Read Swimming Pool Sunday Online

Authors: Madeleine Wickham,Sophie Kinsella

Tags: #Contemporary Women

Swimming Pool Sunday (23 page)

BOOK: Swimming Pool Sunday
11.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Amelia stared resentfully at her mother, then stamped back up the stairs to get her school hat. She hated her mother, and she hated Katie, and she hated everybody. Today was the last day of term, and everybody was taking a present to school for their form teacher. But although she’d kept promising they would go and find something nice at the shops, Louise had forgotten, until Amelia reminded her last night, when it was too late.

‘We’ll buy something on the way to school,’ she’d said hastily. ‘Something nice.’ But the only shop on the way to school was the garage, and Amelia knew they wouldn’t find anything nice there, only jars of coffee and pints of milk and Mars bars.

And it was all because her mother spent the whole time at Forest Lodge. Amelia
hated
Forest Lodge. It was really creepy and it smelt horrible, and all the people in it were weird. Some of them couldn’t speak properly and some of them had strange jerky arms, and last time she went there for lunch she’d sat opposite a boy who
was much older than her, but dribbled his food. It was
disgusting
. And then he’d smiled at her and tried to take hold of her hand. She’d stared at him in panic, feeling her face turn red and her heart thumping, until a nurse noticed what was happening and hurried over, and said, ‘Martin, leave Amelia alone.’ And then she’d turned to Amelia and smiled, and said, ‘Don’t worry! He won’t bite!’ And Amelia had smiled back, but inside she felt all shaky and frightened.

She didn’t see why Katie had to stay there. Katie wasn’t a bit like those people. She could walk and talk properly now, and sort of read, and last time Amelia had visited, they’d even played French skipping. Katie had forgotten all about French skipping after the accident, but Amelia had taught her how to do it again, and she’d been quite good – at least, at the very easy jumps.

Everyone kept going on about how well Katie was doing, so much better than they’d expected, and Amelia always said, ‘Well, why doesn’t she come home, then?’ And her mother would say, ‘She will, darling, very soon.’ But she never did, so they kept having to go to horrible revolting Forest Lodge.

Amelia picked up her satchel and put on her hat, and scowled at herself in the mirror. Nothing was fun any more. She didn’t have anyone to play with, and they weren’t going on holiday, and everyone seemed cross all the time.

By the end of the morning, however, Amelia’s spirits had risen. After they’d had a story, and before they went down for final prayers, Mrs Jacob had taken the star chart off the wall to announce the winner. And it was Amelia!

She was so surprised she just sat still, while Clara, who sat next to her, tugged at her school dress and hissed, ‘Go up! Go up and get your prize!’

Mrs Jacob smiled at Amelia and said, ‘I’ve been
awarding stars for good behaviour, as well as the stars I’ve put in your exercise books, and Amelia has done very well this term! Well done!’ And Amelia struggled to her feet and Mrs Jacob gave her a huge tube of Smarties, and everybody clapped.

Then everyone crowded round Amelia’s desk for a Smartie, and Amelia handed them out, keeping back the orange ones for herself. And Anna Russet, whom she didn’t know very well, said shyly, ‘I think you deserved to win the star chart, Amelia.’ And Clara, sitting next to her, said at once, ‘Yes, so do I. I think you
deserved
to win it.’

Amelia had glowed, pink with pleasure, as she doled out Smarties into thrusting hands, and thought how impressed Katie and Mummy would be when she told them. Then they’d gone down to the hall for final prayers, and Amelia’s name was read out, along with all the other star-chart winners, and all the teachers smiled at her. Then they sang Amelia’s favourite hymn, and did three cheers for the teachers, and then it really was the end of term.

All the parents were waiting outside, mostly mothers, but a few fathers too, and the playground was filled with children, carrying satchels and pencil-cases and rolled-up paintings and recorders and shoe bags. Amelia looked for Louise in the throng, but she couldn’t see her anywhere, so she sat down comfortably on the low wall at the front of the playground and waited for her to arrive.

Half an hour later she still hadn’t come. The playground was now nearly empty, with just a few parents and children and a couple of teachers, and a book dropped face-down on the ground. Amelia sidled over and picked up the book. It was a very junior reading book that she remembered from Form Two, and she began to leaf through it, recalling the bright pictures and the story, and all the big words that she’d
found so difficult then, but now seemed really easy.

‘Amelia!’ Amelia looked up, startled. Mrs Jacob was in front of her.

‘Hasn’t Mummy come yet?’

‘No,’ admitted Amelia. ‘She’s often late,’ she added quickly.

‘I know,’ said Mrs Jacob, ‘but not normally this late.’ She looked hard at Amelia. ‘She does know it’s a half day today?’ Amelia thought.

‘Well, she knows it’s the end of term,’ she said eventually. ‘She must know it’s a half day.’

‘Did you tell her?’ persisted Mrs Jacob.

‘No,’ said Amelia in surprise, ‘but she must know! It’s always a half day on the last day of term.’

Mrs Jacob sighed.

‘Perhaps’, she said, ‘she’s forgotten. Just this once.’

Amelia stared at Mrs Jacob and felt a sudden angry hurt. Mrs Jacob must be right, her mother had forgotten to come and pick her up. She’d
forgotten
about her. No-one else’s mother forgot about them.

A voice interrupted them both. It was Mrs Russet, Anna’s mother, coming over from the other side of the playground.

‘Is there a problem?’ she said. She addressed Amelia in a sugary voice. ‘Has Mummy forgotten all about you?’ Amelia shrugged and went pink. Mrs Russet came closer. She was a very large lady, with curly hair; Amelia had sometimes seen her in church, doing readings in a loud voice with lots of flapping arms.

‘I’ll go and phone her,’ said Mrs Jacob. She looked at Amelia and smiled reassuringly. ‘Will she be at home, do you think?’

‘She’s probably at Forest Lodge,’ said Amelia. ‘She’s always at Forest Lodge,’ she added, gloomily, as Mrs Jacob hurried off.

‘Is she?’ Mrs Russet’s eyes bored beadily into Amelia’s face. ‘Does she leave you all alone?’

‘Well,’ began Amelia, meaning to explain how Mary always came and looked after her. But a sudden resentment at her mother took over.

‘Yes, she does,’ she said sorrowfully. ‘She leaves me all alone. All she cares about is Katie.’

Mrs Russet’s mouth tightened and she folded her arms.

‘Well, Amelia,’ she said. ‘What about coming home with us? If Mummy’s too busy to remember about you?’

‘Yes, go on,’ said Anna. ‘You can see my guinea-pig.’

‘And then we can have some nice lunch,’ said Mrs Russet cosily, ‘and you can tell me
all
about it.’

Louise had spent much of the day in Linningford, trying to catch up with the minutiae of daily life. Since the accident, she realized, she hadn’t paid a single household bill. Food shopping had been reduced to buying a few tins whenever she had a spare moment; most basic household items had run out or broken and not been replaced. And tomorrow was the start of Amelia’s school holidays. She wanted the house to be in some kind of order before then. So the night before, she had sat down with a pencil and begun a list, starting modestly with light-bulbs; pay gas bill; first-class stamps. By the time the catalogue was finished, it was running onto a fourth sheet, and she was staring at it in amazed despair. But she had decided that, if it were at all possible, she would get everything done before she picked up Amelia from school.

Somewhere in her mind she had once been aware that on the last day of term, school finished at lunchtime. But this fact was submerged as she battled with a pair of heavy carrier bags through the morning throng, and found herself thinking, I’m never going to get everything done by three-thirty. As the day progressed she began to move more quickly; imbuing each transaction with a sense of urgency; pitting herself against crowds
of people, overheated lifts and surly shop assistants. She abandoned all thought of taking the toaster for repair, in favour of finding a special present for Amelia. She decided, hastily crossing it off the list, that plant food could wait for another day – but they really did need new tooth-brushes.

She arrived at the school on the dot of quarter to four, with a red face and a full car and a colouring book for Amelia waiting on the front seat. And then, as she opened the door and got out to an uncharacteristic silence, the truth hit her, and she leaned weakly against the car, her heart thudding and a light-headed amazement pervading her body. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have forgotten that school finished at lunchtime today?

For a moment or two she couldn’t move, so astonished was she at her lapse of memory. It almost seemed a feat of achievement to have forgotten something so important. Then, as her astonishment began to abate, she felt a sudden guilty pang, all the stronger for being delayed. Where was Amelia? What had happened to her, if nobody had arrived to collect her?

Stupidly, Louise began to run towards the playground. Of course she wouldn’t be there. The teachers wouldn’t have left her. Louise imagined kind steady Mrs Jacob, Amelia’s teacher, and her heart began to quail. What on earth would Mrs Jacob think of her? And all the other teachers? Would they put a black mark against her name?

And where, thought Louise again, arriving in the deserted playground, looking hopelessly around; where the hell was Amelia?

‘If we win in the court,’ said Amelia, sitting back comfortably on Mrs Russet’s cushioned garden swing and accepting another chocolate biscuit, ‘we’re going to get half a million pounds.’ She looked at Mrs Russet for
a reaction and bit into the biscuit. Mrs Russet gave a satisfactory gasp.

‘Half a million pounds,’ repeated Amelia. ‘We’ll be half-millionaires.’

Anna, crouched down in front of the guinea-pig pen on the other side of the garden, called, ‘Come
on
, Amelia. Come and see Nutmeg.’

But Amelia ignored her and looked at Mrs Russet. Mrs Russet was being very kind to her, Amelia thought. She’d given her a lovely lunch, full of treats, and now it was teatime already, and more treats. And all Amelia had to do was keep talking about the accident. Mrs Russet seemed very interested in it.

Now she looked at Amelia with huge brown eyes, and said, ‘That seems an awful lot of money for a little girl like you to be talking about.’

‘I know,’ said Amelia simply.

‘Did Mummy tell you about it?’ Amelia flushed slightly.

‘No,’ she said, ‘I just sort of heard it. Mummy and Cassian were talking about it one time.’ She bit into her biscuit again. It was delicious, all chocolatey and filled with sweetened cream. The sort of biscuit they never had at home.

‘The accident was all Mr and Mrs Delaney’s fault,’ Amelia added, with her mouth full. ‘Cassian told me.’ She licked her chocolatey fingers and looked at Mrs Russet. ‘I’m not allowed to speak to Mrs Delaney any more,’ she continued indistinctly, ‘even though she gave me a Barbie doll. I like Mrs Delaney,’ she added, ‘but Cassian says she’s neg-lent.’ She said the word cautiously and looked up for approval, but Mrs Russet was gazing at her silently, waiting for her to continue. Amelia gave an inward sigh. She was running out of things to say.

‘I hate the boring old court case,’ she said eventually. ‘That’s all they talk about: Katie and the court case.’ She
eyed Mrs Russet surreptitiously and added pitifully, ‘No-one cares abut me any more.’

She was hoping that Mrs Russet would offer her another biscuit, but instead Mrs Russet grabbed her hand.

‘I’ve never heard anything so terrible,’ she said. ‘That you should feel so abandoned!’ She looked at Amelia and blinked a few times. ‘Does Mummy know you feel like this?’

‘Well,’ began Amelia, ‘not …’

‘Doesn’t have time to listen, I expect,’ said Mrs Russet, nodding vigorously. ‘Or doesn’t want to listen. Too busy with her million-pound court case to bother about her children. It’s immoral, that’s what it is. She wasn’t even at Forest Lodge today. Who
knows
what she’s been doing …’ She broke off and leaned closer to Amelia.

‘That Cassian,’ she said. ‘Does he … visit the house very much?’ Amelia took another biscuit without asking and tried to think. What counted as very much?

‘Well … quite a lot,’ she said at last. Mrs Russet nodded vigorously again. The collection of bead necklaces strung about her neck jangled, and a red glow began to spread over her face.

‘And what about poor Daddy?’ she said. Amelia stared back at Mrs Russet. How did Mrs Russet know so much about them?

‘We see him every weekend,’ she said, her voice starting to tremble.

‘And is he in favour of this court case?’ said Mrs Russet in a suddenly fierce voice. ‘Or does he think, as I do, that God moves in mysterious ways?’ She looked at Amelia sternly. ‘Everything happens for a reason,’ she said, ‘and every sinner receives his punishment.’ She brought her face suddenly close to Amelia’s. ‘Would your sister’s accident have happened if your mother hadn’t been so distracted, thinking about her lover? Would it have happened if she’d been a decent
responsible mother?’ She spat the words out and Amelia shrank back in her seat. She didn’t know what to say.

‘Look,’ called Anna, from the other side of the garden. ‘Amelia’s mummy’s car is here.’

Amelia had never seen her mother so angry. She barely waited until they’d got into the car before she screamed, in a voice which made Amelia give a terrified jump, ‘What did you say to that woman?’

Amelia stared back at her mother with a white face.

‘Nothing,’ she said in a shaking voice. ‘Nothing really. Just things she asked me.’

‘And what did she ask you?’ said Louise bitterly. ‘I know,’ she added, before Amelia could reply. ‘Is your mother a good Christian or an irresponsible harlot who brought this accident on herself?’

Amelia peered at Louise in terror.

‘I don’t know,’ she muttered.

‘She said she’s going to testify against us!’ shouted Louise. ‘She’s going to offer herself as a character witness, and give evidence in court that I don’t look after my children properly!’ Louise turned briefly towards Amelia.

BOOK: Swimming Pool Sunday
11.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Beyond Repair by Kelly Lincoln
The Boleyns by David Loades
Bastard out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison
Binds by Rebecca Espinoza