Jess waved at the small car receding down the driveway and let herself into the house. Her house. Chalton Manor. She still couldn’t quite come to terms with it. In her mind it would always be Peter’s house and it seemed ridiculous for her to live here alone with three young children. They’d be much better off in something more modest. She would talk to Michael about it, but there was no rush; there were other priorities. She stepped into the hallway and was met by Emma who came striding out of the kitchen, looking flustered.
“Jess. Thank goodness you’re back! I’m at my wits end!”
“Why. What’s happened?” said Jess in alarm, regretting she had left them alone.
“Oh. Nothing’s happened,” said Emma and Jess relaxed. “I’m just worn out. How on earth do you manage it? I mean where do you get the energy from? They’ve had me playing all sorts of silly games. The kitchen and drawing room are strewn with debris, toys everywhere. Goodness me, I need a stiff drink!” They were interrupted by a familiar squealing as the twins, followed by Leila, met them in the hallway.
“Mummy! Mummy!” shrieked Sophie and Lucy in unison as they jumped up and down, tugging Jess’s skirt. Jess put a hand on each head and rubbed their hair.
“Have you been good for Auntie Emma?” she asked and they nodded excitedly as Leila strolled in behind them. “Hello, darling. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you all,” she said, giving them each a hug in turn. Leila remained quiet but smiled and held out her hand. Jess took it and Leila led her into the kitchen, followed by Emma and the twins.
The kitchen table was covered in newspaper and littered with green stalks, leaves and petals, and on it stood a small vase filled with flowers from the garden.
“We’ve been flower arranging,” said Emma with some satisfaction. “I am afraid we raided some of Peter’s …” She paused for moment to reflect. “I mean, your flower beds. I’m sorry, I keep forgetting.”
“It’s okay,” said Jess with a sad smile. She kept forgetting too.
“Leila seems to have some expertise in this field. She did that mostly herself.”
“That’s beautiful, sweetheart.”
“Flowers … for … you … Mummy.” Leila said it slowly and deliberately. Jess put a hand on her head, pulled her closer and hugged her again.
“Well, I must be off,” announced Emma with a flourish.
“Thank you so much for looking after them.”
“Anytime,” said Emma, and Jess gave her a knowing smile. Emma glided out of the kitchen and let herself out.
“Come on! Let’s tidy up and have some lunch.”
By 7 p.m. the twins were fast asleep in bed. Leila had quickly assumed primary responsibility for bath times and although Jess never left them unattended, she allowed Leila to take control and do most of it herself. To her great relief, Sophie and Lucy seemed totally at ease with their new sister and Leila in return was undemanding and, as far as Jess could tell, assimilating well to her new environment. One day, there would be stories to tell.
The grandfather clock in the hallway struck 8.00 p.m. as Jess and Leila snuggled up on the drawing room sofa, reading a picture book.
“Okay, young lady. I think it’s your bedtime.” She closed the book and kissed her daughter’s head. “We’re going to have to get you sorted out at school soon. Would you like that?” Leila nodded. Jess was acutely aware that Leila’s English was still rudimentary. No doubt the Kayani woman had spoken English to her in the early days, but if she had been left in the company of disinterested servants and other kids, then Urdu would have been their main language. She hoped that, like most young children, Leila would quickly adapt, that her current reticence in speaking simply reflected unfamiliarity with the words and was not symptomatic of any underlying disorder or latent trauma. It would take time, but they had lots of that.
She took Leila upstairs and together they checked on the twins. She let Leila run a bath and get ready for bed by herself and then lay on the bed next to her, as usual, until she was sure she was asleep. She checked the baby alarm and went back downstairs.
She sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea, the house virtually silent but for the hum of the central heating boiler and the occasional rustle of the trees outside the kitchen window. The house was cavernous, its size now strangely oppressive, and without the towering presence of Peter, she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable again.
Michael and Emma had insisted they would help in any way they could, and she believed them and was grateful. But she was also realistic enough to know that, over time, contact would dwindle, and she had to learn to look after her family by herself. Michael and Emma had their own lives to lead, and although Emma had clearly expressed sadness that they’d never had a family, she’d moved on many years ago. It seemed unlikely to Jess that she’d want to engage with someone else’s on a regular basis. Jess smiled to herself recalling Emma’s relief at her return that afternoon. The last thing Emma wanted was to be first on call for childcare, whatever she may have said.
She thought again about her conversation with Michael and Leila’s incredible journey from the moment she’d been taken from pre-school in Wellingford, shipped halfway around the world and back again. Five years had passed. She felt a wave of anger rising inside her and tried to suppress it. She’d never forgotten Leila in the years she’d been gone, but had never imagined she would ever see her again.
She wondered what had happened to Mo, how she could have been so stupid to fall under his spell and how she failed to foresee the disaster that would unfold. She put it out of her mind. She had to live in the present. She would talk to Michael about selling Chalton and finding somewhere smaller and more manageable. She yawned and rested her forehead on her arms, and soon, she drifted off.
***
She’s in her tent, on the mattress, on the ground, listening to the dogs barking in the night and the rustle of the trees and she’s cold and hungry and tearful and wondering when this will ever end and then it’s raining and the tent has a leak and it’s dripping on her sleeping bag so she tries to move over to avoid it but the water is rising and she has to get out and she wrestles herself out of the sleeping bag and fumbles with the circular zip of the tent flap and when it releases she looks outside but she’s floating on water, bobbing up and down and moving faster and faster and there’s a rush of water into the tent and the sound of it is getting louder and louder and it’s the sound of the weir and she tries to get out and then she can hear screaming, “Mummy, Mummy!” and it keeps coming, “Mummy, Mummy!” and she’s flailing around in the water trying to stay afloat and there’s a thunderclap and a flash and she feels herself sinking and someone’s still screaming. “Mummy, Mummy!”
***
“Mummy, Mummy!” The screaming of the baby alarm woke her. She pushed back violently on her chair, knocking it to the floor, and raced out of the kitchen, down the hall and bounded up the spiral staircase, two at a time. She swung around the banister on the first floor and dashed down the corridor, the screams getting louder and the thunderous crashes more frequent.
She burst into the bedroom, almost tripping over one of the bedside tables which lay upended on the floor, the table lamp alongside it, extinguished. She flicked the main light switch and saw the twins standing up on their beds, jumping up and down as if on trampolines, screaming and crying in panic. She saw books lying all over the floor along with ornaments from the mantelpiece, and as she noticed Leila was missing from the bed, sounds of crashing came from the bathroom. She leapt over the debris and into the en suite. She pulled the light cord.
Leila was standing in the bath, bottle of shampoo in hand, ready to throw it onto the floor where several other bottles, soap bars, toothpaste and make-up containers lay strewn, covered in a thick layer of talc.
“Leila!” she cried, dodging a flying shampoo bottle which hit the wall mirror with a loud crack and fell into the washbasin below. She raced forward and plucked her demented daughter out of the bath. Her face and hair were covered in a cocktail of talcum powder and shampoo, her eyes streaming with tears that left vertical streaks down each cheek and her hands and arms flailed at Jess’s back as if trying to beat her off. “Leila! Leila! Ssh! It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here. Mummy’s here!” she hugged her and swayed from side to side and after a second or two, Leila’s struggling subsided and she went limp in her arms.
Jess carried her back into the bedroom where the twins were still crying although now sitting down on their beds, rubbing their eyes. She laid Leila down on her bed and brushed her sticky, powdery hair back off her face, then rushed over to the little ones and hugged them both together.
“Sophie, Lucy, it’s okay, Leila’s just had a bad dream. She’s okay now. Come on, lie down and go to sleep,” she said gently, but she knew it would take time for the twins to settle down again. She looked around. The room looked a mess, especially in the bright light, so she switched on the other bedside lamp and turned off the main light. She restored the upturned bedside table and lamp to their rightful positions and then returned to attend to the twins whose tears had now subsided to a snuffling murmur. She laid them down and covered them with a blanket, and they remained quiet as she climbed back onto the bed next to Leila.
Her daughter was lying still, on her side, eyes wide open, breathing deeply through her mouth, her cheeks still streaked with shampoo, talc and make-up. Jess went back into the en suite, found a flannel and ran it under the warm tap, being careful not to contaminate it with the glass fragments in the basin. She sat on the bed and dabbed her daughter’s face gently to remove the mess, talking to her, consoling her, and when she had done the best she could, snuggled up next to her and held her closely. Within a minute or two, Leila’s breathing settled down and she drifted off to sleep.
Jess lay there with her, with all her children, heart still beating irregularly from the exertion and the fright and the panic, and there she stayed till morning.