Sarah May - The Missing Marriage

‘For how long?’

‘I didn’t say how long I’d be – and I don’t even have a friend called Ellie.’ Martha shrugged. ‘She doesn’t give a fuck where I am.’

‘Okay – but you’d better bring the bike in with you.’

Anna watched Martha drift round the apartment. ‘Have you finished nosing around?’

‘Almost.’

‘Not the bedroom,’ she called out.

‘I’ve already done the bedroom. I’m in the bathroom.’

The next minute Anna heard the medicine cabinet being opened. She went down the hallway. ‘Martha!’

Martha turned round, smiling. ‘Impressive.’

‘What’s so impressive?’

‘No medication – not even anti-depressants – nothing.’

‘Why would there be?’

Martha ambled back into the living room and went over to the windows, which were streaked with rain again. ‘Mum’s been on and off Lithium for years – now she takes pills to help her sleep – Nytol. D’you have a boyfriend?’

‘No – no, I don’t. Why are you asking?’

Martha was about to say something when Anna’s phone started to ring.

‘Is my daughter with you?’ Laura Deane’s voice said.

Anna hesitated. ‘She is – d’you want to speak to her?’

Martha had turned away from the window and was now staring at her.

‘No – I need her to come home. Can you tell her to do that?’

Anna thought Laura was going to call off then, but she didn’t. ‘What’s she been saying?’

‘Nothing much – she’s just pretty upset.’

‘We had a row.’

Anna was silent.

Laura laughed. ‘I bet she’s been pedalling all sorts of shit about Bryan and me.’

‘No – she’s been fine,’ Anna responded ambivalently, too shocked by Laura’s tone to say anything else, and aware that Martha was watching her intently now.

‘She thinks I’m stupid,’ Laura carried on, ‘telling me she was going to Ellie’s house. I knew exactly where she was going, and she doesn’t have a friend called Ellie. In fact,’ she laughed again, ‘Martha doesn’t have any friends. She just sort of latches onto people until they get sick of her. There was a teacher at school last term she did the same thing to. She had to see the school counsellor after that. There’s something else you should know about Martha – she lies a lot. I mean, she lies compulsively.’

Martha was staring out the window again and had her back turned to Anna.

‘Laura –’

‘I want Martha home – okay? I don’t want you seeing her again and I don’t want you round here either. I want you to stay away from us.’

‘I needed to give a statement.’

‘But you didn’t need to do it here – in my home. You think I’m stupid as well, and you know what? That’s always been your problem, Anna – you underestimate people.’

Laura rang off and Anna placed the phone carefully on the arm of the sofa, staring at it without seeing it.

A few minutes later, still in shock, she said to Martha, ‘That was your mum – she wants you to go home.’

The intimacy of the past hour, which had taken her by surprise, had gone. All she saw was a child she wasn’t responsible for, standing in her apartment looking out of her window – and she didn’t want her there any more.

Martha kept her back turned to Anna. ‘It’s probably a maximum of ten degrees out there today – the sea temperature will be the same. When your deep body temperature drops to thirty-five degrees, you start to feel disorientated and confused. At thirty-four degrees, amnesia sets in. As your temperature drops from thirty-three down to thirty consciousness becomes cloudy until you lose consciousness altogether. If your deep body temperature gets down to twenty-five degrees then you’re probably dead. She hates me.’

‘Your mum? I’m sure she just –’

‘No!’ Martha shouted, adamant. ‘She hates me. This isn’t about her wanting me to go home it’s about control, that’s all. She needs to know she’s got control over me – and you as well. You don’t know her.’

She began hurriedly collecting her stuff, putting on her coat so roughly she ripped it.

‘Let me drive you – it’s pouring out there.’

‘I’m fine.’ Martha pulled the bike aggressively towards her, opening the door to the apartment before Anna had a chance to get there.

‘You’ll get soaked.’

‘It’s only rain.’ She paused at the top of the stairs for a moment, and they stared at each other then looked away.

‘Do you want to know what she was doing before I came over here today?’ Martha said. ‘She was sitting on one of the barstools in the kitchen reading a holiday brochure. I mean, she’s no great reader. That brochure – any brochure – is pretty much about her limit, and she’s working hard at it. When I see her this morning, reading her brochure, I say, “You’re not thinking of going on holiday are you?” and she says, “We’ll see.” And I say, “But, dad –” thinking, I really have got a point, and she just says, “Piss off.”’

Martha was as sullen again now as she’d been standing beside Bryan yesterday morning, in her riding clothes.

Anna was aware that she was waiting for her to say something, and at last said quietly, ‘I don’t think she’s all that keen on you coming over here.’

‘Fuck that. Fuck her.’

They carried the bike awkwardly down the stairs together.

‘You know what I think?’ Martha said, wheeling the bike out into the rain. ‘I think she pushed him over the edge, and that’s why he’s gone.’

‘Gone?’

‘He’s gone,’ Martha said again.

‘Which is different to disappearing?’

‘Completely.’

Anna stared out through the open front door at the Harbourmaster’s office – a nondescript brick building with woodwork painted a depressing shade of blue – thinking.

After Martha had gone, she went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed, shutting her eyes, but a few minutes later was up again, looking for the running shoes she’d kicked off earlier. Then her phone started ringing.

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