No Place to Hide (23 page)

Justine couldn’t deny it. She felt it every day.

She was still staring at the package, thinking of the secret her mother and grandmother shared and wondering if it should stay that way, a secret. She of all people knew that some things should never be told.

At last she looked up and tried to imagine how appalled Sallie Jo was going to be by the truth. She noticed the fragile lines around her eyes that made her seem vulnerable, in spite of the quiet strength she exhibited every day. Justine didn’t want to hurt her, or burden her with a secret too heavy, too awful to hold, and yet maybe it would be better if Sallie Jo heard the truth from her rather than from anyone else.

The question was how, where to begin? With Matt, with Abby, with Ben?

In the end she took a low, delicate breath, and heard herself saying, “I used to live in a place called Chippingly. My best friend, Cheryl, and I had a deli there…”

Chippingly Vale, UK

It was a Wednesday afternoon at the beginning of November when Justine’s water broke, announcing the imminent arrival of Tallulah Catherine May.

“Ugh! Gross!” Abby squeaked, quickly stepping away from the gush.

They were in the deli, with Cheryl and a handful of regulars.

“I’m not due for another week,” Justine complained as Cheryl rushed to her side, abandoning a woman with a slice of cherry tart and no cup of tea. “Matt’s in London.”

“He’ll be here in time,” Cheryl assured her. “Abby, do something useful like call an ambulance.”

“Already done,” Janet Beasley informed them, bustling over in her matronly way. She used to run a care home near Colchester before retiring to the West Country, which didn’t exactly qualify her to deliver a baby if the need arose, but she was always a comforting presence.

“I’m fine, honestly,” Justine assured her. “I don’t think…” She gasped as a sharp pain shot through her.

“Just take a seat,” Mrs. Beasley instructed. “No need to get into a fuss about anything.”

“Should I shut the shop?” Cheryl wondered aloud.

“Who are you calling?” Justine asked Abby.

Eyes bright with excitement, Abby cried, “Dad. Who else? Oh God, it’s his voicemail, what shall I say? I know—Dad, it’s me, not sure I can cope without you, but going to try. She’s all right for the moment, but think you should get here. Oh my God, it’s totally amazing! I can’t believe it’s happening at last. I’m totally buzzing. Love you…Oh yes, baby’s on its way.”

Laughing as Abby treated her to a goggle-eyed look, Justine loved her for the support she’d given over the last few months, and held her bump as she said, “Does this mean you’ll come to the hospital with me?”

“Are you kidding?” Abby retorted, apparently shocked her mother might think she wouldn’t. “I’m not letting you go on your own, but no way am I watching, right? I mean, there are some parts of my education that can definitely wait.” She looked at Cheryl. “Chantal ought to be here,” she decided, opening up her phone again. “She’s the one who wants to be a doctor.”

“I don’t think there’s much she can do for the moment,” Janet Beasley pointed out kindly. “Are you OK, dear?” she asked as Justine winced. “Bit further along than we thought, mm?”

“Oh no, please no, not in the middle of the deli,” Abby protested. “Anyone could walk in…”

“Shut up.” Justine laughed, knowing she was teasing.

“Someone should put up the Closed sign,” Abby declared.

“I think I should drive you,” Cheryl insisted, going to lock the till.

“I can run things here,” Abby offered.

“I thought you were coming with me,” Justine reminded her.

“Oh yes. Definitely coming with you.” Throwing her arms around her mother, she said, “This is like totally the most amazing thing ever. I might actually be the first one to see her.”

“I thought you weren’t going to watch.”

“No, deffo not doing that. Why hasn’t Dad rung back yet?”

“He’s in a meeting.” Justine’s eyes closed as a vicious spasm clenched her in its claws.

“I’m taking you,” Cheryl decided, and while Abby and Janet Beasley helped Justine out to the car she quickly ushered the onlookers out of the deli, set the alarm, and locked up.

By seven that evening Abby was holding Tallulah in her arms, totally entranced with the magical little alien that almost looked human, while Justine rested her head on Matt’s shoulder and wondered when she’d last felt this tired and happy.

Probably the day Ben had been born, which happened to be this very day fifteen years ago.

She wished he was with them now to complete the family—or did she? It seemed such a very long time since he’d been the son she’d found it so easy to love, the fresh-faced boy who’d tumble in from football covered in mud, eyes glittering with triumph as he powed and whoofed and kicked the air, reliving the game. The son who’d sneak into her bed on Sunday mornings for a cuddle and tickle before going downstairs to wreak havoc in the playroom. The son who charged about the vale with friends he’d known since before he could walk, who played on all the sports teams, who was top of the class in science, maths, and geography, who had friends she knew and was always kind.

He had yet to respond to any of the messages Matt and Abby had left on his voicemail about the baby, which wasn’t particularly surprising when he’d shown no interest in it at all.

“I keep telling you,” Abby declared when Justine voiced her dismay, “he’s sulking because this is supposed to be his birthday, not anyone else’s. He is soooo self-involved—”

“His phone’s probably out of battery,” Matt interrupted, taking the baby from her.

“No way!” Abby protested. “He’s doing this to make you feel bad, and it’s working. You shouldn’t give him the satisfaction.”

Justine said to Matt, “You ought to go and find him, take him for a pizza, or wherever he wants to go.”

“Like he’d go anywhere with one of us,” Abby snorted.

“Don’t be like that,” Justine chided, in spite of knowing Abby was right.

“Well! Tell me, when was the last time—”

“Enough,” Justine whispered, raising a hand.

Matt was gazing adoringly at the baby’s sleeping face. Justine pulled back the blanket so she could see her too.

“Hello, Tallulah Catherine May,” she murmured, touching a finger to the minuscule white spots on the baby’s silky-soft cheek.

Lula’s delicate eyelids flickered as her rosebud lips blew a little bubble.

“Why did you go for that name?” Abby wanted to know. “I thought you weren’t going to.”

“Ben chose Tallulah, you know that.”

“Only because you kept on at him for a suggestion, so he went for one he was sure you’d hate.”

“He chose it because he thought it was pretty,” Justine argued, “and it is.”

“I like Lula,” Matt informed them, easing a little finger into his newest daughter’s tiny fist.

They all laughed as Lula burped, opened her mouth wide, and closed it again.

Looking up at Matt, Justine said, “They’ll probably let me go home after the next feed—” She broke off as Matt’s phone rang.

Please let it be Ben, although not if he’s going to say something cruel.

“Hi Simon,” Matt said, allowing Justine to take the baby. “Thanks, mate. Yes, she’s a beauty. Two point eight kilos, ten fingers, ten toes, and everything seems to be working.” As he listened to his brother he whispered to Justine, “Apparently Mum’s on her way.”

Justine smiled. It would be good to have Catherine around for a while. She was always so unflappable and cheery, and perhaps best of all, she had a way with Ben that no one else seemed to have.

“Si, could you do me a favor?” Matt was saying to his brother, “We’re not sure where Ben is…You know it’s his birthday today…Really? You saw him? When, where?” His eyes went to Justine. “He’s at home,” he repeated with a sigh of relief. “He’s not answering his phone,” he told Simon, “which could be because he’s stuck into some videogame…That’s great, Si. Thanks. Yeah, he’ll love it if Wes goes too.” After ringing off he said to Justine, “Simon’s offered to take him into town for some Italian. If it happens I think I should join them so he doesn’t feel we forgot him entirely today.”

“He wouldn’t care,” Abby informed them.

“Says you,” Justine retorted.

“I’m telling you, he even boasts about it, that he couldn’t care less about anyone—”

Cutting across her, Justine said to Matt, “Don’t worry about me if you go. I’ll have my girls to keep me company.” She held out a hand for Abby’s. Taking it, Abby said, “It’s going to be so weird having a baby around. I mean, cool, but weird, especially when everyone’s probably going to think she’s mine. Oh God, I hope I don’t get mistaken for one of those loser single mums who get pregnant just to live off benefits.”

“I don’t think that’s likely,” Justine responded drily.

Abby’s face softened as the baby started to wake up. “Hello, little Lula,” she whispered sweetly. “I’m your big sister, Abby. I reckon you’re going to look just like me. Let’s hope so, anyway, because you definitely wouldn’t want to look like Ben with his hairy face and spots…”

“Stop being unpleasant about him,” Matt chided. “He’s not in a good place, we know that.”

“That’s the understatement of all time,” Abby snapped, “because when’s he ever been in a good place? He should get over himself and give the rest of us a break.”

“Taking that sort of attitude doesn’t help,” Matt reminded her. “It just drives a wedge between the two of you, and that’s not what we want. And I hope you don’t speak about him that way to anyone outside the family.”

“Oh, that’s right, let’s all have a go at Abby now, why don’t we? I’m only the one who helped get Mum here, who held her hand until you turned up, had to listen to her screaming and swearing…”

“I did not swear,” Justine protested.

“You so did. Even I’ve never heard those words before.”

Laughing, Matt said, “What were you supposed to be doing this evening?”

Abby shrugged. “I was just going to hang out with Chantal and Nelly. We thought we might rehearse some new stuff I’ve been working on.”

“What news on Neil?” Justine asked.

“He’s cool, as far as I know. Chantal went to see him earlier and texted that he’ll probably have to have chemo after the op, but he should be all right after that.”

Justine’s heart ached for the boy. First leukemia, then a suspected cancer of the spine, now a tumor in his neck…What hell it must be for Maddy and Ronnie. It seemed that every time they felt able to breathe again, something else tried to strike him down.

And throughout it all Neil never failed to be anything but optimistic and cheerful.

How she wished she could say the same for Ben, whose smile she hadn’t seen since she couldn’t remember when, unless she counted the ugly grimace when he’d shown her the tattoo on his knuckles—HATE.

It was largely because of Neil and their many visits to hospital wards that Chantal and Nelly had both decided on careers in medicine. Justine, agreeing with their parents, felt pretty confident that they were bright enough and determined enough to succeed—unless their ambitions changed along the way. This was always possible, of course, and no one was holding them to anything. In fact, all anyone knew for certain these days was that Abby was no longer interested in auditioning for
The X Factor
, thank goodness, though not because she’d lost her ambition, far from it, but because Harry Sands had declared it to be for saddos minus a shame gene.

“Which means she should win hands down,” Ben had sneered when Abby had repeated this to her parents.

“Unless you went in for it too,” she’d shot back, “then no one would stand a chance of getting anywhere near the number one spot.”

To Justine’s surprise, Ben had seemed to find this funny.

“Why don’t you try saying something nice to each other for a change?” Justine implored.

“I say nice stuff all the time,” Abby insisted.

“Not to me you don’t,” he grunted.

“Who would?”

“No one in this family, that’s for sure.”

“Because you’re a moron who hardly ever washes or cleans his teeth or changes his clothes.”

“And you are a seriously bad fucking singer who should do us all the favor of shutting the fuck up, for good.”

“Ben!” Justine snapped.

“Bad, bad, bad, that’s what you are,” he continued taunting, “and I’m the only one who’s got the guts to tell you.”

Stricken, Abby turned to her father.

“Dad! Did you hear that? He is so—”

“Ben, go upstairs,” Matt told him. “You’re creating tension the way you always do, so don’t come back until you’re ready to apologize.”

“Apologize for what? Telling the truth? You know she’s crap, so why…Hey! Get your hands off me! What the f—”

Hauling him out of his chair, Matt said, “Go to your room, now, and when you come back the apology should be for all of us.”

“You’ll wait a long time for that,” Ben snorted as he headed along the hall. “You are such a bunch of no-hopers. I don’t know what I did to be a part of this family…”

Matt slammed the door so they couldn’t hear any more.

That unpleasant little scene, typical of so many, though not nearly as bad as some, had erupted only yesterday, the day before his birthday, and now Lula’s birthday too.