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Authors: Erica James
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enough.
By the time she reached Keele Services on the M6 she had to stop and be sick. If ever she had needed her sister at the other end of the phone, or right here with her, this was it. Felicity would have bucked her up; she would have made her laugh and said all the right things. She would have told her Spencer was a shallow toe-rag of the highest order, that she was better off without him.
She emerged from the toilets and joined a queue for a cup of tea to take away the vile taste in her mouth. She had to admit that part of her anger lay in the misguided shred of hope she had clung to. Spencer had been the only thing left that symbolised the woman she had been before Felicity’s death - the woman she still wanted to be. Losing him meant she had to sever that tie and submit to the only certainty in her new life: that her days as an independent, carefree woman were over. She was now a parent. A parent whose will had to be subjugated to the needs of the children in her care.
As she sat in the busy service station, surrounded by a coach party of raucous pensioners on their way home after a day out, she finally accepted that her old way of life was over. It was as dead and buried as Felicity. Feeling pathetically sorry for herself she thought of everything she’d lost - her sister, her home, her job, her identity, and now her boyfriend. What next? Her mind?
Chapter Eight
Carrie closed the door of the Wendy house, looked at Joel and frowned. He was sucking his thumb and rubbing his cheek with his silky. His silky was a pale pink scarf Mum had worn when he’d been a baby. He used to stroke it whenever she wore it and then one night she gave it to him to help him sleep. He was always carrying the scarf around with him, dragging it on the floor when he was really little. Carrie could remember the time they were going somewhere and couldn’t find it. Joel had cried and cried and wouldn’t get in the car until he had it. They found it under a pile of his toys. He wasn’t a baby then, but he’d acted like one.
He was acting like a baby now, sucking his thumb and making that humming noise he made when he was tired or upset. None of the grown-ups seemed to notice that he was doing it more and more, but Carrie knew he had to stop. If he did it when he went to school, he’d be laughed at. Someone would have to tell him. And seeing as she was the only one who knew what he was doing, it would have to be her. She sat in the chair next to him and put her arm around his shoulders, just as Mummy used to whenever she had something important to say. ‘Joel,’ she said, ‘do you remember Daddy saying that big boys don’t suck their thumbs? It’s something you grow out of.’
Joel unplugged his thumb, making a small popping sound. ‘Mummy said I could do it.’
‘Yes, but that was when you were very little. Now you’re a big boy. You’ll be five soon.’
He shook his head. ‘But Mummy said it was all right. She did.’ His eyes wide, he clutched at his silky as though afraid Carrie might snatch it from him.
She tried to make her voice sound firm, like a grown-up’s. ‘I’m only telling you this for your own good, Joel. Because when you go to big school in a few weeks’ time, you’ll get laughed at if you don’t act like all the other children. And if I’m not around to keep an eye on you, they’ll pick on you.’
His eyes opened even wider. ‘Then I’m not going to school.’
‘But you have to.’
He shook his head and put his thumb back in his mouth.
Carrie took her arms away from him, folded them in front of her and tried to look stern. ‘If you don’t do as I say, I won’t let you sleep in my bed with me.’
The thumb was out again. ‘But I don’t like sleeping on my own.’
‘Then you have to do as I say.’
He looked thoughtful. ‘Can I take silky to school with me?’
‘No. You wouldn’t want to lose it, would you? And someone might take it. I took a doll to school once
By the time she reached Keele Services on the M6 she had to stop and be sick. If ever she had needed her sister at the other end of the phone, or right here with her, this was it. Felicity would have bucked her up; she would have made her laugh and said all the right things. She would have told her Spencer was a shallow toe-rag of the highest order, that she was better off without him.
She emerged from the toilets and joined a queue for a cup of tea to take away the vile taste in her mouth. She had to admit that part of her anger lay in the misguided shred of hope she had clung to. Spencer had been the only thing left that symbolised the woman she had been before Felicity’s death - the woman she still wanted to be. Losing him meant she had to sever that tie and submit to the only certainty in her new life: that her days as an independent, carefree woman were over. She was now a parent. A parent whose will had to be subjugated to the needs of the children in her care.
As she sat in the busy service station, surrounded by a coach party of raucous pensioners on their way home after a day out, she finally accepted that her old way of life was over. It was as dead and buried as Felicity. Feeling pathetically sorry for herself she thought of everything she’d lost - her sister, her home, her job, her identity, and now her boyfriend. What next? Her mind?
Chapter Eight
Carrie closed the door of the Wendy house, looked at Joel and frowned. He was sucking his thumb and rubbing his cheek with his silky. His silky was a pale pink scarf Mum had worn when he’d been a baby. He used to stroke it whenever she wore it and then one night she gave it to him to help him sleep. He was always carrying the scarf around with him, dragging it on the floor when he was really little. Carrie could remember the time they were going somewhere and couldn’t find it. Joel had cried and cried and wouldn’t get in the car until he had it. They found it under a pile of his toys. He wasn’t a baby then, but he’d acted like one.
He was acting like a baby now, sucking his thumb and making that humming noise he made when he was tired or upset. None of the grown-ups seemed to notice that he was doing it more and more, but Carrie knew he had to stop. If he did it when he went to school, he’d be laughed at. Someone would have to tell him. And seeing as she was the only one who knew what he was doing, it would have to be her. She sat in the chair next to him and put her arm around his shoulders, just as Mummy used to whenever she had something important to say. ‘Joel,’ she said, ‘do you remember Daddy saying that big boys don’t suck their thumbs? It’s something you grow out of.’
Joel unplugged his thumb, making a small popping sound. ‘Mummy said I could do it.’
‘Yes, but that was when you were very little. Now you’re a big boy. You’ll be five soon.’
He shook his head. ‘But Mummy said it was all right. She did.’ His eyes wide, he clutched at his silky as though afraid Carrie might snatch it from him.
She tried to make her voice sound firm, like a grown-up’s. ‘I’m only telling you this for your own good, Joel. Because when you go to big school in a few weeks’ time, you’ll get laughed at if you don’t act like all the other children. And if I’m not around to keep an eye on you, they’ll pick on you.’
His eyes opened even wider. ‘Then I’m not going to school.’
‘But you have to.’
He shook his head and put his thumb back in his mouth.
Carrie took her arms away from him, folded them in front of her and tried to look stern. ‘If you don’t do as I say, I won’t let you sleep in my bed with me.’
The thumb was out again. ‘But I don’t like sleeping on my own.’
‘Then you have to do as I say.’
He looked thoughtful. ‘Can I take silky to school with me?’
‘No. You wouldn’t want to lose it, would you? And someone might take it. I took a doll to school once
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