Darling Girls, page 24
She turned to face her sister. ‘You told her?’
She recalled the day they’d reported Miss Fairchild. Jessica running back inside for her schoolbag. Jessica had tipped her off that she needed to erase every trace of Amy.
‘How could you do that?’ Norah cried.
A tear dripped off Jessica’s chin.
‘You three might be thick as thieves now,’ Miss Fairchild said, clearly enjoying herself, ‘but Jessica was loyal to me before she even met you. She probably always will be.’ She looked triumphant.
Norah’s fists began to clench.
‘Just to be clear,’ Alicia said to Miss Fairchild, ‘there’s only one person we blame for any of this, and that’s you.’
Miss Fairchild rolled her eyes. ‘Lucky me,’ she said. ‘Getting to be the scapegoat for all of your troubles!’
She gave an odd little laugh as she walked a few paces towards her car.
‘You’re only a scapegoat if you didn’t actually do the thing you’re being accused of,’ Norah said.
Miss Fairchild stopped, turned. ‘Which is what? Killing a child?’ She laughed. ‘What I want to know is, if I’m supposed to be a child killer, why did I let the three of you live?’
It was a good question, Norah realised. One that none of them had an answer for.
‘The truth is,’ Miss Fairchild continued, turning back towards her car, ‘I’m as keen as you are to find out who is under that house and how they got there.’
49
JESSICA
‘I barely touched her,’ Norah said to Meera, who was already asking questions.
‘She hit the wall,’ Jessica pointed out, closing the door to their cottage. But she didn’t care. At the moment, she found it hard to care about anything. She sat on the arm of the sofa, wrapping her arms around herself, where Miss Fairchild’s arms had just been. She could still feel the warmth of her skin. Still smell her.
Alicia looked at Meera. ‘What happens if she claims Norah assaulted her?’
‘The only witness is Jessica, so she can say what she wants.’
Meera’s face was completely straight. Alicia smiled. Norah gave her a high five.
‘The other incident is trickier,’ Meera continued. ‘A report has been filed. But we can talk about that later.’
‘Jess,’ Alicia said, ‘about what Miss Fairchild said out there, I meant what I said: Norah and I could never blame you for telling Miss Fairchild we were going to report her. Never ever.’
Jessica looked at Norah, whose expression was far less forgiving.
‘She groomed you to please her, ever since you were a little girl,’ Alicia continued more loudly, as if to make up for Norah. ‘You think we would blame you for that?’
‘You may not blame me, but I blame myself.’ Jessica’s eyes filled. ‘I blamed myself even when I thought we’d imagined Amy. But now . . .’ Her voice cracked and she stopped, took a breath. ‘If hers is the body under the house, it’s my fault.’
‘No,’ Alicia said, shaking her head. ‘No.’
Jessica was nodding. ‘It is. I never intended to tell her. When I went back into the house, I was just going to get my bag. But then I saw Miss Fairchild sitting with Amy, singing to her.’ She wiped away a tear with her fist. ‘I was jealous. I knew how to ingratiate myself with Miss Fairchild. And so I did what I always did: I told her what we were planning to do. I’d done it all my life. All those times you wondered how she knew stuff – it was me.’ Now she was sobbing. ‘I didn’t expect her to kill Amy. She didn’t have a lot of time, but she probably had enough. And all because I was jealous of a toddler.’
Everyone was quiet. After a moment, Norah opened her mouth to speak.
‘Don’t . . .’ Jessica held up her hands like stop signs. ‘Please don’t say anything. I’m not ready. I think we should all go to bed now. We can talk in the morning.’
She felt like a zombie – like she was sleepwalking – as she closed her bedroom door. Oddly untethered, she seemed to be feeling everything and nothing at once. It reminded her of having a local anaesthetic for stitches, how you could feel the doctor tugging your skin but you couldn’t feel the pain. But with it went the knowledge that once the injection wore off, the pain would hit. Jessica didn’t know if she would be able to withstand it.
She sat on the bed. She needed sleep. Deep, dreamless sleep. On her bedside table sat her just-in-case vial of Valium and a bottle of water. She didn’t pause to think; she just tipped two pills into her hand, popped them into her mouth, and washed them down with water. She was about to lie back down when she changed her mind and reached for the pills again. Tipped out a few more. And a few more after that. A swill of water and the job was done. Finally. Sleep was coming.
THE OFFICE OF DR WARREN, PSYCHIATRIST
The next time I see Dr Warren, he is asking questions before I even sit down.
‘So you were in the basement,’ he says. ‘What was the plan for when the baby came?’
‘That’s what I wanted to know. My mother didn’t seem to have any idea.
‘“I’ll ask John,” she said when I asked, which was her answer to everything. Sometimes I wondered what the hell she was thinking about. I’d started to notice bruises on her, more and more each time. On her arms mostly, and occasionally her face. Once, she had a ring of bruises around the base of her throat. So it was possible that she was thinking about that. She was so entirely under John’s thumb . . . which meant I was too.
‘“Don’t lock the door,” I’d beg every time she left.
‘“I’m sorry,” she always said, before latching it shut.
‘When I pressed her, she told me the plan was to say the baby was hers. It felt weak to me. Mum seemed too old to have a baby – though she was in her mid-forties, so I supposed it was possible.
‘“But what’s going to happen when I go into labour?” I demanded. “Who will take me to the hospital?”
‘When she finally responded, I wished I’d never asked.
‘“You’ll give birth here,” she told me. “I’ve been doing some reading about home birth. It’s how most women give birth in India and Africa. It’s going to be fine.”
‘“Will you listen to yourself?” I cried. “What would Dad say if he knew you had locked me in a dungeon and were planning to deliver my child in secret? What if I go into labour and you don’t know because I’m down here? The baby could die. I could die!”
‘She looked me right in the eye, and for a second I thought I might have reached her. But then she turned and walked up the stairs.
‘The door was closed. Latched. And the last piece of my sanity smashed into a million pieces.’
Dr Warren just sits there, shaking his head. ‘This wasn’t in your file.’
‘Well, no,’ I say. ‘It wouldn’t be, would it?’
‘So you had the baby at home?’ he said. ‘In the basement?’
‘I went into labour a month before Mum thought I would, but considering I’d had no ultrasounds to confirm my due date, that wasn’t a huge surprise. I’d had cramping on and off all day – Braxton Hicks contractions, Mum said, after consulting her library book. I knew it was more than Braxton Hicks. A woman knows. Equally, I had no interest in telling my mother that I was in labour. I’d have sooner delivered the baby dead than allow her to assist me.
‘When labour began in earnest, it was hard and fast and blindingly painful. The pains got worse and worse until I thought I might die . . . but then I reached down and felt her tiny, warm head. I can’t even begin to describe the experience to you – it was awful and wonderful, and . . . and I’d never felt so vitally important.’
Dr Warren inhales deeply, shaking his head. ‘You gave birth alone, in the basement?’
I nod. ‘Her name came to me as I held her to my chest. Amy was a character in a book I’d read. In the book, her mother said she’d chosen the name for its meaning – beloved. I’d never heard anything more perfect.’
I reach up and flick away a rogue tear.
‘I had no scissors to cut the cord, so Amy remained attached to me until my mother brought my breakfast in the morning.’
‘Wow,’ Dr Warren says. ‘An experience like that. I can see how that would change you.’
‘It does,’ I say. ‘It did. But not nearly as much as what happened next.’
50
NORAH
‘Meera?’
Alicia and Meera were headed back to Alicia’s room when Norah stopped them.
‘Before you go and do whatever it is you lesbians do, could I have a word?’
‘Can’t it wait, Norah?’ Alicia asked. ‘It’s been a long day.’
‘It’s just . . .’ She felt awkward suddenly. Norah wasn’t used to feeling awkward. ‘I could use some legal advice.’
‘It’s fine, Al,’ Meera said, sitting back down on the couch next to Norah. ‘Is Anna not working out?’
‘It’s not that,’ Norah said. ‘Anna’s great. It’s about . . . something else.’
She shot a glance at Alicia, who looked panicked.
‘What have you done?’ Alicia asked, looking defeated. She fell into the armchair.
‘It’s not a big deal,’ Norah said. ‘But remember that guy I punched on Friday? He’s asked me to make a porn video.’
Alicia whimpered, dropping her head into her hands.
But Meera was unflustered. ‘Alicia, there’s a notepad in my bag, can you grab it?’ Then she looked at Norah. ‘Let’s start at the beginning.’
51
ALICIA
‘What’s going to happen to Norah?’ Alicia asked Meera, when they were finally back in Alicia’s bedroom.
It was after midnight by the time Norah and Meera had finished talking. Meera had been reassuring, as she always was, but now that it was just the two of them, Alicia wanted to understand what this really meant for her sister.
‘As far as the CCO goes,’ Meera said, ‘it will depend on the judge. But given the extenuating circumstances – specifically, the fact that she’d just learned about the bones being found under the foster home in which she’d spent her childhood – I’d hope the judge would be lenient.’
‘And what about Kevin?’ Alicia seethed even saying his name. She wanted to punch that weasel-ferret man in the face – and felt oddly glad that that was exactly what Norah had done, even if it was what had got her into this mess. More than anything, though, she felt weak with gratitude that Norah had decided to confide in Meera before sending him the goddamn porn video he was requesting.
Norah had been quite matter-of-fact in her reporting of events to Meera, but Alicia knew her well enough to see how rattled she was. Even though Norah was perhaps the most dangerous person Alicia knew, she was also one of the most vulnerable. And no matter how old they were, Alicia would never be able to turn off her instinct to protect her sister. Neither would Jessica, she knew.
‘Kevin messed with the wrong girl,’ Meera said evenly. ‘And we’re gonna nail his arse to the wall.’
Despite everything, Alicia smiled. ‘Is that a promise?’
Meera smiled back. ‘Have I ever let you down?’
‘No,’ Alicia said. ‘Which makes me feel so much worse.’
She sank onto the bed, which she was planning to offer to Meera for the night. It was the least she could do. ‘I’m so sorry about all of this. You really got more than you bargained for when you came here. Dysfunctional sisters, criminal charges, a run-in with my monster of a former foster mother.’
Meera remained standing. ‘It makes sense,’ she said thoughtfully.
Alicia wasn’t sure what she was referring to. There were so many possibilities. ‘What makes sense?’
‘The fact that kindness, or hearing anyone say nice things to you, would make you cry, after the childhood you had.’
Alicia didn’t respond.
‘When cruelty becomes familiar in your tender, adolescent years, of course you start to become comfortable with it. You believe you deserve it. But you don’t.’
Now Meera sat down on the bed too. Alicia risked a look at her. It was a mistake. Her brown eyes were too warm, too full of understanding. Tears began to well in Alicia’s eyes immediately.
‘What I’m telling you is nothing you haven’t told a hundred foster kids, Al. And you know what else you tell them? That they will learn to become familiar with kindness if they open their hearts to it.’
Alicia looked at the carpet. It was very hard to shrug Meera off when she was speaking the truth. Alicia thought of all the foster kids she’d worked with who’d been unable to process kindness. One of her long-term cases, a teenage boy called Marco, used to punch himself in the face reflexively every time someone gave him a compliment. Marco had done quite well in therapy. The last time she saw him, she’d told him it was good to see him, and he’d grinned in response.
‘I know you’re not a fan of therapy,’ Meera said. ‘But if it helps you to move forward, isn’t it worth it? It’s going to be pretty hard to have a relationship if I can’t ever say a nice word to you.’
Alicia glanced up in surprise. ‘A . . . relationship?’
‘Yours and mine,’ Meera clarified. ‘Our relationship. And all your other relationships, I guess. It can only be a good thing, right?’
Alicia stared at her. Surely, after everything that had happened, Meera wasn’t sticking around? There was only so much a person could take, right?
Alicia opened her mouth to tell Meera this, but her throat clogged with tears. Meera tugged her shoulder, and Alicia fell against her, heaving.
‘You are beautiful, Alicia,’ she said. ‘Kind. Loving. Smart.’ She paused, and Alicia felt her smile. ‘And it has to be said, I fucking love your right breast.’
She was still crying when they began kissing, and when Meera started to peel off Alicia’s clothes. This time, she cried and cried . . . but she didn’t push Meera away.
Afterwards, lying with her head on Meera’s shoulder, Alicia felt bone-tired. Yet sleep wouldn’t come. It was as if there were a fly in the room; something was buzzing around in her head and she yearned to swat it away.
‘What is it?’ Meera asked, when Alicia finally sat up.
‘It’s Jessica.’ Alicia turned on the lamp. ‘I’m worried about her. She didn’t seem herself tonight. I want to check on her.’
Meera patted her leg and smiled. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Go check.’
Walking into the living room, Alicia bumped into Norah.
‘What the hell?’ Alicia cried. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Checking on Jessica.’
‘You too?’
Norah nodded. ‘She doesn’t seem right. She won’t be asleep . . . let’s go talk to her.’
And so they barged into Jessica’s room with the confidence of sisters. But to their surprise, Jessica was asleep. The hallway light illuminated her, curled up on her side, hands clasped in prayer under one ear. Drool shimmered down the side of her face. She was snoring.
‘We can talk to her in the morning,’ Alicia said.
They were about to close the door, when Norah said: ‘Did she vomit?’
Alicia opened the door again. On second look, she saw that Norah was right. It wasn’t drool on Jessica’s face. It was vomit.
As they crept towards her, Alicia noticed a bottle of pills on the bedside table. She hurried over and seized it. Benzodiazepines.
She flicked on the bedside light. Jessica’s lips were blue.
‘Call an ambulance!’ Alicia shouted at Norah. Turning, she slapped Jessica hard across the face and waited for her to sit up angrily and ask what the fuck they were doing. She didn’t. Her eyes remained closed. The snoring sound they’d heard was actually more of a gurgling. ‘Jesus. Tell them to hurry!’
*
Jessica was rushed out of the ambulance, straight into Emergency. Even Alicia, who’d travelled in the ambulance with her, hadn’t been able to keep up with them, and was stopped at the double doors when she got there.
Meera had followed the ambulance in her car, with Norah in the passenger seat. Now the three of them stood in front of a tired-looking, ponytailed emergency nurse in scrubs and sneakers who was examining the empty bottle of pills.
‘Ada Rogers,’ she said, reading the name on the label aloud. ‘Any idea who that is?’
Alicia and Norah shook their heads. Alicia had never heard of Ada Rogers.
‘Were you aware your sister was abusing benzos?’
They blinked at each other stupidly. The humiliating thing was that they’d always considered themselves so close. Closer even than biological sisters, they’d tell people. They felt each other’s feelings before they felt them themselves. It had been a source of pride; a badge of honour.
And yet they hadn’t known.
It was true Alicia had thought Jessica was acting strangely. She’d even asked if she was on something – but she hadn’t really meant it. Why had she allowed herself to be so easily reassured? Why hadn’t she pushed it? Jessica had been unnaturally calm; Alicia should have known something was wrong.
‘Are you sure this is the drug your sister took?’ the nurse asked.
‘No,’ Alicia said. ‘But this is what we found at her bedside.’
‘Was she taking any other substances that you’re aware of? Any opioids?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Alicia said. She looked at Norah, who shrugged.
‘Alcohol?’
‘No,’ they said together.
A gurney came flying through Emergency and they all had to squeeze against the wall to allow it to pass. When it was gone, Norah said, ‘She’s going to be okay, right?’
‘It depends on how much she has taken,’ the nurse said. ‘An overdose of benzodiazepines is very serious. It can produce severe and prolonged respiratory distress. Her breathing rate wasn’t great when she arrived.’
Alicia found it hard to hear the words. She was too focused on the nurse’s serious expression. She hadn’t immediately reassured them. She wasn’t smiling and telling them Jessica would be okay. She looked sober. Guarded. It scared the crap out of Alicia.
