‘I’m worried about the girls,’ she said, trying a different tack. ‘They were already struggling, and now this…’
‘Maybe you should have thought of that first,’ he said, his spite a gut reaction. Then he thought about Jeremy, lying dead on the grass less than a mile from the house. ‘Oh well, look on the bright side, eh.’
‘There’s a bright side?’
‘There is for me. For once none of you can blame everything on me. You and Jeremy can share this one.’
‘And is that all that matters to you?’
‘I’m sick of being the whipping boy. Everything’s always my fault.’
‘That’s because it usually is,’ she said without thinking. She cringed inwardly, waiting for his reaction, bracing herself in case he came at her. When he didn’t, she risked saying more. She knew she had to; the enormity of the moment slowly dawning on her. It was now or never: to put up with more of his shit and risk things getting even worse, or to finally make a stand and do something about it. Tammy had said as much the other night, and Michelle knew now that her daughter had been right. She’d known it for a long time. ‘It’s your fault we’re here and in this mess, Scott. Your fault we had to leave Redditch.’
‘So is what happened this morning somehow my fault too? Is it my fault I lost my temper when I saw another man trying to fuck my wife outside my bedroom window? Jeez, what a terrible overreaction on my part. What do you think I should I have done, Chelle? Fetched you a bloody condom? Cleared out of the bedroom so you two could have had the bed?’
‘I can’t explain this morning. I just…’ she started to say before losing her nerve. Deep breath. Can’t avoid this. Have to do it. ‘I think you’re the cause of all our problems. I want you to go. I want you to leave us alone.’
He threw himself at her and she cowered, braced for the familiar rush of pain. But he stopped, fist just inches from her face, and grinned as she shrank away from him. ‘You’ve got this all mixed up in that empty little head of yours,’ he said. ‘You see, love, I’m the one who keeps this fucked-up family together. I don’t know why I bother sometimes.’
‘Then why don’t you just stop? Leave us alone… Don’t you get it? There’s nothing wrong with us. There’s nothing wrong with Thussock or any of the people here… it’s all you. You’re the one who’s different. You’re the one who’s got it wrong, the one who doesn’t fit in. You should just pack your stuff and—’ The phone started to ring, interrupting her. She heard Tammy sprint to the living room to answer it. Michelle tried to follow but Scott blocked her way.
‘You’re unbelievable, you know that?’ he said. ‘You’re deluded.’
‘I think I might have been, but I’m starting to see things more clearly now.’
Tammy was in the doorway. ‘It’s Jackie. She’s asking to talk to you, Mum. Says it’s urgent.’
‘Be a good girl and tell the nice lady that your mother’s busy,’ Scott said. ‘Actually, tell her your mother’s busy and ask her to stop sticking her fucking nose in other people’s business.’
‘Leave Jackie alone,’ Michelle said. ‘She’s a good friend.’
‘I know. I met her.’
‘You didn’t say.’
‘No, and you didn’t tell me she was round here when I was locked up, either. Have a little party, did you? Drinks with friends while I was away?’
‘That’s not fair, Scott,’ Michelle protested, pushing past him to get to the phone. ‘None of this is Jackie’s fault. She came around to support me. She’s just—’
‘—she’s just another frigging hillbilly local who can’t keep her nose out of other people’s business.’
Michelle ignored him and snatched up the phone, but the line was dead. She checked and double-checked it, then turned back to face him again. ‘What have you done to the phone?’
‘What are you talking about now? How could I have done anything to the phone?’
‘It’s disconnected.’
‘It has to be you,’ Tammy said. ‘You pulled the cable out because you don’t like Mum having friends.’
‘Jesus, love, you’re getting as bad as your mother. You’re all paranoid.’
‘I’m not paranoid, and I’m not your love,’ she spat.
Scott grabbed the phone from Michelle and held it to his ear. Nothing. He tried making a call – still nothing. The screen lit up but there was no noise, not even a dialling tone. ‘I give up,’ he said. ‘Is there nothing in this house you lot can’t fuck up?’
‘Come on, Tam,’ Michelle said and dragged Tammy upstairs.
‘Something I said?’ Scott shouted after them. ‘Where you going now?’
‘To check on Phoebe and George.’
‘But I thought you wanted to talk…’
They went into Phoebe’s room and found her sitting on her bed, knees drawn up to her chest, George playing by her feet. Her face was drawn; eyes red, cheeks streaked with tears. She didn’t even look up. Michelle crouched down and put a hand on her arm but Phoebe pulled away. ‘Come on, Pheeb, please… don’t do this.’
‘Don’t do what?’ Phoebe said, her voice so quiet the words were hard to make out. ‘I haven’t done anything. It was you, remember? You and my dad. I saw you.’
‘Look, if I could do something to put this right, I would. I swear, I don’t know what happened or why… I think we’re all under a lot of stress right now with the house move and new jobs and new schools and—’
‘I’ve tried though, Mum. I haven’t done anything wrong. When you lot were all bitching and fighting, I was just getting on with it, trying to make the most of it. None of this is my fault.’
‘I never said it was.’
‘You and my dad, trying to shag each other out in public…’
‘Don’t use that word, Phoebe.’
‘What do you want me to say instead then? Cuddling? Raping? It was disgusting…’
‘I only went out there to try and talk to him. I didn’t mean for the rest of it to happen, I swear. I just—’
She stopped talking abruptly when she heard a noise downstairs. Someone was at the front door. Was it Jeremy? Tammy had the same thought and she moved fast, desperate to get there before Scott did. The door flew open before she was halfway downstairs, kicked in from outside. Hazmat wearing soldiers flooded into the house. Michelle yanked Tammy back as Scott ran at the nearest of them. They overpowered him easily, catching his arms and dragging him into the kitchen, kicking and yelling. They looked terrifying in their camouflaged all-in-one suits, their faces obscured by breathing apparatus, eyes hidden behind reflective visors.
George clung to Michelle’s leg. She scooped him up into her arms and ran back to Phoebe’s room, pushing Tammy ahead of her. Once inside, she turned to shut the door, only to find it wedged open by a light brown boot. The soldier forced the door open again, sending Michelle, George and the girls running to the furthest corner of the room. He had a rifle, but left it slung over his shoulder. His gloved hands were raised. ‘Come downstairs please, ladies,’ he said, his deep voice distorted by his breathing gear. ‘Everything’s going to be all right.’
Michelle thought she detected a faint Midlands accent and that familiarity, bizarrely, made her feel marginally safer. There were three more soldiers on the landing, and even more behind them. The first man led them back down to the kitchen in silence as others explored the rest of the house.
‘Anyone else here?’
‘No, just the five of us,’ Michelle said. She felt herself relax, or was it just that she was finally giving up and shutting down? Was she relieved because there were people here now who could keep Scott under control, or was it more than that? Somehow, in the utter chaos of this day so far, the house being invaded by a horde of faceless, protective-suit wearing soldiers made things feel a little more certain. She began to think it might not just be this household which was screwed-up beyond repair. Maybe the rest of Thussock was the same too?