Marie told her where she wanted to go and Carly wished she had never asked.
‘Carly. I do love you. Sisters.’ Marie offers her little finger: ‘A pinkie promise can’t be broke, Or you’ll disappear in a puff of smoke…’ Carly didn’t join in, leaving her arms by her sides. Marie trailed off.
Sisters.
But they weren’t, not really. Her and mum. Leah, Marie and Dad. Two jigsaw pieces forced together to try and complete a picture of a happy family but they didn’t fit.
Marie dropped her hand but still wore the trace of a smile on her lips. Anger burned among Carly’s confusion. Marie looked different. Lighter somehow. Relieved to have shared her secret or relived she was getting her fix. Once again, Carly felt unimportant and alone.
‘Shall we go?’ Marie was bouncing on the balls of her feet, eager to leave. There was no more conversation. No explanation. No further apology.
Although a thousand sorrys couldn’t eradicate the utter despair Carly felt as she trailed Marie down the stairwell.
Her.
It was only ever meant to be her who was taken.
Carly remembers the teeming rain as she had pulled up outside the bank. She remembers withdrawing her daily limit of five hundred pounds. Even if that hadn’t been her limit, there was no more money left to give. Back in the car she had followed Marie’s directions to a pub, wooden boards criss-crossing its windows, paint flaking from the DOG AND DUCK sign swinging cheerily in the breeze. Marie turned to Carly. There was so much Carly wanted to say. So much she wanted to ask. Marie gave a barely detectable nod and attempted a smile, her eyes bright with tears.
‘Say something,’ Carly screamed in her head. ‘Make me understand why I was the one to be sacrificed.’ But Marie was already clicking open the door. The wind blustered inside the car, coating Carly’s cheeks with rain. Carly didn’t care about the weather. Her cheeks were already wet with tears. Marie crossed her arms over her chest and hurried over the road.
From out of the alley stepped a man. He gripped Marie’s chin with his thumb and forefinger before spitting on the pavement beside her. The rain plastered Marie’s hair to her scalp, her thin jacket soaked through. Carly watched as Marie plucked notes from the bundle Carly had given her. He counted them with one hand, the other he thrust between Marie’s legs, laughing as she flinched and backed away. He held out a small parcel and she snatched it before backing off again. He followed her further down the street.
Carly looked around, wondering if anyone would help Marie, but the man’s eyes flickered upwards and Carly saw he’d glanced at the CCTV camera. They continued talking but this time he kept his distance. Carly couldn’t bear to watch any more. Marie had made her choice just as Carly had made hers. She shifted the car into first gear and pulled away. In her rear-view mirror she saw the man hold out something to Marie who snatched it and put it in her pocket before walking away. Carly braked. Her fingers drumming on the steering wheel. If she reverses it would never end. She would never break free. Marie was a mess. They all were a mess.
Family.
Except they weren’t now. Not really. They had made their choice to single out Carly. Her parents. Her sisters.
Marie raised her arm at a passing cab. Carly took comfort that she was off the streets at least.
She released the handbrake and drove away but as she was passing a lay-by she pulled in, rested her forehead on the steering wheel and wept.
By the time Carly arrived home, anger was again her overriding emotion. She picked up the phone and, pacing the lounge, she called the only person who could make her feel better.
‘Hello.’
‘Mum’ was all she could say before she was crying again. One word. Three letters that should mean so many things – love, protection, stability, strength – and it didn’t mean any of them.
‘Carly? What’s wrong?’ There was concern in her mum’s voice but this only made Carly cry harder.
She wiped her nose with her sleeve and tried to stem her tears. ‘Marie has told me.’
‘Told you what?’
‘Everything.’
There’s a pause. The sound of her mum’s breath coming faster. ‘It’s not true,’ she said at last.
‘So you know what I’m talking about?’ Carly slumped onto her sofa.
‘What? No, of course not. Just… just that Marie drinks too much and whatever she’s told you is probably a lie. What did she say?’
‘You knew,’ Carly said softly.
‘I didn’t… I swear…’
‘You. Knew,’ Carly said, louder this time.
‘It was complicated. We were in a terrible situation. I thought we were doing the right thing for you all. If you were a parent you’d understand—’
‘And whose fault is it I don’t have a family of my own? That I can’t bear the thought of ending up like Leah. Terrified that every time Archie is out of her sight someone will take him, and I would be like that. Scared that I’d brought a child into a world that is full of monsters. You, Mum. You’re a monster.’
‘Don’t say that. I…’ Her mum was crying. It was the first time in years Carly had felt any emotion from her.
‘Was it really only ever meant to be me that was taken? Not Leah or Marie?’
‘Yes. Just you.’ Her mum’s voice was thin.
Carly waited. Prepared to listen. Desperate to understand.
‘Are you going to tell anyone? The police?’ her mum asked. Questions not apologies. Worried for herself, not for her daughter. Carly let the phone drop from her hand. She scrunched herself into a ball of sorrow.
Later, Carly’s phone buzzed with a message. She unfurled herself and rubbed her sore eyes before picking up her handset, convinced it would be her mum.
It wasn’t.
The text was from Marie.
So sorry for what we put you through. Back to where it all started. My final dance. You don’t have to worry about me again.
Carly didn’t hesitate. She scooped up her car keys and raced to Norwood. It was dark when she arrived. Shining her mobile ahead of her for light, she made for the room they’d been held captive in. Carly felt fevered. Detached. As though she was having a hallucination. The room was smaller than she remembered but empty. Dizziness engulfed her and she realized she wasn’t breathing. She didn’t want to breathe this filthy fucking air. She ran back outside.
‘Marie!’
Where could she be? Had she got it wrong and she wasn’t at Norwood at all? Her eyes scanned the text. Two words sprang out: last dance.
‘Marie!’ Carly raced towards the ballroom. Her feet slip-sliding in the mud. Skidding on the steps. She crunched over broken glass, hurdled over upturned benches in the cinema briefing room.
Marie was in the ballroom, slumped on a pile of blankets. Her belt tightened around her arm, needle protruding from her vein. The expression on her face was peaceful, happy almost. Carly dropped hard onto her knees. Fingers fumbling for a pulse, but the blood in Marie’s veins was still. Carly held her for a long time. Loving her and hating her all at once. Envying her too. She had found the peace they’d all craved.
She didn’t know what to do. Again, she was left feeling to blame. Carrying the burden of guilt. If she hadn’t given Marie the money she’d still be alive. It was always her fault.