other. There are several dog walkers, leads gripped in hands.
The park is busy. There’s a pang of nostalgia as I eye the baby swings. Remember lifting Archie who stretched his pudgy arms towards me. Gently patting his bottom to see how full his nappy was. Now he tries to run towards the play equipment. I pull him back.
‘We’re here for the nature table, remember?’
‘Just a little, tiny go on the slide.’ He presses his thumb and index finger together before opening them a fraction. ‘One small go?’ he asks forlornly.
‘One,’ I say. Although I feel unsettled here, I felt equally unsettled at home. At least now there’s safety in numbers, I think, as I glance around at the other mums. Archie thunders up the steps, no careful climbing for him although he does at least hold the handrail. He whizzes down and the joy on his face breaks through my agitation.
‘Go on,’ I say before he can ask for another go. After the slide it’s the roundabout. The climbing frame. It’s here he falters, not yet brave enough to climb higher than five rungs, not appreciating that the slide he loves is even taller. ‘Shall we go find some leaves and stuff?’ I ask.
‘What stuff shall we find?’ He slips his hand into mine, tired now. I’m glad I let him run off some of his energy in the playground.
‘Treasure?’
‘Pirates?’
‘Parrots?’
We play our word association game while Archie gathers leaves, twigs, stones and pine cones. He heaps them into my hand. I should have brought a bag to put them in, my jacket doesn’t have pockets and they’ll get crushed in my jeans. I glance around. There’s an old lady to my left, waiting while her dog cocks his leg up a tree.
‘I’m going to ask that lady if she’ll let us have some poo bags,’ I say. Archie doubles over in laughter.
‘Poo! For poo! We’re having a poo!’
‘Shh.’ The lady is watching us now. I cross over to her and explain what I need and why. She holds open a bag while I tip Archie’s discoveries inside and then she gives me another.
‘Archie.’ I turn, pleased that we have a spare bag to fill. ‘Archie?’
There’s a sick feeling in my stomach as I scan the spot Archie was standing in. It’s empty.
‘Archie!’ I shout but there is no ‘Mummy’ to let me know he is nearby. There are no footsteps.
‘Archie!’ I scream again.
Three steps away. I was only three steps away, but in the brief seconds I was talking to the lady he has vanished.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Carly
Then
Carly wished they were invisible. Out in the open she felt horribly exposed. Driven by the wind, rain lashed into their faces. The sky a dark, angry grey. Night was drawing in quickly.
‘Where do we go?’ asked Leah. Underneath the desperation that dripped from her voice nestled a thin layer of hope that her big sister would know what to do.
Carly frantically looked around as though the way out would suddenly materialize, like the Tardis. She wished she’d paid more attention to Mr Webster’s class when he’d shared the photos of the base. She could vaguely remember him highlighting the main building on the aerial view but she couldn’t remember which direction the town was in. They walked – more slowly than Carly would like but they were all weak, Marie most of all. Carly kept her eyes trained on the ground, seeking out footprints, tyre tracks, anything that might lay a Hansel and Gretel trail and lead them back the way they had come in. But the earth was slippy with rain and anything that might have been visible once had been washed away. One leaden foot in front of the other, progress was painfully slow. Carly could hear the laboured breathing of Leah and Marie. Fleetingly she wondered whether they should have waited until morning. At least in the ballroom they’d been dry but they’d had nothing to eat or drink and Carly knew they’d have less energy than they did right now.
The weather was vile, fog swirling around them. Carly imagined they looked like three small ghosts wandering around the base, and again she thought of the tales of dead soldiers. She held the girls’ hands a little tighter.