Angela reaches for her purse. ‘All this talk of cake is too tempting. I need goodies! Won’t be a mo. Behave yourself, Jasmine.’
Fen stands up. ‘I’ll come with you. I told Rob I’d get him a newspaper.’
They go off together, chatting, and I’m left with the girls, who seem to be having a contest to see how wide they can smile!
My heart swells with emotion. I love seeing Eva enjoying herself like this. If I could, I’d treat her all the time because she so deserves it. She gets so little, compared to her friends at school. Imagine if Christmas could simply be a joy from start to finish, instead of the headache it usually is, trying to make the big day magical for Eva on a tight budget. I dream of being able to take her somewhere sunny on holiday – somewhere with a pool and slides, which she’d absolutely love.
One day…
But at least she’s happy right now, giggling away with Jasmine about when they were asked to dress up as elves for the class Christmas party and one boy got it wrong and turned up as Elvis.
Fen and Angela are walking back with their newspapers, deep in conversation. They catch my eye and stop talking, and my heart misses a beat. Oh God, were they discussing us? Eva and me? Pondering that things must be bad if I can’t even afford to give my daughter a party.
But no, I’m just being paranoid.
Reaching for my purse, I open it and run my fingers over the credit card inside. I swore I’d never use it again – but I’m determined Eva’s birthday will be special. It just has to be.
Dark memories rise up, making my stomach shift. The constant panic I felt being in debt the last time. But I push the images away and keep on smiling…
*****
The anxious feeling is still there when we get home.
Eva disappears into her bedroom and I put the kettle on and make hot chocolate for us both. Then I call her in.
‘I’m busy, Mummy,’ she calls back.
I pop my head round the door. She’s sitting on her bed, drawing something on a sheet of paper on her bedside table. The room is cold and she’s only wearing her thin school jumper and skirt, so I quickly gather up her fleecy pyjamas and dressing gown.
‘Come on, love, let’s get under the duvet and get cosy.’
‘In a minute.’ She’s working hard on her drawing, her tongue appearing every now and then as she concentrates.’
‘Why don’t you bring your drawing through?’ I suggest.
‘I’m finished.’ She looks up. ‘Shall I show you?’
‘Yes, please. But get changed first? And come and have your hot chocolate to warm up.’
‘Okay.’
She leaps up and gets into her night things, then she runs through to the living room with her drawing and her school bag.
At last, we’re snuggled on the sofa, and Eva reaches down for her school bag and brings something out.
‘It’s a Mother’s Day card,’ she says proudly, holding it out. ‘We did them at school today. I drew all those flowers and coloured them in.’
I look at the card with its big bunch of red and yellow flowers and bright green leaves, and my heart melts. Of course. I’d forgotten it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday. The same day as Eva’s birthday. ‘Oh, Eva, that’s lovely. Thank you so much. It must have taken you a very long time to colour in all those petals so carefully.’
‘I tried not to go over the lines,’ she says, leaning close to look at it. ‘Do you like it?’
‘I absolutely love it! Come here!’ I pull her in for a big hug, but she’s clearly keen to show me something else because she pulls away almost immediately.
‘The teacher said we could do cards for Father’s Day as well but not yet. But I made one. Look!’ She holds out the paper, folded in two like a card, with a drawing of a red car on the front with big black wheels.
I swallow hard and focus on the man in the driver’s seat. He’s wearing glasses.
‘That’s Mr Taylor in his car,’ Eva tells me. ‘I don’t have a daddy but the teacher said we could give a card to any person we care about. Can I give it to him?’
‘Yes, of course you can.’ My throat hurts so much, I’m scared to swallow. ‘I’m sure Sean will love it.’
She smiles. ‘Sean the Sheep.’
‘Yes.’ I smooth back a strand of her soft hair.
‘Can we watch a film now?’
‘Of course we can.’
She snuggles into me as the movie starts, and I’m thankful for the diversion. If Eva sees tears shimmering in my tears, she’ll want to know why I’m crying and she’ll be upset. And feeling as I do right now, that will utterly break me…
*****
I’m turning off lights and getting ready to go to bed. I peek in on Eva last of all, as I always do.
My heart swells with love, watching her curled on her side, her blonde hair – the exact shade of mine – spread out on the pillow, her arm around her beloved Edward the Bear. Watching her sleeping so peacefully tugs at my heart and tonight, there’s a lump in my throat as I stand there. What does she dream about? Maybe she’s been transported to the world of Frozen and is playing happily with Elsa and Anna, and of course, her favourite, Olaf, whose antics always make her squeal with laughter.
I want that so much, for my little girl to feel happy and secure. But however much I try to shield her from it, she’ll wake tomorrow to the real world. A world full of uncertainty and dread. The world my own stupidity has brought us to…
I lean against the doorjamb, shivering, trying to quell the familiar panic that rises up all too these days. I force myself to take deep, even breaths. I need to stay strong for Eva.
And maybe, after all, things aren’t as bad as they seem.
I softly pull Eva’s door closed.
Maybe the worst is over? Dare I allow myself to believe that things are changing for the better at last?
A little of the tension flows from my shoulders. It’s true that often, the thing we most fear turns out to be nowhere near as scary as we’d imagined –
A loud rap on the front door makes my heart leap into my mouth.
I freeze as a cold hand twists my insides.
The knocking comes again, more insistent this time. It’s a jolly, cheerful rap, as if the person waiting for me to answer the door is a good friend saying, ‘Hey, it’s only me!’
But the friendly nature of it chills my blood. Because I know who it is.
He’s back.
It’s no use pretending we’re not at home. He knows our circumstances. He knows we wouldn’t be anywhere else but here.
Then I hear the scraping of his key in the lock and I wait for him to realise that he can’t get in. He pushes the door violently against the chain, the rattling loud in the still of the night, and I press my hands to my face in fright.
And now Eva is awake and shouting for me.
I rush to soothe her, kissing her soft tangle of hair and pulling her into a hug. ‘It’s all right, sweetheart. I’ll tell them to go away.’ I force a smile. ‘You snuggle down now and I’ll be back in a jiffy.’
Creeping long the narrow hallway, I peer through the cracked rectangle of bevelled glass in the front door. The black shape of his head makes me shiver. And another furious rattle of the door sets my heart slamming against my ribs. I lean back against the wall, wrapping my arms around my stomach.