Blink(6)

Evie was five years old, and perfectly capable of taking herself to the loo. But I swallowed down my irritation. They would only both ignore me if I tried to intervene.

When they left the room, I sat down in one of the fold-up deckchairs we were making do with until the furniture arrived. I looked over at the boxes in the corner again but I didn’t make a move to unpack them.

I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to all the good times we’d had in the old house, the place in which Andrew and I had poured all our future hopes and dreams, and which was now another family’s home.

Not for the first time, I felt an overwhelming urge to run.

Run away from Mum, away from the memory of Andrew and, today, even run away from Evie. Just for a short while.

Regret corkscrewed into my chest. What fools Andrew and I had been, bounding ahead in life like hapless puppies, never thinking to watch out for the tripwire.

I felt the familiar beginnings of a panic attack building inside with no way of assuaging it. I pulled my handbag towards me and peered inside, just to reassure myself everything was still in there, tucked out of sight.

I kept trying to remind myself that I did have choices. Like, I could admit everything to Mum right now and put things right before it all got out of hand.

Yet the thought of asking for help felt like a knot of eels stirring in my stomach.

Deep down, I knew I couldn’t do it. Not yet.

More importantly, it would feel like I was overreacting. It wasn’t as if things were totally out of control, I was simply relying on a temporary solution for a short time. A crutch.

I knew what I was doing and I promised myself I wouldn’t let it slide too far.

I forced myself over to the corner of the room and half-heartedly pulled open the torn cardboard flaps of the box nearest to me. I sighed when I saw the contents: memorabilia of life as it used to be.

Family photographs taken on holiday, at Christmas, a celebratory meal out. A favourite painting of the three of us that Evie had done at nursery. Elaborate greetings cards: To Daddy, To My Loving Husband, To My Darling Wife.

I hadn’t been able to leave all this stuff behind, despite knowing there was a chronic lack of space in the new house. Part of me still needed it, to look at. So I could remember who we used to be. It was a way to keep hold of the frayed edges of what used to be my life.

I bit down hard on my tongue to bring me to my senses. I had to at least attempt to put an optimistic spin on things. This house signified a new start for me and for Evie, it was our new beginning. Like Mum said, I just had to give it all a chance to come right.

‘Stay positive and really try to believe it,’ I said out loud to myself. ‘Everything will work out for the best.’ But the words rattled empty and lost in the echoing space that surrounded me.

When Mum and Evie came back downstairs, we sat drinking tea. Things felt calmer, more settled.

Until there was a sharp rap on the door.

Mum and I looked at each other in surprise but Evie didn’t even look up, so absorbed was she in assembling her coloured bricks.

‘Do you want me to get it?’ Mum said.

‘No, I’ll go.’ I hauled myself up and smoothed the escaped wisps of my hurriedly scraped-back pony tail.

I could see right away there was no shadow cast by a caller standing at the opaque glass but I opened the door and prepared myself to smile at the delivery man or postman or whoever it might be that would appear.

But there was nobody there.

I looked down. A beautiful arrangement of lilies sat on the doorstep, one of those expensive, handtied bouquets where the water was self-contained in the big plastic bubble at the bottom. The whole thing was set in a glossy black bag, complete with carry handles.

I stepped over the flowers and out onto the grass, looking up and down the street, but no one appeared to be around.

I picked up the arrangement by the handles but it felt a little unstable, so I held it by the stylish black casing and carried it back inside.

‘Look what I found on the doorstep,’ I said with a grin, walking into the lounge.

‘Ooh, pretty flowers.’ Evie jumped up. ‘Who sended them, Mummy?’

‘I don’t know who sent them yet.’ I smiled. I set the bouquet down on the floor. ‘Have a scout around in the flowers, Evie, see if you can find the little message envelope.’

Mum raised her eyebrow. ‘Any idea who they’re from?’

‘Not a clue.’ I watched as Evie carefully parted the blooms, looking for the sender’s message. ‘Although I did send our new contact details out to my entire address book, so might be any one of them.’

‘Well, I can tell you now, that display won’t have been cheap,’ Mum remarked. ‘Those Stargazer lilies are—’

Mum was cut short by Evie’s blood-freezing scream.

‘Evie, what is it?’ I jumped up and ran over to her.

She began slapping her hands together and whimpering and I saw an insect fly up towards the ceiling. I glanced down at the flowers as a wasp emerged. Then another. And another – all heading for Evie’s pale, exposed arms and hands.

‘Wasps!’ I screamed, launching myself at my daughter and using my own arms to cover her head and body. ‘They’re in the bouquet!’

Evie’s screams and Mum’s wailing masked the pain I could feel pinching at my arms and shoulders. I smashed my arm to the side to push away the flowers and the whole thing toppled over.