‘Hey, hey.’ Seeing she was upset, Steve bounded up the stairs. ‘It wasn’t that bad, surely?’ he said, pulling her into his arms.
Strong arms. Tanned and toned from working largely outdoors. Protective arms. He was a good man. A fundamentally nice man, if a little too trusting. Laura relaxed into him, rested her head on his shoulder and allowed herself to feel safe, just for a second. She wished she could stay in his embrace forever, but it was impossible. Her mother would make sure it was. She shook herself mentally. It would be different this time. She would stop her. She had to. She couldn’t lose him. She wouldn’t lose Ollie.
‘It was,’ she said, easing away from him. ‘She can be a bit … dictatorial sometimes.’ With no way to tell him why she was so distraught, she improvised. ‘It drives me mad.’
‘I’m sure she’s just trying to look out for you.’ Steve followed her to the bedroom.
Control me, Laura thought.
‘My mum was always telling me I should do this and do that,’ Steve went on good-humouredly. ‘Course, I thought I knew better. Turns out she was right, more often than not.’
He’d obviously had a normal child/parent relationship. He’d certainly loved his father. She envied him that. He wouldn’t be quite so charitable about Sherry if he knew why Laura could never feel that way about her.
‘She’ll be back,’ he said reassuringly.
‘I’m sure she will,’ Laura muttered, and set about looking for the photograph her mother had discarded somewhere. She didn’t want Steve seeing it.
‘You sure you’re all right?’ he asked as she plucked the discarded clothes Sherry had brought her from the bed, hoping the photograph was underneath. It wasn’t there.
‘Yes, fine, honestly.’ Scouring the floor around her, she gave him a distracted smile. ‘She just rubs me up the wrong way sometimes, that’s all.’
‘Yep, my mother did that, too.’ Steve sighed. ‘She meant well, though.’
If only. Laura decided she’d rather not get into that conversation.
‘I’ll just have a quick shower,’ Steve said, ‘and then I’ll grab something out of the freezer for dinner. Unless you fancy takeaway or a pub meal? Might cheer you up a bit.’
‘Takeaway would be lovely.’ Laura managed a proper smile. ‘Thanks for being so thoughtful, Steve.’
‘No problem. I think I’d rather have that than my cooking.’ He gave her a warm smile in return and then headed for the bed, dropping down on it to take off shoes.
Laura willed him to hurry up as he bent to unlace them, and then scrunched her eyes closed as he delved under the divan, clearly having spotted something. Her heart leapt into her mouth as he drew out what she’d known he inevitably would.
‘Is this what you’re looking for?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Thanks,’ she said, her voice strained. She stepped towards him, her hand outstretched to retrieve the photo, but he held onto to it, a frown crossing his face as he studied it.
After a blood-freezing moment, he looked up at her. ‘Someone you know?’
Fourteen
Sarah
Up early the next morning, having not slept a wink, Sarah made herself a coffee and then keyed in a text to Joe. Hesitating before sending it, she reread it: I know you think I’m being paranoid, but I’m not, I promise. There’s such a thing as a mother’s instinct, Joe, and mine is screaming at me that something is off. If I can’t talk to you about it, then I’m wondering if we have a future.
Agonising for a second longer, she braced herself and then hit send.
She hadn’t been angry with Steve when they’d split. They’d limped along for a while, but she’d known it was inevitable. They’d grown apart, fallen out of love. She was beginning to feel angry with him now, though, his being so stridently defensive of Laura. How much did he really know about her, at the end of the day?
Checking her phone and finding no reply from Joe, she shrugged, as if it wouldn’t hurt unbearably losing someone she cared deeply about and who she’d thought cared for her, then gathered herself and went back upstairs, careful not to make a sound in case she woke Ollie.
Hearing him already awake and chatting – to one of his toys, presumably – she paused, smiling, outside his bedroom door. She loved listening to how his imagination worked. Part of her hoped he wasn’t talking to Mr Whale, though, who she saw as a bit of an intruder, which she supposed could be deemed neurotic. She hadn’t yet spoken to Ollie about Bunny. She would have to – she needed to establish whether he’d somehow got hold of scissors and cut the ear off – but she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. He might be distraught if he knew nothing about it. She would fish a little, she decided. Refer casually to Bunny and gauge his reaction.
Talking of fish … She leaned closer to the door. ‘Did Mummy starfish give you some sweeties when you took little starfish home?’ he was saying, his voice filled with awe.
Sarah hadn’t even realised he knew what a starfish was. It had obviously come from Laura. Perhaps they’d had a conversation around Mr Whale’s habitat?
‘Uh-huh,’ Ollie went on, as if he really were having a conversation with someone. An invisible friend, perhaps?
‘When I’m four, I’m going to be a superhero too,’ he continued chattily, ‘and I’m going to help save all the fishes, just like—’ He stopped abruptly as the alarm on Sarah’s phone sounded, almost giving her heart failure – and probably making Ollie jump out of his jim-jams, since she was standing right outside his door.
Pushing the door open, she went in to find him peering worriedly over his duvet, which he’d pulled up to his chin. Poor thing, he obviously had been startled. ‘Hi, munchkin,’ she said, giving him a bright smile. ‘Sorry about that. Mummy woke up early and forgot to turn her phone off. Did it frighten you?’
‘No.’ Ollie shook his head adamantly. ‘Superheroes don’t get frightened,’ he assured her, his little face serious.
‘Course they don’t.’ Sitting on the edge of his bed, Sarah matched his expression with a serious one of her own. ‘Except maybe for the people they’re going to save?’ she suggested.
‘And the fishes. They save them too,’ Ollie added, his big eyes widening with excitement.
‘And the fishes.’ Sarah glanced at him curiously. ‘Who were you talking to?’ she asked, giving his hair a ruffle. A sudden chill prickled her skin as she wondered whether Laura had used the same scissors she’d cut his fringe with to chop his bunny’s ear off.
Ollie immediately glanced down without answering, which was unusual. He was normally such a chatterbox once they got on to the subject of superheroes.
‘Ollie?’ she prompted him.
Still no answer. In fact, shrinking back down under his duvet, he looked reluctant to talk to her.
‘Mummy asked you a question, sweetheart,’ Sarah said softly. ‘Do you not want to tell me?’
Ollie’s eyes flicked to hers. ‘It’s a secret,’ he whispered, dropping his gaze again.