Cath Staincliffe - Blink of an Eye

‘You’re upset,’ she says. As though this is an aberration. The cheek of it! I laugh aloud.

‘For fuck’s sake-’

‘Naomi, I’m sorry. Really, I am sorry.’ At last she looks in my eyes, but hers are guarded.

I don’t say anything else. It feels like too little, too late.

I get up and go upstairs, and soon afterwards I hear the door go as she leaves.

Carmel

Although there was a huge relief once the charges against Naomi were dropped, like someone cutting ropes that had bound us, allowing us to breathe again, there was still a massive question mark hanging over Alex. The police were continuing their investigation; both Naomi and I were interviewed, and Naomi was told she would likely be called as a witness if it went to court. Her amnesia persisted but she could still tell them about the conversation where Alex had all but admitted to the deception. All we could do was try and carry on while we waited for news.

Don rang Naomi one lunchtime as she was filling in a job application form.

I heard the anxiety in her voice as she answered the call, then she listened, looking at me now and again. The scar on her cheek was still vivid but a little less puckered. She was suffering from an ear infection and taking high-dose antibiotics to prevent any further infection.

‘Oh no!’ she said, then, ‘When?’ She listened. ‘Monica, really? What with? Right. Thanks for letting me know. Yes. Bye.’ She put her phone down. ‘Alex has been charged,’ she said. ‘He pleaded not guilty at the magistrates’ court. And they’ve charged Monica with attempting to pervert the course of justice.’ She raised her face to the ceiling, shook her head. ‘I just want it to be over.’

If they’d pleaded guilty, it would have been. ‘It’ll be Monica,’ I said. ‘Bet you anything she’ll keep fighting till the bitter end.’

‘How can she keep lying like that?’ Naomi asked.

‘Probably convinced herself it’s true. Don said she did go to the gym, they’ve records that prove she was there – all she had to do was invent passing you, seeing you at the wheel. If she says it often enough, fervently enough, she’ll come to believe it.’

‘And him,’ Naomi said, her face furrowed with distress. ‘After all that happened, I thought he might have the guts…’ She broke off, shaking her fists by her head in frustration.

Naomi

I try not to think about Alex too much – it still takes my breath away, it hurts so deep. I talk about it with the therapist, going over and over it. I weep buckets for the little girl and for myself. For Alex even, and losing him. And sometimes the rage comes, clean and cold and sharp as ice. But I am not going to prison. I’m a little stronger every day.

It is another four months before we get to trial. Late January, eight months after the accident. I’m not allowed in court until I’ve given my evidence. I wait in a special room for witnesses with Alice and Larry from Birmingham. The solicitor for the prosecution says it’ll be towards the end of the prosecution case before I’m called. I will be talking about two things – the fact that we always decided who would drive and stuck to it, and what Alex said the last time I saw him at their house.

Mum and Dad and Suzanne will be there in the court, but they are not supposed to tell me anything about the case. A couple of weeks after her ‘apology’, Suzanne came round with Ollie on her way back from work. She was restless and went on about her trainee like he was a right dork, and she didn’t want any pasta, probably because it was dried not freshly made, for fuck’s sake, and might poison her.

Ollie was cranky and I didn’t know why she hadn’t gone straight home. I was the only one there.

She went to the loo and Ollie cried. Real tears, and his bottom lip was trembling like the world was ending, so I picked him up and sang to him, ‘Daisy, Daisy’, and he was quiet enough, then he grabbed my earring, which was agony, and I swore just as Suzanne came back in.

‘Naomi.’

‘Yes?’ I prepared for a lecture about bad language and setting examples. And she said, ‘How are you?’

Was it a trick question? ‘Not bad.’

Ollie gurgled and patted my nose. ‘Ow,’ I said, but it didn’t hurt.

She nodded. ‘Your hair’s nice,’ she said.

Good God, I thought, we’ll be talking about the weather next. ‘I’m going out soon,’ I said, dropping a big hint. I blew a raspberry on Ollie’s cheek and he chortled and patted me again. Suzanne hadn’t moved. ‘I need to go and get ready,’ I added.

‘Jonty’s left me,’ she said, quick and quiet, her chin wobbling.

‘What?’ She did not just say that!

‘He’s been sleeping with his production assistant. All the way through the pregnancy and since. Shrewsbury, Belfast, Aberdeen.’ Suzanne was shivering.

Fuck me! ‘Oh, Suzanne.’

‘I don’t know what we’ll do. Probably have to sell the house, and we’ll lose money on that. Won’t be able to afford the nursery.’

‘Oh God.’ I jiggled Ollie on to the other hip, and got Suzanne to sit down while I made her a cup of tea.

‘How did you find out?’ I sat down opposite her.

‘He told me – yesterday. Said he had something important to talk about. I thought it was going to be a new commission at work, maybe going abroad…’ She couldn’t continue. Her nose went red. She gave a big sigh.

Ollie had fallen asleep on my lap. He was amazingly heavy. I stroked his head. I didn’t know what to say.

‘If I can’t find child care, then my job…’ She shook her head.

‘People manage,’ I told her. ‘Childminders are cheaper, aren’t they, must be cheaper than where you’ve got him?’ He was at a really swanky nursery.

Ollie gave a little start in my arms and relaxed. Then it came to me. ‘I could look after him. Unless you’re worried I’ll be a bad influence.’ I couldn’t resist the dig.

She looked at me; hard to tell if she was intrigued or appalled.

‘I’m not having much luck with interviews,’ I said, ‘and I need to work. You’d have to pay me the going rate.’

She nodded her head. ‘I think it could work,’ she said slowly. ‘We’d have to agree some standards, and you’d have to pay your own National Insurance, have a contract and everything.’

Only Suzanne. ‘Of course. I’m so sorry, Jonty must be off his head, everything he’s throwing away. The bastard.’

I didn’t intend to build bridges with Suzanne; a stepping stone or two was more than enough. But I didn’t want to miss out on being an auntie, and minding Ollie would be a way of seeing him, and earning some money, without having to spend much time with her. Keeping a reasonable distance is the only way I know to protect myself from the unhealthy pattern of our relationship.

And I wanted to keep getting better. That week the therapist had asked me if I’d been thinking about the future at all. And I had. For the first time without total dread or fear, wondering what I might do next. Little things like arrange a break away or look for some new clothes.

And I’ve been minding Ollie ever since.

Now, waiting with the other witnesses, I can feel the pressure building up inside and the echoes of the worst times when I was falling apart. I try to breathe slowly and deeply, and distract myself. I try to connect, chat to Alice and Larry; again we mustn’t discuss the trial, so we end up talking about who we like on X Factor or The Voice and Alice talks about the sheep she has on the farm.

We’re all nervous, it’s not just me. Alice keeps messing with her hair and she laughs a lot even at things that aren’t the least bit funny, and Larry goes out for a cigarette every five minutes.