‘Exactly,’ I said, in a jovial voice, trying to cheer her up. ‘And … we can protect each other, can’t we? Have each other’s backs?’
She nodded, her eyes still on mine. Then she stubbed out her cigarette against the sink and walked over to where I was standing by the back door. Her face was so close to mine that for a crazy moment I wondered if she was going to kiss me. But instead she moved a lock of hair away from my face. ‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘I feel the same. Ask no questions, tell no lies.’
I could feel heat rising up my neck to my face. Then she took a step back, clearing her throat, and walked towards the cooker. ‘You’re so kind, Rose,’ she said, with her back to me, her shoulders hunched. I could see the outline of her spine through her jumper. ‘If I’d met you years ago things could be very different now.’
I went over to her and gently placed my hand on her shoulder. ‘At least we’ve found each other now,’ I said. ‘No man can ever hurt us again.’
If only that were true.
The next morning I dropped you off at the little church playschool. You were wearing your favourite yellow wellies and the pink and red bobble hat I’d knitted for you. It was a frosty morning, ice coating the pavements, and we had to step carefully so as not to slip. The sky was dull and colourless. I nodded a hello to other parents clutching the hands of their little ones as we made our way across the village square. Parents I’d never bothered to get to know. When we reached the market cross you had to run up and down the steps, like you did every time you saw it. When you got to the top you spun around, as though you were on a medieval stage. ‘Where’s Daffy?’ you said, as I helped you down the steps, worried you’d slip. You were only two and a half and some words were difficult for you to say. Daffy, like the duck. After you incorrectly pronounced her name the first time it just stuck. ‘Daffy pick me up?’
I loved that you had taken to Daphne but I wasn’t sure I trusted her enough yet to collect you from playschool. She wouldn’t know who to look out for. If he came for us. I’d told myself regularly over the last three years that he’d never find us. How would he know where to look? But that still didn’t stop me worrying. He was a clever man. A rich man. He would no doubt have his ways, his spies. I could never relax, never stop looking over my shoulder.
‘Maybe one day, honey, but not yet, okay? And she’ll be at work anyway.’
Your face fell until you saw your teacher, Miss Tilling, and then you ran over to her, your dark curls – so like his – flying out behind you.
I made sure Miss Tilling had ushered you inside the classroom, like I did every morning before leaving. When I was satisfied that you were safe I walked away, stopping at Melissa’s café to get a hot chocolate. Melissa seemed very interested in Daphne and wanted to know all about her. I was careful not to say too much. Melissa was one of the biggest gossips in Beggars Nook, and if Daphne was trying to keep a low profile I owed it to her to be discreet.
Melissa looked bored when she realized she wasn’t going to get any interesting titbit from me, turning away to serve the next customer. As I stepped out of the shop I bumped into Joel.
Joel who, before now, had been my saviour. A reassuring presence. The first man in a long while I had trusted. Who, after that first time we met, had always looked out for me, asked if I needed anything. When the snow came the year before, he knocked on the door and offered to clear my driveway. He was the one I called when I had a burst pipe. I’d let him into my small life. But when I imagined him feeling up Daphne and making her life hell when she turned him down, it made my skin crawl.
I was about to walk past him without speaking but he stopped me. ‘Hey, Rose. I haven’t seen you much lately, how are you doing?’
I’d noticed since Daphne moved in that he hadn’t been over to offer any help or even to see how I was. A guilty conscience, I decided.
‘I’m fine,’ I replied curtly.