The Astonishing Return of Norah Wells (9 page)

Willa sits at the kitchen table arranging cubes of mozzarella on the pizza bases. She pushes the back of her wobbly tooth with her tongue and makes a list all the things that feel normal about this Friday evening and all the things that feel weird.

Normal things:
 

Daddy wearing his pinny because he's in charge of dinner, which happens every Friday because Mummy does night shifts on Thursdays and needs to rest.

The table covered in pizza bases and jars of tomato sauce and bowls of toppings because it's make-your-own-pizza night, which also happens every Friday.

Louis gnawing on his Friday bone in the corner under the window, though he doesn't look as excited about it as usual.

Weird things:
 

The woman with the long red hair keeps staring at Willa and acting like she knows everyone even though no one's introduced her. She definitely looks like Auntie Norah from the pictures on Ella's wall, Auntie Norah who played the trumpet and was a really fast runner. Anyway, it's weird that she's here.

Other things that are weird:
 

The fact that Daddy hasn't put on his Beach Boys CD. And that he said he was sorry that Auntie Norah had turned up so unexpectedly. Willa didn't understand why it was his fault and why he should be sorry about it.

The fact that Mummy looks even more tired than she usually looks on a Friday.

The fact that the three grown-ups keep shooting glances at each other and whispering. They talk about Ella and say that Ella's teacher called to say that she's staying later to catch up on some work, but Willa knows that Ella can copy anyone's voice and make it sound real, even a grown-up's.

And that was the weirdest thing of all: Ella not being here – and make-your-own-pizza-night is Ella's favourite.

Every Friday she sits next to Willa at the kitchen table and shows her how to make funny faces with pineapple rings and slices of ham and strips of pepper. Willa gets a heavy feeling in her tummy when she thinks about Ella not being here, and about her going to see Sai.

Willa's been keeping Ella's Sai secrets for ages. She's met him a few times and she thinks he's nice and doesn't believe that he could have done all the bad things Daddy goes on about. For starters, Willa hasn't seen him smoke once, but Ella smokes all the time. But the point is that Daddy doesn't like him, and if he finds out that Ella's staying with him he'll hit the roof.

Willa wipes her hands on her jumper, slips off her stool and goes to sit in the den under the stairs. Although there's lots of household stuff in here, and Mummy's DIY box, and although Daddy walks through the den to get to the stairs that lead down to the basement where he does his photos, Willa's still managed to make it cosy for Louis. She's made a bed for him using a pillowcase stuffed with old tights and socks and bits of cotton wool, so that he's got somewhere snug to sleep. She leans against the wall, takes out her mobile and rings Ella's number. It goes straight to the messaging service, which makes the heavy feeling in Willa's tummy get worse. Ella never switches off her phone. So Willa texts her:

Willa stares at the screen, waiting for a message to ping back, but it stays blank. She doesn't want to go back into the kitchen, not with everything feeling so weird. Not with Ella missing.

A soft knock on the door to the den. ‘Willa, darling? It's Mummy.' Mummy whispers her name so low that Willa can hardly make it out. ‘Are you okay in there?'

Willa smiles. Mummy always knows when something's wrong.
When my little girl's upset, I can feel it in my bones
, Mummy said once. And Mummy knows all about bones because she's a surgeon.

Willa opens the door and Mummy squeezes in, followed by Louis.

‘Silly beast,' Mummy says, patting Louis's big, wobbly tummy, but she lets him in anyway.

Ella thinks that Mummy hates Louis because she doesn't let him jump all over the beds, but Willa knows that she loves him really. Mummy's the one who took Louis to the vet to get a chip put inside him in case he ran away and got lost, and she's the one who bought a special crate for the boot of the car so he could come with them on holiday, and she's the one who buys him special good-for-him food because he's got too much sugar in his blood, and who fills up his water bowl and who takes him for walks when everyone else is too tired.

The den is so small that there's hardly enough room for all three of them to breathe.

Louis sits on top of Mummy.

‘So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?' Mummy asks.

Louis lets out a harrumph as though he wants to know too.

Willa thinks for a second. Is it worse to betray Ella's trust or not to say anything and risk Ella doing something she shouldn't do with Sai?

‘I think Ella might be in trouble,' Willa says.

Mummy rubs her eyes. They're bloodshot and she can't stop yawning. ‘What do you mean, Willa?'

‘I think she's with Sai.'

Mummy straightens her back. ‘She told you that?'

‘Sort of. I think so.' Willa's suddenly worried that maybe she's got it all wrong. Ella hadn't actually said his name, had she? ‘I don't think she's at school.'

Mummy wrinkles her brow. ‘We should tell Daddy.'

Willa knew this was coming. Ella would never forgive her if she told Daddy where she was. ‘Do we have to?'

Mummy nods. ‘He'll find out anyway, Willa.'

So Willa, Mummy and Louis leave the den and go back into the kitchen and tell Daddy.

‘She's where?' He takes off his pinny and throws it into the sink. And then his face goes red and the vein on his forehead pops out.

Willa once asked Mummy why Daddy gets so upset about Ella and Sai, and she said it's because he loves Ella, which is weird because if he loves Ella he should be pleased that she's found someone who makes her happy.

The No One Woman, who's maybe Auntie Norah and who's been hanging around, gets out of her chair.

‘Can I come with you?' she asks Daddy.

That's weird too.

Daddy looks at Mummy but Mummy doesn't look back at him; she looks out of the kitchen window and her eyes are sad.

Daddy looks back at No One Woman and nods and they both go off in the car to look for Ella, leaving Willa, Mummy and Louis behind staring at the soggy pizza bases.

Fay stands at the kitchen window and watches Adam and Norah drive away. Adam swerves to avoid an oncoming car that's speeding down Willoughby Street. Fay's written to the council to ask for speed bumps: too many people use the road as a cut-through.

Louis sits pressed up against Fay's leg, his body warm and heavy; Willa stands on her other side, staring out into the dark, spring night. Her breath fogs up the window; she draws a picture of a house with her finger: a square box, a triangle on top, a heart in the middle.

When are you coming to collect Willa?
Fay had called after her best friend as she disappeared down the road on that dark, snowy afternoon six years ago.

But Norah hadn't answered.

Willa rubs out the picture of the house. ‘Ella's going to be cross at me.' She scratches her scar. It's so red she must have been scratching it all day.

Fay takes her little girl's hand away from her face, wraps her fingers around it and squeezes it tight. ‘You did the right thing, Willa.'

‘I don't think Sai's as bad as Daddy thinks he is.'

‘Daddy just cares about Ella, that's all.'

Willa nods. And then she leans into Fay, her head resting against her waist. Louis shuffles into them like he wants to join in the hug. If only it could stay this simple: the three of them, standing in their home at the beginning of a bank holiday weekend.

On the afternoon Norah left, Fay had taken Willa into her bed and they'd fallen asleep together. She'd wanted to keep her close.

You're lucky,
Norah had said once.
No kids. No husband. No ties. Only yourself to worry about.

Norah didn't understand that only having to worry about yourself was the biggest burden of all.

Willa looks up at Fay. ‘Is No One Woman staying?'

No One Woman
. God, if only that were true.

‘We'll see.'

‘Will she live with us for ever?'

How long is for ever for a child? A day? A few months? Six years? And what's the answer? How long will Norah stay? She thinks of Norah sitting next to Adam in the car, parents off to rescue their teenage daughter. How long will it take for Adam to realise he still loves her? How long before Fay has to move out?

‘Mummy?'

‘I don't know, Willa.'

Willa gives Fay's hand a squeeze. ‘Maybe she'll stay for my birthday.'

‘Maybe.'

‘I think Louis likes her.' Willa kneels down and puts her arms around Louis's tummy.

Louis looks up at Fay. She'd even thought that he was hers.

Willa gets back up and looks back out of the window onto Willoughby Street.

‘You and Daddy aren't going to get a divorce, are you?'

‘A divorce?'

‘Lots of children at school have parents who are divorced.'

‘That's not something you should worry about, Willa.' Fay kisses Willa's forehead.

Get a divorce? We'd have to be married for that.

Willa stops stroking Louis and looks up at Fay: ‘And you'll always be my Mummy, won't you?'

Fay swallows hard. She looks out at the blossom falling in the soft spring night. Then she turns to Willa, kneels to be at her level.

‘Willa, I'd like you to go and pack a few things.'

Willa's eyes light up. ‘Pack my
Adventure
Suitcase
?'

Fay's cheeks flush. A rush of heat. Is this how Norah had felt?

‘Yes, your Adventure Suitcase.'

‘Where are we going?'

‘It's a surprise.'

Willa's eyes go even wider. ‘A surprise?'

‘An adventure.'

Willa jumps up and down. ‘What shall I pack?'

Fay starts to make a list:
pyjamas, a warm jumper, underwear, a toothbrush.
Then she stops herself. What the hell is she doing?

‘Mummy?'

‘Anything you like, darling.'

Willa smiles. ‘
Anything?
'

That's what Norah would say, isn't it? Nothing practical. No thinking ahead. Just acting on impulse.

‘Yes, anything.'

‘All the animals from my bed?'

‘As many as will fit.'

Willa skips off towards the stairs. Then she stops and turns round.

‘What are you taking with you, Mummy?'

Fay smiles. ‘I don't need anything.'

You're all I need,
Fay thinks. Losing the man she loves, her best friend, her goddaughter: maybe one day she would reconcile herself to that. But not Willa. Willa is hers.

‘You can borrow my things, then,' says Willa and runs up the stairs.

Ella throws her phone onto the chair.

‘What did you tweet?' Sai asks. He's lying on his bed studying his
Larousse Gastronomique
. He dreams of going to Paris to train to be a chef, because that's what his dad always wanted to do. Dad thinks Sai's a drop-out, but Sai's the most driven person Ella has ever met.

‘I told them I'm ditching the campaign,' Ella says.

Sai closes his book. ‘Why don't you give it some time?'

‘I don't need any time.'

‘They'll be disappointed.'

‘
I'm
bloody disappointed.' She looks out of the window at the street. Men are putting up spectator barriers for the Holdingwell 10k. ‘I hate her,' she says.

Sai sits up on the side of the bed. ‘Maybe if you talk to her, listen to her side of things… Those feelings, the ones you had for your Mum, they don't just go, Ella.'

‘No. They don't
just
go. It takes a lot. It takes what she did me – to all of us.' She looks back at Sai and tries to smile. ‘But it's okay. It's kind of a relief, really, not to be hoping any more.'

‘It's not okay, Ella. You're in shock. It's still sinking in, her turning up like this.'

‘I'm not in shock. I've just woken up, that's all.'

Ella goes over to Sai's bookcase and picks up his sponsorship form. He'd raised over five hundred pounds for the British Heart Foundation. Sai thinks that if there'd been more research on how people's hearts can go wrong, maybe his dad could have been saved.

She holds up the bit of paper. ‘This is amazing, Sai.'

‘Yeah, but I'm a bit rubbish at the running bit, aren't I?'

‘No you're not.'

They'd been training hard, Louis running alongside them.

Ella puts down the piece of paper.

‘You know what my first thought was when she turned up this morning? I thought,
she'll see me run. She'll be there at the 10k and I'll be able to show her how hard I've trained and she'll be proud
…
'

Sai stretches out his hand to her.

Ella sits beside him on the side of the bed and leans her shoulder against his chest.

‘She still can be, you know,' Sai says.

‘She won't. She's not staying.'

‘How do you know?'

‘She'll get the message that we don't want her here.'

Sai touches Ella's cheek. ‘You really are angry, aren't you?'

Ella takes his hand and lies back, pulling him alongside her, and for a moment they both stare at the ceiling. Sai looks round at her and touches a strand of her short hair. ‘I like it,' he says.

She meets his eyes. ‘It's not too short?'

‘If you can pull off a pixie haircut, it means your face is really beautiful. It means you're perfect, Ella.'

She raises her eyebrows. ‘
Perfect?
'

He nods and kisses the side of her mouth and then her mouth and then they're kissing properly and Ella doesn't want it to stop because it's the only good thing about her life right now, the only thing that makes her forget about her mum. She pulls him in closer. She feels the weight of his body against hers. She's thought about them going further than this. It's what terrifies Dad.

And then what?
she asked Dad once.
What would be so bad about me sleeping with Sai?

This had been at one of Fay's family meetings.

Why can't Ella sleep with Sai?
Willa had asked. At which point Fay had taken her out of the room.

Now Ella understood why Dad was scared. He was scared that she'd end up pregnant and that she and Sai would have to get married and that they'd end up like him and Mum: kids with kids. Sure, Mum and Dad had been a few years older when they'd had her, but they weren't ready, were they? Isn't that what Dad had implied earlier today? That he couldn't cope. And Mum couldn't cope with him not being able to cope. That that's why she'd left.

Sai kisses her neck and whispers:

‘And another cool thing about your hair?' he says. ‘It'll help you run faster on Monday. More aerodynamic.'

Ella takes a cushion and throws it against him.

He coughs and pushes it out of the way. ‘But mainly it's that you're beautiful…'

‘Good.'

Sai takes Ella's hand and they lie back and listen to each other's breathing.

‘Maybe if you think of a happy time,' Sai says.

‘What?'

‘It'll help you remember why you loved her – and why you wanted her home.'

‘I don't want to remember.'

‘Just try it.'

‘It won't work.'

‘You trust me, right?'

She gives him a small nod.

‘Close your eyes.' His fingers flutter over her face. She drops her eyelids. ‘Good.'

‘Was that your way of checking they were closed?'

‘Kind of.'

Ella laughs.

‘So, think about a moment, a single moment when you knew that you loved your Mum more than anyone or anything else in the world.'

‘Sai —'

‘Go with it.'

Sai was into this stuff. Guided meditations. Visualisations. It was an Indian thing, he said. Ella screws shut her eyes until darkness sweeps through her whole body.

‘Thought of a time?'

A light flashes behind her eyelids.

‘Sports day. A year and half before she left.'

‘You were, what —?'

‘Six.'

‘And it was Holdingwell Primary Sports Day?'

‘Yep.'

Before Sai needs to say anything else, it comes back to her in a big whoosh. Like she's actually there.

‘Tell me,' Sai says.

Ella keeps her eyes closed. She sees a big green space marked out into lanes.

‘You remember sports day? At Holdingwell Primary?'

‘God, yeah. Torture.'

‘Not for me. I was good at that stuff.' Ella pauses. ‘And so was Mum. She did the mothers and daughters' race every year. We practised for ages. Ran around Holdingwell in the rain. Me, Mum and Louis.'

‘Was your Dad there?'

‘He usually forgot. Most of the time, it was just the two of us.' Ella realises that by ‘just the two of us' she means more than Dad not being there: Willa wasn't born yet. She had Mum to herself. She's never thought that maybe things would have turned out differently if Willa hadn't come along. That the time she was really happy was when it was just her and Mum and Louis. It didn't matter, then, that Dad was rubbish at being a dad. They had each other. And that felt like enough. More than enough: it felt like the best thing in the world.

‘What are you seeing?' Sai asks.

Ella lets her mind float back.

‘We're at the start line. Mum's kneeling in front of me doing up my laces.'

‘What else do you see?'

Ella screws her eyes tighter shut.

Dad's standing on the slope that leads up to the main school buildings, a camera round his neck. Fay's beside him, holding Mum and Ella's water bottles. She was always right there, wasn't she? Holding them together, and they didn't even see it.

‘Is your mum saying anything?' Sai asks.

Ella focuses her gaze back on her mum. She's got bare feet. She said it was the most natural way, that the runners from Kenya, the best in the world, ran without shoes.

They'd get on, Mum and Sai. Ella'd had that thought more than once.

‘She's giving me a pep talk…' Ella hears her Mum's voice, deeper than most mums', her words full of breath like when she played the trumpet. ‘Run, Ella…
Run like a song
.'

‘Run like a song?'

‘You know the saying,
run like the wind
, right? Well, Mum changed wind to song. She thought that if you saw running like a piece of music, like getting into a beat and a rhythm, like following a story, you'd run from the heart.'

‘That's cool.'

She sees Mum's hair, lit up and shining like one of those bright copper pots, her skin transparent in the sun, her eyes fixed on Ella as if, at that moment, no one else in the world existed.

Ella's chest hurts. She wants to open her eyes but she can't pull herself from that sunny day in July, a year before Willa was born.

‘Ella?' Sai strokes her arm.

Ella opens her eyes and focuses on one of the glow-in-the-dark stars above his bed. ‘I worshipped her Sai. Like, really worshipped her. And now? I'm not even sure if all those amazing things I remembered about her, about the times we had together, actually happened or whether they're just what my head's made up for all these years to make her feel close. Maybe she was never that great.'

‘She was awesome.'

‘What?'

‘I remember her. I remember sports day, how you guys won every year. How I wished Dad would run with me like that in the fathers and sons' race, but he was overweight and struggled with his heart. You and your mum? You were
both
awesome. Everyone saw it.'

‘Really? You really remember us? You're not just making it up?'

‘Have I ever made things up?'

‘No.' And he hadn't. Sai was the single most honest person she'd ever met.

‘You really miss him, don't you?' she says.

‘Every day,' Sai says.

It's one of the things that makes Ella most angry about Dad – that he assumes Sai dropped out of school because he's thick or got into trouble or something. His Dad died of a heart attack and his Mum couldn't manage in the post office on her own. That's why he left school.

‘I love you,' she whispers. And then realises it's the first time she's said it out loud – and that saying it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

‘I love you too,' he says and then they kiss again, a kiss that goes deeper and further than ever before.