---

I have drifted in and out of sleep and I awake to a gentle hissing of rain. It’s soothing and Victoria is still sleeping.

A sharp knock on the door breaks me out of the delicious wooziness. I look out of the window. It’s not Michelle or Sam. It’s Judith, shuffling from foot to foot, pulling the belt of her coat so hard I can imagine the sensation across my own stomach, the squashing of her insides. Peter is there too. I can just see the top of his head, the collar of his jacket.

I run my hands through my hair. On the way past the bathroom, I swill some mouthwash around my mouth, holding it for a few seconds longer so it starts to tingle and burn.

Judith looks surprised when I open the door. ‘Hi,’ she says, her expression too enthusiastic. ‘I just thought I’d come round and see you, since you’re here.’

I sense a dig that I haven’t been round to see her again. She looks even more tightly wound than usual.

Judith looks up and down the exterior of the house, the grey stains, the missing bits of plaster and the chewed-up garden. Peter’s eyes are down, he’s kicking at the edge of the doorstep, reminding me of a schoolboy.

‘OK, yeah, ’course, come in,’ I say.

Judith thrusts a tin and a plastic tub into my hands. ‘Just a few bits; thought you might not have a lot of time to cook. Some beef casserole, and coffee and walnut cake. I was making it for us anyway, so no trouble.’

She leaves it in my hands and glides past. Peter brushes past me too. I follow them in. Judith’s eyes are darting everywhere, gaze bouncing off every surface.

She undoes the knot in her belt. ‘Wow,’ she says. ‘Can you believe it?’ She’s still fiddling with her coat, fingers failing to grasp the buttons. ‘It’s like stepping back in time.’

Peter nudges her with his elbow, fists shoved deep into his trouser pockets, but she ignores him.

My phone rings in my bag on the sofa. Everyone’s eyes go to it.

‘Everything alright?’ Judith edges forwards to try and get a look at the phone.

‘They’ll ring back,’ I say.

The phone stops and starts again. When I get closer I can see the name illuminated. Nathan.

Judith’s and Peter’s eyes are still on me.

I reach in the bag, as if I’m going to answer it, and I reject the call, turning the ringer down to silent on the side of the phone. I pretend to try to answer it. ‘Always happens, doesn’t it? The minute you get to it, they ring off.’ I place the phone face down on the table.

Judith puts her hand up to her throat. ‘The décor hasn’t changed at all.’ There’s a pained expression on her face.

‘Aye, it’s been a bloody long time,’ Peter says, brusque.

I turn the baby monitor on, Victoria is still upstairs. ‘Can I get you a tea or coffee?’ I say.

Judith doesn’t hear me, or if she does, she doesn’t let on. She is still peering round into each corner of the room, staring down into the carpet, focusing in on the worn, threadbare patches. I can almost feel her shrinking away, recoiling from twenty years of dirt. Once again I get an unexpected rush of feeling protective of Mum, of people judging her.

Judith nods. ‘I’ll have one,’ Peter says. ‘Tea – milk, two sugars.’

As I’m making the drinks, Judith drifts in. I am conscious of her hovering behind me, sizing up the kitchen too.

I can feel her eyes in my back. She isn’t moving around any more. I wait for what I know she is thinking, what she is going to say.

‘Do you need any help?’ she says.

‘No, I’m right, thanks. Do you take sugar?’

‘Ooh, God no, not for me, thanks.’

I should have known that. I put two spoons of sugar in mine. I need it. Judith sneaks up behind me and hands me a box of sweeteners, and I click one into her cup. We take the drinks and she follows me back into the living room as if we are attached by string.

‘So, where is she?’ Judith says, blowing on her tea then putting it down, not drinking any. It’s what people always want to know since I had a baby. Sylvie and Victoria, Victoria and Sylvie again.

‘Sorry, she’s asleep. We had a bit of a bad night last night. So I’m going to leave her, let her catch up a bit.’

‘Really…?’

‘Mmm-hmmm,’ I say, hiding behind blowing on my cup.

‘I always felt it was better to have some kind of routine, personally,’ Judith says, as casual as she can. ‘You know, naptime, dinner time, bedtime, stays the same no matter what. It isn’t always easy, but it can help. You don’t want to make a rod for your own back.’

‘Jude,’ Peter cuts in. ‘Leave the lass to do things her own way, will you?’

He’s making me nervous standing on the edge of the fireplace, leaning backwards and forwards, his foot scraping against it.

She tuts. ‘Oh, give over, Peter. I’m just telling her, one mother to another, what I learned. I’m just trying to…’ She trails off.

‘It’s fine, thanks, Judith. I appreciate your support and you coming round.’ I rub the top of her arm. I know she means well.

She sits down. ‘Do you think Victoria would have had a baby, Sylvie?’

I freeze. The room sways. Peter tuts and sighs.

‘I’m going to answer a call of nature,’ he says, going upstairs.

‘I don’t know; we didn’t really think about it then. We were too young.’ I remember the pact we made, in the school field that night. Let’s never ever.

‘I think she would,’ Judith goes on. ‘She always fawned over her little cousins. I would have so loved a little grandchild. Peter too.’

She stares into the cup, but doesn’t drink anything, the distaste showing faintly across her face again. Then she shakes her head quickly, rolling her shoulders back. ‘Listen to me, coming round here all doom and gloom. It isn’t good for any of us, is it?’ She slaps her hands onto her knees. ‘I actually came round to ask you something. A favour, I suppose.’

‘OK… what’s that, then?’ I say, playing for time.

Peter bangs around upstairs, flushing the toilet, running the tap. Victoria will be awake very soon now.

‘Sam. His documentary,’ she says, still focusing on her drink. ‘I do understand how difficult this has been for you, you know, how much it must have affected you, with your mother and everything else too. But Peter and I would just really appreciate it if you would participate. Well, me really. Peter’s a bit upset about it all. What they’ve been saying. He says it’s all dirty-linen-airing, but I don’t care what they say if we get to the truth. Why should I care? I’ve nothing to hide.’

Before I can argue, Judith says, ‘It might be our last chance, Sylvie. Sam might not be here that long. If he had you on board… he says he’d have more chance of them picking it up if you’re on board.’

‘I’ll do what I can,’ I say.

‘You’ll talk to him?’

I give her a half nod.

Judith’s face floods with happiness. ‘Thanks so much, Sylvie. It really does mean a lot to me.’ She jumps up from the chair, her face bright again. ‘Now, I’ll get these washed up.’ She starts gathering up the cups. Peter’s and Judith’s drinks are untouched.

‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘No problem. I know how it is, don’t worry. You don’t get a minute to yourself, eh? You sit down for a bit.’

She goes into the kitchen, running the tap loudly, humming to herself.

Victoria’s murmuring breaks through on the baby monitor. I set off to go to her, then stop. Peter’s voice. I knew he would wake her.

‘Hello, hello, gorgeous,’ he says. ‘Have you had a lovely sleep? Have you? Haven’t you got a pretty name? Yes, you have.’

She gurgles at him.

I hear him strain, like he’s reaching or stretching. The monitor crackles.

‘Look at this, Victoria. Just look at this.’ The straining sound again. ‘Your mummy is a dirty bitch, isn’t she, just like her mummy was as well.’

My breath catches in my throat. I think of my underwear, dumped on the bedroom floor.

Then I hear him again. ‘Are you going to grow up just like your mummy? No, you’re not, are you?’ His voice is soft and playful, detached from what he’s saying.

Judith comes back in and looks at the baby monitor, and I realise I had been staring at it too.

‘Everything alright, love?’ Judith says.

Victoria lets out a wail and Judith gives me one of her fixed smiles. I think of my Care Bear upstairs, its plastic eyes.

Peter is coming down the stairs slowly. The cry has gone from the baby monitor and is getting closer. He appears with Victoria in the doorway and lifts her up in the air, jiggling her. Over-fussing with her when she’s just woken up.

‘She’s such a grand little thing, isn’t she?’ He rubs Victoria’s cheek gently and she smiles at him. Peter gives me a big, warm grin and ruffles my hair like he used to when I was waiting for Victoria to come downstairs.

It was less than two minutes ago that I heard him on the monitor, but that doesn’t seem real now. The feeling of disconnection makes it hard to focus, and I fix my eyes on a spot on the ceiling.

Peter strokes Victoria’s cheek and hands her to Judith. ‘I was just saying,’ he says, ‘how much she looks like you and how much you look like your mum.’

---

Finally, after a while fussing over Victoria, Judith says, ‘OK, darling. Time to say bye-bye to Nanny Judith.’

My body tightens. She steals a look across at me and I try to quickly rearrange my face so I don’t hurt her feelings. I force on my own smile and she says it again, pushes it a bit further, less hesitant this time. ‘Nanny Judith loves you, doesn’t she? Yes, she does.’

Judith leans in closer and kisses Victoria’s mouth, leaving a light trace of brownish-red lipstick. I stand up and hold my arms out to take her back. Judith hugs me then. She smells sweet, highly scented. Peter kisses me on the top of my head then ruffles my hair again. Finally, they leave, and I watch them walk towards the car.

I wipe Victoria’s mouth with a wet wipe and it makes her cry. She won’t stop for a long time. Eventually we go into the garden and I walk her round and round, even though it’s drizzling. We walk down to the end of the garden, the rockery that Mum and Dad once loved all overgrown and decaying.

The swing seat is filthy and rusting; I sit on it anyway, pushing off leaves and tipping off a slug. At first it feels rigid, but after a few pushes with my feet off the floor, it starts to ease up and we can gently swing backwards and forwards, a grating, squeaking noise cranking out each time. This calms Victoria and she starts to rest easier on my chest, giving in to the movement.

Up at the window next door, someone is looking down at me. But it’s not Joyce; it’s a man, must be her husband. I don’t look away; I hold his gaze. Uncertainly, he waves his hand and I wave back, then he pulls the curtain across and is gone.

We stay out on the swing seat until the sky becomes darker and more overcast and the drizzle turns to rain. But, for the rest of the day, Victoria is calmer. She plays on the mat, grabbing for the Velcro windows, pressing a duck’s beak and turning to look at me, equally surprised each time when it emits a noise.

I flip my phone over quickly and force myself to check it. Eight missed calls from Nathan. As I’m staring at it, it starts to light up again and I answer.

‘You’re alive, then?’ It’s Beth, from work.

The memory slams in now that we’d had a plan to meet one day for coffee on her day off.

‘Shit, sorry,’ I say. ‘Was it today we were supposed to meet?’

‘Noooo,’ she says. ‘It was last week, actually, but I figured you had your hands full. But you hadn’t replied to my email either so I thought I’d have to bring the big guns out and phone you. Terrifying, eh? The lengths you’ve pushed me to.’

‘Sorry,’ I say again. ‘I’m away at the minute.’

‘Oh right, great. With Nathan?’

‘No, it’s er… a family thing.’

‘Right.’ That seems to suitably dampen her interest.

‘How’s work?’

‘Ah, you know. Dead as. The usual.’

We chat for a while about the shop and Victoria and lack of sleep.

‘Listen,’ Beth says. ‘There was something I wanted to ask you about. There’s been someone in the shop asking me about you.’

‘About me?’

‘Well… he was asking about a Ruby,’ she says. ‘But he meant you.’ Her voice sounds reinforced, like she’s delivering information that she’d prefer not to.

A sinkhole opens up inside me.

‘Sounds like a misunderstanding,’ I say, embroidering confusion onto my tone.

‘Didn’t seem like it,’ Beth says, firm. ‘He seemed pretty sure of himself. He recognised me from that night out we had this time last year – the one that got a bit lairy. He said he saw us together earlier in the night. He clearly wasn’t as shit-faced as us. But he did ring a bell once he mentioned it. I saw you talking to him before I left the club. Remember? You didn’t want to leave. I thought it was a little bit odd, that’s all. He described what you were wearing, your hair, the lot. Definitely you.’

‘I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Suit yourself. Is everything alright, Sylv?’

‘It’s fine.’ My voice is thin and tight. ‘I’ll have to go soon. Got some family stuff to deal with.’

‘OK,’ Beth says. ‘If that’s what you want. You know where I am if you need me, though, for anything. Hiding in the stockroom that’s where.’

‘Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll let you know when I’m back in Glasgow. Beth?’

‘Yes?’

‘What did you tell him? The man asking for this Ruby?’

‘It’s like you said, isn’t it? I told him I thought he must have the wrong person, a misunderstanding.’