Watching Over You (4 page)

Chapter Four

Moving out of the home Charley had shared with Dan was every bit as harrowing as she had expected. With each room she emptied, memories of him came flooding into her mind: Dan spending an age cooking a meal in the kitchen, only for the plates to slide off the tray and onto the floor as he brought them through to the dining room; Dan trying to negotiate the stairs with crutches when he’d torn the ligaments in his knee, giving up and bumping up and down on his bottom; Dan ripping presents open on
Christmas
morning like an excited child in the living room; and the bedroom…that made her heart ache the most.

Once her belongings had been removed, Charley took one final walk around the house, tears pouring down her face. But driving away – the removal van in front and her parents in their car behind – she felt at ease with herself. She couldn’t turn the clock back, nor should she hang on to the past anymore. Even though it would be hard to let go of the old life, she had to think of the new.

Arriving in Warwick Avenue had felt just as strange. As she’d opened the door to the flat, she recalled how excited she and Dan had been to get the keys to the old house twelve years before. He’d carried her over the threshold, dumping her unceremoniously on the hall carpet complaining that she was too heavy, only to then roll around the floor with her. Tears welled in her eyes. She sniffed, blinking them away quickly.

If her dad noticed her watery eyes, he didn’t say as he came through with the first of many boxes. But he did take time to smile at her. ‘You’ll be fine here, petal,’ he said. ‘Settled in no time. It’s a beautiful place.’

From her vantage point behind the curtains at her window, Ella had watched Charley go up and down the front steps for most of the day. It had been fun, stopping the monotony of the long, empty hours stretching out before her. Ella didn’t go to work – not that she would ever be capable of holding down a job, even if she did have one. Luckily she was able to manage on the money her parents had left her when they died in the accident. Besides, who would have her anyway, with her records for shoplifting and prostitution?

Once Charley was settled, she couldn’t wait to start learning about her new neighbour, finding out where she worked and where she liked to visit. It would be great to spend some time with her. They would become firm friends, she was sure. Not like Susa
n Reil
ly, her last tenant, who had moved out as quickly as she’d moved in. Three weeks and two days, to be precise. Ella was so annoyed she’d wasted time on her. It had been obvious from the beginning that she wasn’t going to be friend material.

She looked down again. Ella could see the older couple were Charley’s parents. Charley was the image of her mother, as well as having the eyes of her father. Ella often wondered if she looked like either of her parents. She’d had a good childhood – loving mum and dad, enough money for her and her younger sister to be quite spoilt. Every once in a while, she’d reminisce about her younger years. A day trip out, a photograph being taken, borrowing lots of books from the library. Mum taking her to the hairdresser’s for the first time. Out for a drive with Dad in his new car.

Sadly, Ella’s memories of them were vague now. Often she’d embellish them, trying to bring them back to life again. She wondered if they too would have helped her to move properties if they were still alive. She hoped they would have supported her like Charley’s parents were doing.

While she clocked Charley’s curves, Ella wondered why there weren’t more people helping her to move. Why wasn’t she
married
with a husband and a couple of kids? Or at least if the husband had left, where were the kids? On the rent agreement she
’d had d
rawn up, Charley had put her date of birth as Augu
st 197
7, which made her just thirty-six – one year older than she was. It didn’t seem right that she’d be alone all that time. She made a mental note to find out her story, and then see if she could befriend her quickly. Charley was such a beautiful woman; she deserved a friend li
ke her.

Who are you trying to kid?

Ella covered her ears, trying to block out the voice inside her head. She’d had a quiet day; she didn’t want to go out tonight. She was tired, willing to make her own entertainment if necessary.

Are you listening to me? You’re pathetic. You think anyone would want to be your friend?

‘Leave me alone.’

You’ll always be alone, stupid. She won’t want to know you either. You’re a fool to think otherwise.

Ella shook her head, her left eye twitching a few times. Focussing on something else, anything to stop the taunts, she could see nosy Jean sitting in her window across the road. She’d been watching for most of the day too. Ella failed to see the fun in doing it all day, every day. Weren’t things the same once you’d seen them for a week or so? Humans were creatures of habits, apart from her, of course. Ella hadn’t got a set routine to learn. She did what she wanted when she wanted – or rather when Cassandra wanted. Couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be tied to one place; hoped she’d never get to the age where all she did was sit and stare into a world she was no longer part of. Even though her life was shit, she had a life.

Although she’d grown up in the city, Ella hadn’t lived in one area for longer than a few years before she’d been on the move again. Often she’d been kicked out of somewhere, literally, during her earlier days. But maybe she’d settle this time. Her life was about to get better as soon as she got to know Charley anyway. She would be her new friend and they would go out for drinks together, go shopping together, to the movies. They’d have a housewarming party for the two of them, eat pizza and ice cream until they were sick, watch chick flicks and go gooey-eyed over the gorgeous men. They’d look out for one another, cry on each other’s shoulders, borrow each other’s clothes, go –

She won’t want to do any of that with you! You’re not worth spending time with.

As her belongings had been moved in, a sense of peace came over Charley. The flat was just as she remembered it, and everything fit as planned. Six hours later, once her parents and the removal men had left her to finish off, Charley took one of the few remaining boxes through from the hallway into the living room. To the sounds of Adele singing softly, she sat down to empty it.

Inside, she searched for her most treasured possession, rummaging around until she came to a parcel covered in tissue paper. She unwrapped it carefully to reveal a six-inch glass cube, with a photo of Dan on each side. He’d bought it for her because he thought it was unusual. Little did he realise how sentimental it would become.

Charley turned it around in her hands. The first photo she came to was one they’d had taken on a city break in London. Dan had been goofing about in the Tower of London, trying to make her laugh when everyone around her was quietly admiring the Crown Jewels. The one next to it was of the two of them dressed up for a friend’s wedding. Another showed Dan on his back in the snow, his arms and legs wide, making a snow angel.

A lone tear dropped onto the glass. Charley wiped it away quickly before any more joined it.

Ella came away from the window when she realised there was
nothing
more to see.

She won’t want to know you anyway. Who would want you as a friend?

She threw herself down onto the settee and covered her head with a cushion. Why wouldn’t she leave her alone? She was always going on at her. Nag, nag, nag. Never a rest.

Useless. Useless. USELESS!

‘Leave me alone!’

You don’t deserve a friend.

Ella sat up suddenly. She was stronger than this; no one was going to stop her from getting what she wanted.

I’m going to stop you!

‘No, you’re not.’ She stood up tall and decided to go downstairs and check things out a little more. Charley was going to be
her
friend – and nothing at all to do with Cassandra.

When I came out of hospital, I was taken to a children’s home. It wasn’t near to where I lived before so I knew no one and felt so alone. I had to share a room with a girl called Billie; she was twelve. I was wary about Billie from the start. Don’t you just get a feeling when someone doesn’t like you? I mean, she was great when anyone else was there but when we were alone, she’d give me hell. I was the little girl who got in her way. I was the one everyone felt sorry for due to my circumstances. And Billie didn’t like it, now, did she?

Billie was a bully. She was a big girl and used to thump me.
I co
uldn’t stand up to her. Billie told all the other kids at the home not to talk to me. No one wanted to be my friend. I was never allowed to join in. I never fitted in anywhere, for the rest of my life after that.

Kids used to come and go in the home. Some were fostered out; some were adopted. I missed my family so much and every night,
I cri
ed myself to sleep – no matter how many times Billie laid into me for making a noise. Funny how bruises become invisible, isn’t it? Or don’t people want to see them? I must have been covered in the bloody things. Surely everyone didn’t think I was a walking disaster all the time?

No one really cared enough to ask questions, I suppose. I was left to rot – and be beaten on a daily basis. If I fought back, I got back twice as much. All the kids were scared of Billie. She used to make them hit me too, so that she wouldn’t get into trouble. When a couple are holding your arms while another is thumping you in the stomach or pulling your hair until you’re sure your neck will snap, you can’t do anything about it.

When we were with other people, Billie would push me into things so that I would look clumsy. She’d thump me in the back or in the leg, deadening it when no one was looking. No one believed me when I said they weren’t accidents so, after a while, I didn’t tell anyone that I was being bullied. And if I did say anything, Billie accused me of lying, called me a troublemaker, and I was sent to my room until I could behave. Billie said I needed to get used to the fact that I was there to stay and that no evil little bitch was going to spoil her fun.

And all the while everyone believed her. How could they? How could the system let a child down so? I was made out to be the naughty one. I was the one who wet the bed. Did I? I can’t remember that. All I can remember is her tipping cold water over me to wake me up and then accusing me of pissing myself. I never pissed myself. Billie made me cry so much I was permanently red-eyed. She was evil. And that’s what she made me. Evil, like her.

And another thing, while I’m thinking about it, why didn’t anyone question those bruises? We hear of the children that have slipped through the net. We see their faces splashed across the news, those who’ve had despicable things done to them at the hands of responsible adults. Just like me.