It was only one note, but it was as loud as the telephone ringing. She froze, clinging to the receiver, waiting for mummy's eyes to open and see what she'd been trying to do. But mummy's eyes were still closed – or were they open just a slit, watching to see what she'd do next? She couldn't replace the receiver in case the phone rang, and yet she couldn't bring it toward her face either. It took forever, but at last she managed to persuade herself that mummy couldn't see her after all.
She inched the receiver towards her and pressed it against her ear, slipping under the sheets to hide from mummy. Then, immediately, she shoved herself up again, terrified of not being able to see what mummy was doing, and of pulling the phone off the bedside table. She held her breath and waited. Gail would answer in a moment. Anna didn't know Granny Knight's number, but Gail would. If she didn't, she could look it up.
She pulled her pyjama away from her armpit with her free hand and pressed her legs together for fear of wetting the bed. Could she keep her voice low enough for mummy not to hear and still manage to be heard by Gail? Her heart was thumping so loud that she was afraid it would wake mummy. 'Hello,' she whispered; she could hardly hear herself. Perhaps her voice was so tiny because she'd realized at last that there was nobody at the switchboard.
There was a number you could dial if you needed someone in the night, the number of one of the rooms, but Anna couldn't think what it was. Wasn't it on a notice somewhere in the room? Yes, of course: the notice was on the inside of the door – the door against which mummy was sitting. The notice was hidden behind her chair. Anna let out a loud sobbing sigh. She didn't care if mummy heard now.
Mummy had, in her sleep. She stirred, and her handbag slid off her knees, catching its strap on the arm of the chair and dangling there. Mummy's hands groped blindly about for it. Anna was praying frantically – she did care if mummy woke after all; please don't let her wake, please don't let her see Anna with the phone… Mummy's nails seemed to be searching wakefully for something to claw, her eyes looked as if they were about to open. At last her hands were still, and the rest of her.
Anna laid the receiver on top of the Bible, as gently as she could. She didn't dare replace it in case the phone rang again and woke mummy before she could hide under the sheets. She drew in her arm and lay there, propped up on the pillow. She was shivering again, afraid of what she'd realized she could do, what the sight of mummy's handbag on the arm of the chair was telling her she could do. Mummy's address book was in there. Granny Knight's phone number was.
There might just as well have been a blazing fire between her and that little book. How could Anna try to get it when it would mean going close to mummy, within reach of her nails? But equally, how could she lie there, knowing that the phone number was there, and that all she had to do was creep over and get it? She was sobbing again, stuffing the bedclothes into her mouth. She wanted to scream, wake mummy and get it all over with.
Before she knew it, she was slipping out of bed. She didn't want to, but she couldn't stop herself. She put first one bare foot on the chilly carpet, and then the other, easing herself off the bed to make sure it didn't creak, holding her breath as if that would help, sobbing inside herself. She was a few inches closer to mummy, and that terrified her. She dropped on all fours, out of sight beside the bed.
Now she couldn't see mummy, couldn't see if she woke. She began to crawl alongside the bed, and found she'd almost forgotten how to crawl. Even before she could see mummy, she was panicking. The coverlet hung down to the floor, so that she couldn't see under the bed, and she felt that something was crouching beyond the far side of the bed, waiting. Was it the man who'd spied on her at home, the man she could never quite see? She crawled hastily to the foot of the bed, and was almost in mummy's reach.
She faltered there, shivering. Her arms and legs felt numb and twisted, her pyjamas were glued to her. She couldn't go on, not now that she was close enough to see mummy's face. Mummy's mouth was drooping open, a cruel curve that showed her glistening teeth. Anna thought it was the most horrible expression she had ever seen. The stranger who pretended to be mummy was made up of teeth and nails; Anna could see nothing else. She couldn't stand up, she couldn't crawl backwards. She would be frozen there until mummy woke.
The thought terrified her so much that she found she was moving. She could only move forward. She was beyond the bed now, but she didn't dare look back to see if anything was crouching by it – she didn't dare take her eyes off mummy's face. Had mummy's breathing changed? Was she awake and waiting for Anna to crawl within reach? Was there a watchful glint behind her eyelashes? Even if there were, Anna couldn't stop herself. Her trembling limbs took her all too quickly to the chair. In a few moments she was squatting beside it on her aching legs, pressing them together, and within reach of mummy's bag.
She stared at it and struggled to reach for it, to be able to crawl away and hide. The bag looked impossibly real, the only real thing in the world, and she was staring at it out of the small dark grubby place. She couldn't just open it – the catch would make too much noise; she had to slide it off the arm of the chair and creep away with it, which meant first edging the strap from under mummy's nails. She couldn't do it, the thought of trying made her sob inside herself. But she had to move, for her legs were aching terribly; if she had to squat much longer, they'd hurt so much that she would stagger to her feet and straight into mummy's arms. The thought sent a shudder through her that almost overbalanced her, and she reached out a trembling hand to lift the strap of the bag. Her teeth were chattering, she couldn't keep them still, even by clenching them until they ached. Perhaps that was why, as Anna grasped the strap and began to slide it gently but shakily along the arm of the chair, mummy opened her eyes.
Forty-six
Mummy's eyes opened, and Anna tried to scream. If she managed to make a sound, she knew she'd scream until everyone in the hotel woke up, until they came to break the door down, to stop mummy before it was too late. But she couldn't scream; she couldn't move at all, not even to relieve the agony in her legs, which in any case she was too terrified to feel. As mummy realized what Anna had been doing, her eyes were growing brighter every second, more and more like a horrible stranger's. Once Anna had seen a rabbit frozen by the headlights of the car; now she knew how it had felt in that pitiless murderous glare.
Mummy's lips opened, baring her teeth. She leaned toward Anna. Could Anna scream now, before those nails seized her? If she waited until they did, it might be too late. But mummy was going to speak, and she couldn't scream while mummy was speaking, even if it was a stranger who was pretending to be mummy. Besides, she was too frightened of what mummy was going to say.
'Well then, you little thief,' mummy said. 'I've caught you, haven't I?'
Anna couldn't speak, she could only squat there, her thighs jerking like a broken wind-up doll. She couldn't make a sound, not when mummy's voice was so gentle. It wasn't that she no longer wanted to – it was that mummy's gentleness was so terrifying that it choked off her scream.
At last the horrible delight faded from mummy's eyes and they grew blank, gazing at Anna as if they were looking at nothing. When she spoke, she sounded almost indifferent. 'Get dressed,' she said. 'We're going now.'
Anna was shivering so much that she could hardly struggle into her clothes. She'd had her chance to scream for help, but now the moment was past; it almost seemed there was no reason to scream now, though she knew there was. All mummy had said was that they were going – she hadn't said anything about going home. Something in her eyes had said they were going somewhere else.