Secrets in the Shadows

‘The consequences of this are going to be catastrophic,’ she said, shutting the door behind them.

Once the door was closed, Grace laughed. ‘You’re so funny, Elsie.’

Elsie tried to look adult, but Grace could tell she was struggling to stay serious. A little smile was trying to break through her sister’s lips. It won in the end, and Elsie let out a giggle.

Elsie found her dress eventually. It had been crumpled up in the guest lounge, which, Grace supposed, seemed strange, but she didn’t think much of it at the time. She just wanted to get to Rachel’s party. She saw her mother frown as they pulled away from the kerb, as though something had gone wrong. A few minutes later, their mother jolted the car to a stop and turned round, staring at them in a way that made Grace wish they were already at the party, safe, and where they were meant to be. Her mother’s eyes were wide and scared, and Grace felt a shiver curse down the whole of her body, even though she wasn’t cold.

‘Grace. Come and sit in the front, please,’ her mother said. Even her voice sounded strange, as though she was being strangled.

Elsie obviously hadn’t noticed her mother’s bizarre stare, because she sighed and said, ‘Mum, we’ve already established that we’re late. We haven’t got time to start playing silly games.’

But their mother ignored Elsie. ‘Grace. Now. Otherwise we’re turning around and going home.’

‘Okay, okay.’ Grace clambered out of the back and sat in the front seat, sneaking a glance at her mother and seeing that she already looked much calmer. It was minutes later, when they had reached Rachel Gregory’s wide, pretty street, when a gold car whizzed beside them, and suddenly came closer and closer until there were the horrible sounds of metal on metal and glass on glass, and Elsie screaming.

After the crash, after they had ruined Rachel Gregory’s birthday by making it all about them, and after Elsie had been checked over and given a lollipop that she had pretended to be too old for but crunched on anyway, the twins went home.

Elsie slept when they got back to Rose House, and everybody said that it was for the best, to leave her. But Grace couldn’t rest without thinking about the crash and how they had ruined Rachel Gregory’s party. She was worried about Elsie’s arm, which she had seen soggy with burgundy blood. She tried to watch the comedy programme that her mother had put on for her, but she couldn’t concentrate. So she wandered into the hall, where the telephone was, and dialled Mags’s number.

When Noel answered, he couldn’t tell if it was Elsie or Grace.

‘It’s Grace. I’m glad you answered. I wanted to talk to you.’

She told Noel about the car accident.

‘I know,’ he said when she’d finished. ‘Mum told me. She’ll be coming to see your mum soon.’

Grace told Noel that her mother had made her move seats in the car.

‘That’s strange,’ he said.

Grace nodded, then remembered that he couldn’t see her. ‘Yep,’ she replied.

‘But you’re both okay?’

‘Yeah. Elsie’s worse than me. I’m worried about her arm. It was bleeding a lot. The people at the hospital said it would be fine.’

‘Well, then it will be.’

‘What if it scars? We won’t be the same as each other anymore.’

‘Yes, you will. A scar doesn’t change anything. Not really.’

They chatted some more. Noel told Grace that he had a scar on his right knee from when he fell off his bike when he was six. There had been a lot of blood that day, but the scar was only small now. That made Grace feel better. Perhaps she’d ring Noel again soon.

As she was hanging up, Grace saw Elsie edging down the stairs, wincing with every step. Her face was even paler than normal, and her hair, which was normally plaited or twisted into clips or bands, was hanging down like a pair of dusty black curtains. Grace leaped up the stairs and helped Elsie down to the lounge. They switched over from the comedy and watched cartoons together instead, mocking them and pretending to hate them. The light dipped in the room until the television was the only brightness. The twins heard Mags arrive and bustle into the kitchen. There was always a lot of noise when Mags was around.

‘I’m going to see Mags,’ Elsie said, and disentangled her legs from Grace’s before limping out into the hall.

It was after that day, after the few moments that followed, that Elsie changed: hid in her own shadow and refused to come out into the light.

Now, Grace picks up her shampoo from the side of the bath. Cold water drips from the bottle onto her skin, making her flinch. Elsie will be angry about tonight. But she is the one who is choosing not to come. She could be in her own bath right now, getting ready for dinner, wondering which dress to wear, if only she would trust Grace like she used to, before things changed.

Chapter Seven (#u029027ba-db43-574a-8e5e-eacb5de5a228)

Louisa, 1965

Tomorrow, Louisa decided, she would go for a walk. She would set off after her father’s breakfast, when he was having his morning doze, and she would walk down the hill, to the very bottom. She would call into the shops and buy the things she never bought: fresh flowers, shampoo, and some meat for their dinner. Nancy always bought these things. But tomorrow, Louisa would tell her not to.

And if the morning was taken up with buying fresh flowers and shampoo and meat for dinner, then an afternoon sitting in her brown chair next to her father in his blue chair would seem a little more bearable. All she needed was some exercise, and more purpose, and Louisa would be fine.

The next day, Louisa woke early. The promised fuzzy heat of the day shimmered through her curtains and she wiped a faint line of perspiration from her forehead as she sat up in bed. After a few moments, she remembered that she was going out today and her heart fluttered.

‘Dad?’ Louisa said quietly as she descended the staircase that she still felt was rather too grand just for her and her father.

There was no reply, only the sickly scent of fried eggs lingering in the hall to confirm her father’s presence. She took her coat from the stand next to the front door, lifted it around her shoulders and crept into the piercing May morning.

Louisa meandered as much as she could, but it was her habit to walk quickly, to rush as though she was late. But she wasn’t late; she had nowhere to be. That was the problem, she thought as she chose a bunch of wilting roses from the meagre selection on offer at Pilkington’s. She stuffed the roses into her basket and continued along the street to Geoffrey and Sons, where she thought she might buy some sausages.

As Louisa stood and stared into the cabinet of pink flesh, she felt a tug on her arm.

‘Is that you? Louisa?’ Hatty Kennedy, one of Louisa’s old school friends, stood beside the counter, some pork chops cradled like a baby in the crook of her arm. She smiled as Louisa turned to face her. ‘I thought it was you! And to think I didn’t want to come to the butcher’s. Such a chore, isn’t it?’ Hatty rolled her eyes as she gestured towards her pork chops.

‘Yes, a chore,’ Louisa repeated, feeling herself turn pink with embarrassment at the thought of her excitement about her walk.

‘I normally try to get out of coming to the high street, don’t you?’

‘Oh, yes,’ nodded Louisa, feeling the rude tingle of the blush staining her cheeks.

But Hatty didn’t seem to notice Louisa’s pink cheeks. ‘I wouldn’t mind shopping so much if there were some interesting things to buy. If there were great big shops with dresses and handbags I’d come every day! But I don’t have too much longer to wait until I can buy more exciting things than meat. This time next week, I’ll be in Hill’s buying all the dresses I want.’

‘Hill’s? In Blackpool?’ Louisa asked, the stench of the raw meat suddenly making her feel quite sick.

‘Yes! I’m off to Blackpool! With my parents, worse luck. But they’ll leave me to it, I hope. It’ll be sunbathing, shopping and dancing. Hopefully I will meet some boys. There are none round here,’ Hatty said with a scowl. ‘None.’

There was a silence as Louisa scrambled for something to say. But the only thought in her mind, and the only word on her lips, was ‘Blackpool.’

‘Hey!’ Hatty suddenly exclaimed as the silence grew to an uncomfortable length. ‘You should come with us! Mum offered to take a friend of mine, but between you and me, I couldn’t really think of anybody. Everybody is either already going to Blackpool or staying here to do some silly shorthand course. But you’ll come, won’t you Lou? We haven’t spent any real time together since school! Think what fun we’ll have!’

Louisa thought of the week to come. Her stomach lurched, and the smell of meat and blood drifted down around her. ‘Yes. I’ll come to Blackpool.’

As Louisa said goodbye to Hatty and paid for her sausages, she remembered the last time she had planned to go to Blackpool. Since that day when Dr Barker had brought her here to live with her father, she hadn’t been back.

Louisa had planned to return to Blackpool on her fourteenth birthday. Three weeks before her birthday, she had written a list of things to take with her. Two weeks before, she had cracked open the piggy bank that her father had given her and transferred the coins to her new red velvet purse. One week before, Louisa had asked her teacher, Mr Marlowe, how she might best travel to Blackpool. She was going to take her father there as a surprise, she told Mr Marlowe, bits of the lie trickling down her throat like poison and settling heavily in her stomach as she spoke.

The night before her birthday, Louisa counted out her money. There was definitely enough to buy a train ticket for the 9.47 that Mr Marlowe had told her about: her father had been generous during the time that she had been there. When Louisa arrived in Blackpool, she would surely find somebody who remembered her from when she lived there with her mother. Perhaps they would help her to find out what had happened and piece together why her mother might have disappeared. Perhaps she would find out if she really had wandered into the sea, her skirt billowing out with the grey waves. Perhaps she would find out if there was anything her mother had wanted to tell Louisa, something that Louisa had missed.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, Louisa thought as she drifted into sleep.