Yet she was still afraid to go home until Alan returned. Surely he must be on his way by now. The red beyond the hedge was a kite, a kite, but still she didn't like its swoops. The glimpse of red through the fence around the pool was the child's swimsuit, but every minute Liz was more on edge. Even the swings troubled her, dark shapes jerking up at the limit of her vision. Thank God the bar would be open soon, then she could leave Anna with the nursery girls; that was what they were here for. Besides, Anna had struck up a conversation with a young girl who'd been swimming in the pool.
It was almost time for the bar to open when Anna and her new friend headed for the gate. 'Where are you going,
Anna?' Liz called, and all the parents glanced at her. She couldn't speak to her own child now without being made to feel like a leper.
'Just up to her room.' There was a hint of a whine in Anna's voice which embarrassed Liz. How could she once have thought so much of her? 'Well, be quick.'
Five minutes later she heard the rattling as Jimmy raised the grille above the bar. Several parents stood up eagerly. Liz was glad. That meant they wouldn't be out here spying on her when she dealt with Anna for dawdling upstairs, for making her even more nervous. She should never have let the child out of her sight. Now the remaining parents had taken their children into the nursery building for lunch, and Liz was alone. The sunlight and the open landscape seemed suddenly deceptive, isolating her and yet surrounding her with hiding-places. She rose quickly – the red blur that came swooping towards her as if it had been lying in wait was a kite, just a kite – and headed for the bar. It was one way into the hotel. Perhaps Anna might even be in there, talking to Jimmy.
She was, and she turned guiltily when Liz came in. Did she look so guilty because she thought Liz might have overheard what she'd been saying to Jimmy? Or was it because of the way she was dressed? She'd borrowed her new friend's swimsuit, which displayed her bruises for all to see. 'Go upstairs at once and get dressed,' Liz said.
'I want to swim.' With so many people to hear, the child was defiant. She dodged out of Liz's reach and marched out through the open windows.
Liz felt as if everyone in the bar was watching her. They must all know why she wanted to cover up the marks on Anna's body. What did they know about it? More to the point, what could they do? Anna was her child, Liz was the one who had to deal with her. Let them try to stop her if they dared.
She went after her, feeling light on her feet, swift without having to run. Anna was struggling to unlatch the gate to the pool, but Liz would be on her before she could escape. Her nails felt electric, more alive than any other part of her. By the time Anna turned and saw her, it was too late. The way the child's eyes widened made Liz feel grimly pleased, so much so that it took her a few moments to realize that the child was staring beyond her, not at her at all.
Liz whirled round. Mr Mullen, Joseph's father, had come up silently behind her on the grass. In his red half-cooked stubbly face, his eyes looked like glass. He held her gaze for what seemed minutes before he spoke. 'Yes, that's right,' he said fiercely. Tm watching you. Just remember that.'
The wire gate slammed at her back. When at last he turned away and she was able to turn, she was just in time to see Anna diving into the pool. The long legs parted as the pale blue water took her, like an obscene gesture at Liz. Liz's fingernails were tingling, her nerves crawling with frustration. Some of the parents had come out to sit at one of the tables on the grass. Anna had escaped for now. Maybe she thought that here at the hotel she was safe from Liz – but the way Liz felt now, it would only make things worse for the child in the end.
Forty-three
The fog closed in overnight. It was at the open window when Anna woke next morning, and in her mouth, a horrible taste like being very ill. It made the sheets feel as if she'd wet the bed. She struggled out of them and ran to the bathroom, away from mummy, who was at the dressing-table and watching her in the mirror, watching her as if the mirror was a glassed-in cage. 'Don't close the door,' mummy said, in a voice so cold that it made Anna shiver.
Anna washed hastily and put on the clothes she'd worn yesterday, the only clothes she had at the hotel. They made her feel grubby, but she dared not say anything to mummy. She was hurrying so that they could go down to breakfast, so that she wouldn't be alone with mummy. She was frightened to be alone with her. She wished someone would take her away until mummy was better, until she turned back into mummy again. She wished as she'd never wished anything else that there was someone she could ask -someone she could tell about mummy. Whatever had happened to daddy was happening to mummy too.
It wasn't just that she'd dragged Anna out of bed in the middle of the night and into the dark. It wasn't that she'd looked ready to kill her when she'd worn her new friend's swimsuit, so much so that Anna had jumped in the pool to escape. It wasn't even that since then mummy had seemed ready to attack her at any moment, for any reason. These things were only tiny parts of what was happening. Mummy was nobody she knew, that was the horrible truth – she was a stranger who'd taken her place and who hated Anna for no reason. She was worse than daddy had been just before he'd gone away. Anna couldn't help remembering that now. If he really was coining home, that frightened her too.
Mummy unlocked the door of the room as soon as Anna came out of the bathroom. She didn't say a word, but her look was enough: her eyes said that she'd know everything Anna did, know if Anna said anything to anyone. Had she heard Anna's thoughts? Sometimes in the past, when mummy had been mummy, they'd been able to know what each other was thinking, and perhaps this stranger who looked like mummy could. She'd seemed to know yesterday, when Anna had been struggling to tell Jimmy a little of all that was wrong. All the way downstairs to breakfast Anna felt mummy's gaze on the back of her head, glaring at her thoughts.
The dining-room was full of children and their parents, having breakfast. Grown-ups said 'Good morning' to mummy as she passed, and all of them watched her. Some were frowning. The waitress looked surprised when she came to their table, but before she could speak, mummy said sharply, 'Mrs Marshall knows we're here.' The kitchen door swung open and shut, open and shut, and Anna saw the waitresses chattering beyond it, gazing towards their table. Mummy saw them too, and Anna felt her growing more tense. They were making her even more dangerous.
The parents had turned away now. Couldn't they see how frightened Anna was? But no – they were parents; they'd think mummy was right whatever she did – grownups always stuck together like that where children were concerned. Anna stared out of the window; she couldn't bear to look at mummy, but because of the fog there was nothing else to look at. The grass looked like an old worn carpet, faded and ragged; the horizon was pressing against the cliff. The fog made her feel trapped, especially when she heard grown-ups saying that these Norfolk fogs could last for days.
She didn't feel like eating breakfast. Her hands flinched from the hot plate as she cut her bacon into pieces, smaller and smaller. Eventually she put a piece into her mouth, but it wouldn't go down. When mummy reached over to push the plate closer to her, Anna was afraid she meant to burn her with it. 'Eat up, Anna. You want more than that,' the stranger who was pretending to be mummy said. All the grown-ups must believe she was who she sounded like. They'd trapped Anna even more than the fog had.