Daria's Daughter Page 3

  The old lady chuckled. ‘Tell you what, Marmaduke can stay here with you and I’ll make us some lunch.’ Then she was gone, coughing all the way back down the stairs.

  Evie pushed the nasty scratchy blanket away from her arm. She hadn’t asked about Mummy, but she was sleepy again anyway. Mummy would be here next time she woke up. Yes. Evie put her hand on Marmaduke’s furry back, and closed her eyes.

  When she opened them again, the cat was gone and there was a plate beside the bed with a cheese sandwich on it. Evie sat up carefully. Her arm still hurt, but she wasn’t as woozy now when she moved her head. She got up slowly and wobbled over to the door. Everything was quiet, so she went into the bathroom. There was green all around the plug hole in the bath and up to the taps, but the basin was better.

  She was sitting on the loo when the old lady called. ‘All right, darlin’? I’ve got you another visitor!’

  Mummy! Evie almost fell as she pulled her knickers up – it was hard with one hand – and tried to run back to the bedroom. Her legs wouldn’t run, though, so she walked the last part and – oh, no. It wasn’t Mummy. The old lady was sitting on the bed again, but this time she had a black and white cat on her lap.

  Evie burst into tears. ‘I wanted Mummy to come!’

  ‘Tsk. Back to bed with you. You mustn’t get upset or you’ll make yourself ill again.’

  Evie clambered into bed and pressed her eyes shut tight to keep the tears in. This was all horrible. Why didn’t Mummy come?

  Something nudged her cheek, and Evie opened her eyes to see a black furry face right beside her own. She held up her good hand and stroked the cat’s back. He purred.

  The old lady stroked the cat too. ‘He’s come to make you better. Eat your sandwich and I’ll fetch you a drink. You can have some magic medicine, too.’

  Evie sniffed. ‘What’s magic medicine?’

  ‘It makes everything better while you’re asleep. You can have a wish, if you like.’ The old lady put the plate beside Evie and grabbed the cat, who looked like he wanted the sandwich too. ‘Socks! Leave that be!’

  Evie chewed and swallowed. ‘Why’s he called Socks?’

  The old lady held the cat up. ‘Look at his legs.’

  Evie stared, and – how funny! It really did look as if the cat was wearing white socks at the ends of his black legs. She managed a smile.

  The old lady patted her leg under the blanket. ‘That’s better. It’s a long time since we’ve seen a smile, isn’t it?’

  Was it? ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘It’s Mammy to you boys and girls, me dear. Look, here’s your new medicine. You can have some now and more before you go to sleep tonight. You’ll be much better in the morning.’

  She reached into a pocket in her cardigan and brought out a medicine bottle. Evie knew what it was because Mummy had the same pink medicine in the bathroom cupboard at home. Mammy poured out a spoonful and Evie swallowed it down. It was quite nice, but there was no sweetie afterwards like Mummy gave her. Why was Mammy looking after her, anyway?

  ‘Can I have a wish now?’

  ‘Yes, but you mustn’t tell or it won’t come true. Lie down and close your eyes.’

  Evie screwed her eyes up tight. Mammy was kind and the cats were nice, but it was Mummy she wanted. Mammy–Mummy… how funny. Pink medicine always made you sleepy. Evie lay still, wishing as hard as hard could be for Mummy to be here when she woke up again.

  Chapter 5

  Saturday morning, woo-hoo. Liane rolled out of bed and stepped across to the window to see what the weather was doing. Wall-to-wall sunshine – brilliant. She stretched luxuriously. Let the weekend begin, two whole days to work out what the heck she was supposed to do with her life. Not to mention Frith’s life. Oh, for some supportive family nearby, but she was an only child and her parents were long gone, and Tony’s folks lived in Kent. Liane tiptoed through to the kitchen, avoiding the squeaky floorboard halfway up the hallway. If she was lucky, she’d have half an hour to do her own thing before a tousle-headed monster arrived demanding Coco Pops.

  Her purse was still on the table, and she peered glumly at the lack of cash inside. No treats this week unless she used her card, and she’d done that too often recently. It wasn’t a good idea to use her dwindling savings on day-to-day stuff, either. Damn Tony and his selfishness. Waiting for her coffee to burble through the machine, Liane drummed her fingers on the work surface. Okay, there was nothing she could do to change the father of her child, but she could – hopefully – change her job into something that met Frith’s needs better. Situations Vacant, here she came.

  Twenty minutes later, she was on to the second coffee and still wading through a selection of unsuitable jobs when a thump from Frith’s room coincided with Liane’s mobile blaring out from her bedroom. She leaped up to silence it.

  ‘You monkey, you’ve been at my phone again, haven’t you?’ Liane shook a fist in pretend rage at the child giggling in the doorway. Frith liked nothing more than to attack defenceless mobiles and turn the volume all the way up. It wouldn’t be long before she was changing the ringtone, too; kids seem to soak up stuff like that. Liane flipped the phone open – bummer, it was Paula calling. This was either a complaint about yesterday’s unwashed coffee mugs or—

  ‘Liane, I’m sorry but I need you here. Marie has to go and help her mother.’

  Liane’s head reeled. Marie was the weekend sales assistant and this was the third time the wretched woman had cried off work on Liane’s free day.

  ‘I don’t have anyone to take Frith, Paula.’

  Paula’s sigh nearly blew Liane’s ear off. ‘Bring her with you, then. And be quick – I have four customers here.’ The line went dead.

  Liane’s fingers were squeezing her phone so tightly the case popped off. She clicked it back on, trying to stop steam from coming out of her ears. Who did Paula think she was, ordering her about like that?

  Frith’s eyes were wide. ‘Mummy? You look scary.’

  Wait until you see me in action with Paula, kid. Liane blew a kiss at the child.

  ‘No need for you to be scared, love bug, but Auntie Paula’s going to run a mile when she sees me. Come and have breakfast. We’re going to work.’ Liane smiled grimly. Paula had made the decision easy for her. She was going to work – to hand in her resignation.

  She didn’t rush Frith, so it was almost an hour later when they arrived at the shop, where Paula was serving the woman who’d been in yesterday evening while another customer was walking around with an armful of clothes and a miffed expression.

  Paula gave her a look that could have killed her on the spot.

  ‘At last! Liane will be with you straightaway, Mrs Cromarty. Thank you for being so patient. Tout de suite, chérie.’

  Liane glowered right back. Oh, she wouldn’t make a scene in front of the customers, but no way was she going to leave Frith standing in order to serve Mrs Too Much Money over there. Taking as long as possible, she steered her daughter through to the back of the shop and helped her out of her jacket, grinning wryly. She’d always had the suspicion she’d only been taken on because she could speak French, which allowed Paula to display a posh little sign on the counter: Ici on parle Français. A French grandmother had its advantages – or not, depending on how you thought about it.

  By the time Mrs Cromarty left the shop, Paula was head first into her wretched laptop and smirking, and Frith was making an excellent job of colouring in Peppa Pig at the fairground. Liane grasped her courage in both hands. Do it, Liane. Things couldn’t be worse than they were now. Different bad, okay, but not worse. She would apply for some of the least unsuitable jobs and cross her fingers hard. Her savings would see them through another month or two.

  ‘Paula, I’m handing in my notice. And I’d like to leave immediately, in lieu of this month’s pay.’ Liane stood directly in front of Paula, arms folded, ready to fight it out.

  Her boss’s eyebrows jerked up. ‘I’m not sure about the legality o
f that, Liane, but you can go. Marie’s spending the weekend settling her mother into a care home, and then she wants to increase her hours to as many as I can give her, to help cover the costs.’

  Liane smiled sweetly. ‘In that case I’ll just leave quietly, shall I? Come on, toots.’

  ‘No, you—’

  Leaving Paula wide-eyed and waving her arms, Liane bundled Frith back into her jacket as they ran down the road, Liane laughing because she’d done such a reckless, ridiculous thing and the look on Paula’s face back there was to die for – and Frith laughing in sympathy.

  ‘Are we going home already?’

  ‘We are. And guess what – Mummy will never, ever be late picking you up from Mrs P’s again.’

  ‘Never ever ever?’

  ‘Never ever ever and a day.’

  Frith beamed, and Liane’s heart melted. All she had to do now was find a new job that would fit in with the childminder’s hours, and persuade Mrs P to keep Frith on. Not so easy but, hey, she was Supermum today, wasn’t she?

  Back home, she settled Frith down for her Saturday cartoons on TV and went back to the job search. You never knew, something magnificent might have come in while she’d been at the shop; Saturday was supposed to be the best day for job ads. She should buy a local paper, too, there might be different stuff there. And – great idea – she would put up some Job Wanted cards in the newsagent’s. She was about to click out of the website when a colourful ad swam into sight, and she clicked to enlarge it. O–kay. They were looking for an assistant playgroup supervisor at the children’s hospital. The job was mainly admin, with the odd shift in the creche – creche work wasn’t something she’d have searched for, but how hard could it be? The playgroup was part of childcare arrangements for the hospital staff, apparently. The pay was less than she’d earned at Paula’s, but heck, it was the perfect solution – Frithy could come to work with her. Liane clicked through to the website and started to fill out the application form. Qualifications? Well, she didn’t have any in childcare, but she had more than the administration credentials required, and thanks to Frith’s numerous clinic visits and the friendships they had with staff there, she’d be able to produce a pretty impressive list of referees. Steve, the charge nurse at Accident and Emergency might help, and so might Janine on reception at the cardiac clinic. Would it be presumptuous to ask Mr Wilson, Frith’s surgeon? But why not? Nothing ventured… She had all their phone numbers, too, but possibly midday on a Saturday wasn’t the best time to call. Liane saved her application form and danced through to the living room.

  ‘Lunchtime, honey pie – and fingers crossed, Mummy might have found the perfect new job!’ She whirled Frith into her arms and waltzed back to the kitchen. Frith’s heart clinic appointment card, stuck on the magnet board on the wall, came into sharp focus as they danced around the table, and Liane started planning. She would suss out the playgroup on Monday, after they’d seen the doctor. Sometimes things did happen for the best.

  Frith shrieked in her arms. ‘Mummy! You’re silly!’

  ‘We’re allowed to be silly on Saturdays, didn’t you know?’ Liane sat the child on the work surface and opened the packet of bacon. Sometimes it was best to live in the optimism of the moment, and this job application had at least a fair shot at being successful. She’d have Paula to thank if it was. How ironic was that?

  Chapter 6

  Someone was touching her. Daria forced her eyes open and blinked at the nurse fiddling with the drip going into her left arm. Nurse. A hospital? What…? Dark memories flooded back. Oh, God, the accident. Evie? Daria struggled to sit up, then sank back on the pillow as the nurse’s hand on her shoulder restrained her and a shaft of pain flared down her left leg.

  The nurse gave her a brief smile. ‘That’s right, lie still. Do you know where you are?’

  ‘Hospital.’ Speaking was hard; her throat hurt. ‘Where’s my little girl?’

  ‘You were in an accident yesterday – you have a broken leg and a lot of scrapes and bruises. They operated on your leg last night and pinned it, but it wasn’t a serious break. You’ll be up on crutches in a day or two.’

  Last night? Daria’s heart thudded. What time was it? ‘My daughter?’

  ‘This is the adult hospital, but your husband’s here. He’s talking to the doctor – I’ll let them know you’re awake.’ The nurse hurried from the room.

  Daria tried again to sit up, but she was aching all over. She was in a single room, and – ‘the adult hospital’? She’d never been here, but this would be the new South Side hospital. The new children’s hospital was right next door – Evie must be there, surely? Or had she gone home already? Why hadn’t the nurse said? Fear snaked into Daria’s gut. The crash – headlights coming towards them, then, yes, she’d landed on the ground, hadn’t she, and Evie was crying somewhere. A faint sense of relief replaced the fear. A crying child probably wasn’t too horribly injured. Oh, please, let Evie be all right.

  The nurse came back in with a full jug and a glass. ‘Your husband will be here in a minute. Try a few sips of water.’

  Daria sipped, then lay back. This nurse might not know about Evie, but Noah would. She lay still, taking stock of her injuries. She ached all over and her head was groggy. A drip was feeding into one arm and she had a dressing on her head; her left leg was in a splint from the knee down; she couldn’t move her ankle and it hurt to try. When would they let her go to Evie?

  The nurse left her again, and Daria closed her eyes. She had no memory of being brought here; she’d lost hours. Who had been there for Evie in those hours? Noah’d had to come from Stirling – had somebody contacted his parents to come and mind Evie?

  The door opened and Daria stared as Noah came in. He was unshaven, and dark smudges surrounded his eyes. Had he been up all night? Oh, God – what had happened to Evie?

  He pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down, grabbing her hand and holding on speechlessly, his eyes never leaving hers.

  Dread slammed into Daria. ‘What is it? Tell me.’

  He gripped her hand even more tightly, two tears coursing down his face, followed by more.

  Heat flushed through Daria. ‘No. No, no.’

  ‘She didn’t make it, love.’ Sobs shook his body, and he laid his head on their clasped hands, a deep, growling moan from his throat filling the room with a sound she’d never heard before. No.

  Daria jerked her hand away, clawing at the bedcovers – she had to go to Evie, she had to—

  The drip tore from her arm, and Noah yelled for help. The nurse was back in seconds, followed by a doctor in green scrubs.

  The nurse held her down on the bed. ‘Daria, breathe! We’ve got you. I’m so sorry, Daria.’

  The doctor was fixing the drip back into her arm. ‘Steady. We’ll tell you everything, but first lie still.’

  She couldn’t fight them. Nausea rose in her throat, and Daria gestured wildly. The nurse held a basin under her chin while she was sick, then wiped her face and held the water glass to her lips. Daria sipped because it was the easiest thing to do. She clutched her chest, gasping for air. Her heart was hammering away in there but Evie… Evie’s heart would never beat again. That couldn’t, it mustn’t, be true.

  Noah was crying quietly and now she knew why he looked like that. He’d been crying all night. And she would be crying for the rest of her life.

  Another nurse arrived with tea, then a different, older doctor in a suit came in and pulled up a chair, sitting on the opposite side of the bed from Noah.

  He leaned forward. ‘This is dreadful for you both. All I can say is, it would have been over in a second for Evie. She didn’t suffer.’

  Daria couldn’t look at him – or Noah. Didn’t suffer? She’d heard Evie crying. Or – maybe it wasn’t Evie she’d heard? ‘Over in a second’ meant Evie had died instantly and a doctor would know, wouldn’t he? Bleak reality sent a wave of blackness over Daria, pinning her to the bed. She would never hear her child cry again.

/>   A shriek rang around the room, her shriek, as all the pain in the world crashed down, encapsulating her in a cocoon of grief and horror. Daria fought the restraining hands, Noah’s sobs joining her cries and bouncing off the walls. Someone was working on her drip. No, please, she wanted to…

  But blackness claimed her.

  Day Three – Sunday 19th April

  Chapter 7

  The squeak of the cupboard door was enough to bring the whole family running in the morning. Margie reached for the box of cat food, Marmaduke and Demelza snaking around her ankles and miaowing, long tails waving in the air. Usually it was Tabitha who’d get here first, but she wasn’t so quick on her feet now, poor love. It would be better when the kits arrived. Margie shook dried food into two of the bowls strewn around the kitchen floor, then refilled another two with water, wincing as a pain zipped into her head and out again when she bent down. She was fine and she was happy, not like Socks and Topsy there, spitting at each other over their breakfast. Bless their hearts, you’d think they went short of food. Not in this house. Which reminded her, human food should be on the menu too. Tea and toast for her, milk and toast for Bridie. Poor maid had still been asleep when Margie put her head around the door on the way downstairs, but she’d wake up soon. Bridie was never one for lying in bed all day, not like Aiden.

  Happy children’s voices rang in Margie’s head, little ghost children, and she smiled, slotting two slices of bread into the toaster. The family all loved toast and honey. She gazed back inwardly over years of toast and honey – and sometimes toast without honey, too, it hadn’t always been easy. Such times they’d had, especially when they were still at Bantry Bay.

  A thud from above brought Margie back to here and now. A glass for Bridie’s milk, that was what she needed, yes, here it was. She lifted the milk carton and poured, trying to ignore the shivery feeling she’d had all night. That soaking hadn’t done her any good. Now to see to her maid.