Jacqui Rose - Toxic

Sighing and taking a sip of orange juice out of an Arsenal mug, Bree tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry and too sticky, and her stomach kept alternating between painful cramps and butterflies.

She wasn’t ill, she knew that. Though she wished that was all it was. No, her problem was just down to good old-fashioned nerves. Because today was the day she was supposed to be leaving her husband, Johnny, once and for all.

A sudden wave of nausea rushed over her, forcing her to run to the bathroom and lean over the toilet bowl as the sweet sickly water rushed into her mouth. Starting to shake and praying it wasn’t the start of a panic attack, which she often suffered from. She took a deep breath, terrified at the thought of what she was about to do. A moment later, Bree Dwyer began to vomit.

Flushing the toilet, which was entirely encrusted with Swarovski crystals, Bree rinsed out her mouth, pushing her long blonde hair behind her ears. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, but quickly turned away. Hating what she saw. Hating seeing the look of fear in her green eyes, reminding her of a startled rabbit.

Holding onto the basin, Bree squeezed her eyes shut, took another deep breath before counting down from ten. Okay, she was ready. It was about to begin.

‘Molly! Kieran! Quickly! Come on babies, we got to go.’

A few seconds later, Molly, who’d just turned six and proudly told anybody who’d listen, appeared at the bathroom door, clutching one of her stuffed giraffes.

Her long corkscrew blonde hair tumbled down in waves over her tiny, little shoulders. She spoke, sounding like someone much older than her age.

‘What’s the rush? Where are we going? Are the others coming?’

Bending down to hurriedly button up Molly’s butterfly print blouse properly, Bree shook her head, speaking in a whisper as if there was somebody listening. ‘No, darlin’, they’re not.’

Molly scowled. Her button nose wrinkling up. ‘Why not? I want them to come.’

Nervously, Bree looked around. It seemed like her heart was pounding so hard in her chest, it was just about the only thing she could hear. ‘I know sweetheart, but if they do, then they’ll find out about the surprise.’

Molly’s face suddenly lit up. She called in excitement, ‘Kieran! Kieran! Come on, there’s a surprise.’

Panicked at the volume of her daughter’s voice, Bree gently shushed Molly, putting her finger over her lips. ‘Shhh! We got to try to keep quiet, darlin’. We don’t want anyone hearing us, do we?’

Smiling and kissing Molly on her forehead, Bree tried to push down the rising panic, attempting to ignore the thought she’d started something she couldn’t finish.

‘Well, what is it? What’s the surprise? Is it for me?’ Kieran Dwyer, although only nine, was the spitting image of his father. Both in temperament and looks. He stood at the bathroom door, grinning widely. He loved surprises.

‘No, sweetheart.’

Kieran folded his arms petulantly, reminding Bree so much of Johnny. ‘Then I ain’t going bleedin’ nowhere. Go on your own.’

Tenderly smoothing down his thick black hair, Bree looked sadly at Kieran. She loved him so much at times it ached, but with each passing day, Kieran was becoming more and more like Johnny. Idolising him and wanting to be just like his father when he ‘grew up’; another reason why she had to get them away before it was too late.

Patiently, Bree spoke, crouching down to Kieran’s height. ‘Okay, I tell you what, how about this. If you come with me now, I’ll buy you any game you want.’

Kieran’s blue eyes darkened as he stared suspiciously at Bree. ‘Any game?’

‘Any. I promise. But we have to go, now .’

‘Why?’

That was enough talk. Grabbing hold of both Kieran’s and Molly’s hands, Bree gently pulled the pair along the hallway. But as they neared the front door, it burst open and a tall figure, silhouetted against the bright sun, stood just inside the hallway.

‘Hello, darlin’. What’s all this then?’

Backing away, Bree clutched the children’s hands tightly as she began to shake.

‘Johnny … I … I …’

High-pitched laughter burst out as he clapped his hands, skipping on the spot. ‘Bree falls for it every time! Funny Bree. Funny Bree.’

Bree’s legs collapsed underneath her. ‘Ryan! You bleedin’ idiot. What you have to go and do that for?’

Ryan shrugged, looking hurt. His face crumpled as he held his head and rocked back and forth on the spot. ‘I found kittens. Nice, nice kittens. Have I done bad? Has Ryan done bad? In trouble with Ma? In trouble with Ma?’

Bree stared at Ryan Dwyer, Johnny’s identical twin brother. She tried to keep her voice even as she smiled at him kindly, trying to alleviate his panic. ‘Shhh, Ryan. It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. I promise. But we have to go. Come on, hurry.’

Molly piped up. ‘We’re going to get a surprise.’

Ryan’s eyes narrowed, looking troubled, his mind trying to comprehend. He stuttered.

‘Does … does … does Johnny know? Got to tell Johnny. We tell Johnny.’

Getting up, with her legs still trembling, Bree spoke soothingly. ‘Well it wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it, Ryan. Look, darlin’, we need to go. Come on Molly, hold my hand.’

Bree only managed to get part way down the stone white path before Ryan, who was dressed as usual in a blue Ralph Lauren tracksuit, stopped.

‘Wait! Need to tell Ma!’

Bree spun round, her face strained with fear. ‘No, Ryan, you don’t need to do that. Please. It’s just our secret. Remember? It will spoil the surprise.’

Ryan turned his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Bree. He rocked on his feet, looking anxious as he played with his hands. ‘No, need to tell Ma. Need to tell Ma. Ma! Ma!’

‘Please, Ryan, no! Don’t!’

‘Ma!’

The pink front door to the next mobile home was opened. ‘What the bleedin’ hell’s all that racket for?’

Ma Dwyer stood in a blue, silk cornflower print dressing gown, tied too tightly around her bulging waistline. She rested her arms on her hips as her grossly obese body wobbled towards Bree and Ryan; the top of her legs sounding noisily as they rubbed and squelched together with sweat.

With egg yolk dried on her chin, Ma Dwyer sniffed, then burped loudly. ‘This better bloody be good Ryan, otherwise I’ll be giving you another brain injury.’

Holding Ryan’s hand, Bree shook her head frantically. Her eyes wide with terror. ‘Ryan, no. Look at me, no!’

‘What she bleedin’ on about? Go on, tell yer ma.’

A moment of hesitation rushed through Ryan’s eyes before Ma Dwyer reached up and whacked her son hard around the head. ‘I’m talking to you, you little shit.’

Ryan rubbed his head, looking so much younger than his thirty years. ‘We shouldn’t tell you. Can’t tell Ma.’

Ma stared at Ryan. Her voice was mean and hard. ‘I’m warning you son, you better tell me, unless of course you want to be in trouble. Is that what you want, Ryan? You want to be in trouble?’

Agitated, Ryan looked down, playing with his hands as he shook his head. ‘No. No.’

‘Then tell me!’

Blurting the words out as quickly as he could, Ryan said, ‘She’s off to get Johnny a surprise. A secret.’

Ma Dwyer grinned nastily. ‘Is she now … Take the kids into the house, Ryan, I want a little word with Bree.’

‘But I want to see the kittens.’

‘I said take the friggin’ kids inside, you dopey muppet!’

Ma Dwyer watched as Ryan skipped into the house with Molly and Kieran, who were giggling happily. She turned coldly to Bree.

‘So now you can tell me all about this surprise, or maybe I should just call Johnny and ask him … Oh, no need … Look … Somebody’s going to be taught a lesson.’