I moved closer to her. Hoping she would say everything I felt.
‘You could never tell me anything that would ruin our friendship,’ I said softly.
She took my hand and moved towards me so that our faces were mere inches apart. She brushed the hair tenderly away from my face. I leant towards her, my heart fluttering as her lips brushed mine and she pulled me close, kissing me deeply. She took my hand and led me upstairs to her bedroom where I stayed until the early hours of the morning, creeping back into my own bed so that you wouldn’t be alarmed when you came looking for me when you woke up.
I wish I’d drunk in every wonderful moment of that day, scrutinized each second under a magnifying glass: Daphne’s throaty laugh, your squeals of delight, the way the sun bounced off the little foiled eggs, the smell of chocolate and pollen on the breeze. I’d give anything to relive that day on a loop, over and over again.
Because the next day everything changed.
He arrived on Monday evening, just as I was putting you to bed.
I could hear voices in the hallway but they were muffled, although I was sure one of the voices was male. My heart began to beat faster. We never had callers. I finished tucking you up and closed your bedroom door behind me, sweat pooling under my armpits at the thought of who could be at the front door. Was it the man Daphne was so afraid of? Had he found us?
I rushed downstairs, different scenarios playing out in my head. But Daphne wasn’t with anyone, she was alone.
‘Who was that?’ I asked quietly, not wanting to scare you. ‘I heard you talking to someone.’
She shook her head and walked into the living room. I followed. She stood in the middle of the room, wrapping her arms around herself. Her face was so pale she looked as if she might faint. ‘It’s him,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, God, Rose, he’s found me. He’s found me …’
Coldness washed over me. ‘Where … where is he now?’
‘He’s gone around the side. To the garden. I said I’d talk to him there. I didn’t know what to do.’
‘We need to call the police.’ I headed for the orange phone by the sofa. But she stopped me before I could reach it.
‘We can’t. Don’t you see? That will make no difference. It never has before. They didn’t help me then. Why would they now?’
I hung my head.
How I wished I had just called the police. Then maybe none of this would have happened. Fear. It makes you do strange things. It clouds the brain. And I had been so scared for so long. You have to believe me on that.
Daphne put her hand on my shoulder. ‘I need to talk to him, try to convince him to leave me alone. I don’t know if it’ll work.’ She let out a small sob. ‘I’m scared, Rose. He … he’s not a nice man.’
Her words conjured up images of your father, and the things he did to me. What would I do if he decided to turn up here, unannounced, like this Neil?
I pulled Daphne into my arms, kissing the top of her head. ‘It’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you,’ I said fiercely. ‘We’ll sort this out together. Come on.’ I pulled away from her and took her hand, leading her into the kitchen. I could see a man standing in the garden, smoking. I didn’t think about my safety, or even, I’m ashamed to admit, yours in that moment. I told myself Neil wasn’t interested in us. It was Daphne he wanted. Daphne he had been looking for.
I opened the back door and Daphne stepped in front of me and out onto the patio.
‘Hello, Jean,’ he said to her. Light spilled from the kitchen, illuminating his face. He was very fair with translucent eyelashes. He had on a black Harrington jacket with a white T-shirt underneath and jeans. He smelt of stale alcohol.
Jean?