The Middle Child (11 page)

    
"Shut the fuck up.  The fact that you knew I’d beat you didn’t stop you from doing whatever the hell you liked.  You were happy to take the shit for it."

     Alex dared not move a muscle as she saw a veil come down over her mother’s face.  And she was right, Alex realised.  She had known that she was going to get a beating for her actions and she’d taken the risk.

     Inevitably, the blows began to land.  There was a split lip, a black eye, the crunch of a rib cracking.  There were slaps and a broken little finger.

     Alex felt every punch, kick and slap as it rained down.  The pain of what she’d done haunted her as the final blow landed on Catherine’s head and she crumpled to the ground.

     "What about your blame, Alex?  Where was your concern for your sister when you ran away?" Catherine said, jolting her back to the present.

     Alex turned away, sickness rolling around her stomach. 
"Look, we both failed her so let’s leave it at that.  Just don’t tell me what to do, Catherine.  You no longer have that right."

    
"Here we are," Beth said, brining a cheap shelled jewellery box into the room.  She opened the lid and pulled out a simple string of pearls, yellow in their cheapness.  "I thought these would bring out the slenderness of your neck, Catherine.  You always did have a wonderful, regal posture."  Catherine touched the beads and said nothing.

    
"And these ear-rings would bring out the beauty of your eyes, Alex."

     Alex wasn’t even looking at the ear-rings.  Her gaze was fixed on the pearls.  A single tear fell from Catherine’s eyes onto the beads and Alex knew they were sharing the same memory.

     "I dressed you up in all this stuff," Catherine whispered.  "I put all mother’s jewellery on you and painted your face," she said, without taking her eyes from the item in her hand.

    
"The lipstick was cherry red," Alex said, recalling the day she’d sat on Catherine’s bed, being painted and dressed up.  "You got a chiffon scarf and wrapped it around my waist.  You said I looked like a movie star."  The words caught in her throat as she remembered the two of them laughing and prancing around the room while Beth sat on the other bed, telling them to stop before mother came home.

    
"We were so close, the three of us," Catherine murmured.

    
"No, just you two," Beth offered gently.

    
"Don’t be silly," Catherine said, wiping her eyes and then reaching for Beth’s hand.

    
"It’s okay," Beth said, patting Catherine’s hand.  "I didn’t mind.  I was just happy to see you two having fun.  It made me laugh."

     Alex heard a wistfulness in Beth’s voice and realised that she was right.  Beth had always kept herself slightly on the outside.

     "Dinner should be ready," Beth said, going to the kitchen.

     Catherine said something about needing some air and avoided Alex’s eyes as she left the room.  Alex fought back the tears that threatened her.  She didn’t want them or what they represented.  Other memories came back to haunt her and every single one involved Catherine.  Catherine reading her stories, Catherine tickling her on the bed.  Catherine making her laugh.  Catherine holding her while she ran from the monsters in her nightmares.

     She wiped her eyes unsure what to do with the memories that were assaulting her mind.  She wanted to slope away to a dark room and re-claim her anger.  She wanted to disappear beneath the safety of her rage.  The accusation of the day that Catherine left them.

     The tears began to subside and the rage returned to niggle away at her belly.  She would never forgive Catherine for that.

     Beth’s voice reached her from the kitchen.  She blindly reacted to the instruction that dinner was ready.  Every instinct inside begged her to run away and reach the safety of the train that would return her to the anonymity of her life in Birmingham.  Yet, she couldn’t hurt Beth.  She’d done enough of that over the years and Beth didn’t deserve her bad manners. 

     Poor sweet Beth who had always been the cautious one, the timid one permanently terrified that they’d get into trouble.  Poor sweet Beth who had suffered far worse than either of them.  Who even now after so much of her life had been taken away only wanted to give to her sisters.  For that she could manage one lunch.

     The small table in the kitchen was cramped with the five of them.  Alex smiled at Beth and thanked her for going to so much effort.  She paused as she looked at the plate before her.  It could have landed from a time machine.  The pork was fatty and a sickly shade of grey.  Large, boiled potatoes struggled to stay cohesive after an hour in the pan and a green mushy mass represented two different vegetables that were impossible to detect, name or separate.

     Alex sprinkled salt onto the food in an effort to disguise the taste. 

     The meal started in silence and as Alex took her first bite she realised that there was very little warmth between Catherine and her daughters.

    
"Jess, stop that," Catherine warned, as Jess kicked her beneath the table from the opposite end.

     Alex watched Jess’s pleasure in getting a reaction from her mother.  Lucy nudged her sister and Alex wondered if the irony of the relationship between her daughters was lost on her.  Jess kicked again and laughed out loud.

     "Jess, I won’t tell you gain," Catherine said, without looking up.

     Alex watched the exchange with interest.  She noted that Catherine had not exchanged one warm word with either of her children since she had walked into the house.

     Alex saw the defiance rising in Jess’s eyes and wondered if Catherine had any idea of how desperate this child was for attention.

     Jess started rocking on the chair which caused the table to shudder.

     "You’ll know about it if that juice goes over, young lady," Catherine warned.

     With one almighty effort, the child kicked the table and sent both beakers of juice crashing down.  Purple liquid spread and soaked into the table cloth.  With lightening speed, Catherine was on her feet and around the other side of the table.

     She yanked Jess from behind the table and stood the child before her.  "You’ve tested me and pushed me all day.  You’ve been expecting this, haven’t you?" Catherine screamed as she raised her hand.

     Beth whimpered and Alex looked on in shock as Catherine hesitated, her hand in the air.  The sound of the slap rendered them all dumb.  Beth clasped her hand to her mouth in horror. 

     Alex jumped to her feet and grabbed the offending hand.

    
"Catherine," she said, turning her sister to face her.  "Do you even realise that you just slapped the wrong child?"

Chapter 11 – Catherine

     Catherine sat in the cover of darkness.  The scene at Beth’s still circling in her mind.  The rage inside, so strong that it had consumed her, had frightened her also.  And not just her.  She felt sick as she remembered the look on the faces of her sisters and her children

     Tim’s key turned in the door.  Catherine pulled her coat tightly around her.  He called out gently and she asked him to leave the light off.  He dropped his gym bag and sat beside her on the sofa.

    
"Sweetheart, what’s wrong?"

     Catherine had sat in the dark for two hours trying to find the words and still they eluded her.

     "Where are the girls?"

    
"They’re in bed," she answered.  "They’re fine."

     She could see his profile, illuminated from an outside light in someone’s garden.  She reached for his hand and the tears that she’d held in check began to flow over her cheeks.

     "What is it Catherine, what’s wrong?" he asked, panic filling his voice.

     She squeezed his hand. 
"I’m so sorry."

     He turned her to face him but she couldn’t meet his gaze. 
"I’ve done something terrible and I can’t take it back."

    
"Whatever it is we’ll sort it out.  You don’t need to worry about anything.  I love you and there’s nothing that we can’t face together.  You know that."

     Catherine lowered her head, shame coursing through her.

     "Please, sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong.  Whatever it is we’ll talk about it and find some way to resolve it.  You can share anything with me.  There’s nothing you can say that will make me love you any less than…"

    
"I slapped Lucy."

     Although she couldn’t see his face clearly she felt the tension enter his body.  Silence fell between them and Catherine knew that following the shock of her admission he would instantly be trying to excuse her actions.

     "Did you say Lucy?"

     Catherine nodded in the darkness and closed her eyes.  How could she possibly explain what had happened.  How could she translate the lightning thought process that had led her to that inexcusable action.  She knew that Tim was wondering how Lucy could have done anything to deserve such treatment.  It was inexcusable with either of their children but whereas Jess had the spirit to test the patience of a saint Lucy did nothing wrong.  Ever.

     "Was she being naughty?" Tim asked, doubtfully.

    
"No," Catherine whispered.

    
"Then why?" Tim asked, turning to face her.

    
"It’s complicated, Tim.  I can’t explain except to say that it was wrong and that I am the only person to blame.  It was Jess who was playing up but…"

    
"Did you hit Lucy by accident?" Tim asked.  Catherine could hear faint hope in his words and she realised that this was her opportunity to backtrack.  She could tell Tim that Jess had been playing up and she’d lost control for a moment and lashed out smacking Lucy accidentally.  She could do that and Tim would take her in his arms and help her through the guilt.  This was her chance to make it all go away.

    
"No, Tim, I didn’t."

    
"But I don’t understand," he said, loosing her hand and running his fingers through his hair.

     Catherine scrunched her eyes in the darkness, pained by his confusion.  She wanted to explain it to him but it wasn’t straight in her own mind.

     She took a deep breath.  "Tim, I have to leave."

     His head shot up. 
"What do you mean, leave?"

    
"For the sake of the girls I have to get away.  It’s not fair to them and it’s not fair to you."

    
"But why?  I mean, I don’t get what…"

    
"Tim, I hit the wrong girl on purpose to teach Jess a lesson."  It hurt her to say the words but she had to be honest with him.  "I can’t explain the significance of that right now until I understand it better in my own mind but I have to get away from them for their own safety.  Next time it might be worse."

     She could tell that Tim was struggling to comprehend what she’d said to him.  He was torn at his anger at her actions and his resolve to persuade her to stay and work the problems out.

     An emptiness was beginning to form in her stomach at leaving her family but in her heart she knew it was the right thing to do.  It was the right thing for her children.

    
"I love you Tim and in my own way I love the girls.  I just have to work out if that’s good enough."

     She stood and retrieved the suitcase that she’d packed earlier.  Tim remained immobile on the sofa.  Catherine bent and kissed the top of his head.  She let herself out of the front door soundlessly.

     She pulled out of the drive and parked a few doors down, her visibility hindered by the tears streaming from her eyes.  She watched the house for a few moments before pulling away and still the light didn’t go on.

***

     "Are you ready?" Lisa asked from the doorway.

    
"For what?"

    
"The monthly meeting."

     Catherine glanced at her diary. 
"There’s nothing in here about a monthly meeting."

     Lisa rolled her eyes. 
"I put it on your scheduler."

     Shit, Catherine thought as she realised that she hadn't even checked her calendar for the day.

     She grabbed her daybook and headed for the door.  The daybook was a system that she’d recently re-introduced for herself.  It consisted of listing everything that she had to do and ranged from making simple phone calls to arranging promotion time for the products.  The system was simplistic and relied on regular updating.  Each night she would go through the list striking off items that she’d achieved and then re-write the list adding new tasks.  An old boss had told her that once the list went on to two pages it signalled too much work.  Her list currently stood at 3 and a quarter pages.

     The team was already assembled when she entered the room.  Lisa poured coffee for them both and took her seat.  Catherine worked through the minutes of the previous meeting ticking off the things that had been achieved and setting new targets for the items that hadn’t.

     "Any other business?" Catherine asked, twenty minutes into the meeting.  She desperately hoped not as her attention span was being seriously hampered by the lack of sleep she’d managed to get the previous night amidst the unfamiliarity of the hotel room.

     She started with Laura, the creative consultant and the only person around the table that Catherine envied.

     "The models," she stated.  "Two of the original choice are no longer available.  One is pregnant and the other has an epidermal cyst or something on the bridge of her nose."

    
"Well, go to list B," Catherine instructed.  When choosing the models they had drawn up two lists so that if one list became exhausted they would start on the second.

     Laura shrugged her shoulders. 
"These girls are from list B."

     Catherine groaned.  That meant getting onto the agencies and finding a new batch of models that fitted the criteria.  Something she would have to supervise herself.    

     "I’ll contact the agencies," Catherine said, making a note at the end of her list.

     She moved on to Mitchell but Laura coughed. 
"Ummm, the make-up artist that we booked for the preliminary shoot is playing up.  She’s hiked her prices up after a film that she worked on got nominated for an award or something."

    
"So is there any Oscar in her immediate future?" Catherine said, dryly.

    
"Nothing that glamorous but she’s in demand and she’s making the most of it."

    
"Tell her that she’ll do it for the agreed sum or…"

    
"I’ve tried that and it didn’t work.  She won’t talk to anyone but you and the preliminary shoot is only…"

    
"Two weeks away.  Yes, I know that Laura.  I’ll talk to her once we’re out of this meeting."  Catherine made another note.

    
"Mitchell?" Catherine asked, feeling a gnawing sensation begin to bite at the back of her eyes.

     Mitchell shook his head and she moved on to Victor, in charge of design.

     "’Fraid so," he said, smiling.  "There’s a problem with the size of the lettering on the smaller bottles of the hand cream."

     Catherine frowned.  It was the first she’d heard of this. 
"What type of problem?"

    
"Well the font size on the larger bottle works well with the size of the bottle.  The name fits perfectly without going around the curves of the shape.  On the smaller bottle it’s not working.  The font has been scaled down to match the reduction of the bottle but the lettering is hardly legible.  It’s partly due to the lettering that the client insisted on.  In a smaller font it just doesn’t work."

     Catherine sighed. 
"Give me a little time with that one."  That was a problem not so easily rectified and would result in another three product meetings including one with the client.  She made a note on her list.

     Only Jasper was left and she could tell that he had something from the slightly nervous look on his face.

     "I’m just waiting for the go ahead to book the programming."

     Catherine hid her discomfort. 
"Of course, Jasper, I’ll let you have that as soon as possible."  Damn, she had forgotten to balance the budgets at the weekend.  Jasper had given her a provisional figure for the television and radio costs and she had to confirm that it was within budget which it was sure not to be.  That was when the negotiations with the TV and radio stations would begin.

     She nodded to signal the end of the meeting and checked her list.  She knew there was a note about the budgets somewhere.  Her eyes searched each page until she found it at the bottom of page two. 

     "Well done," she said to Lisa when they were alone.  "That wasn’t too bad.  You’re doing a good job of heading the weekly meetings."

     Lisa smiled but her expression faltered.

     "What’s wrong?"

    
"Look, it’s really nothing but there were a couple of comments earlier about things being missed.  Victor said he sent you a memo and two e-mails about the packaging problem last week.  I explained how busy you were…"

    
"Don’t worry about it," Catherine said, sensing Lisa’s discomfort.  She was doing a great job and she didn’t want the project to fail.  Catherine respected that.  "I hear what you’re saying and I’ll be on top of it by the end of the day."

     
"And you still haven’t replaced me.  I know that you’ve got a lot of things to do at the moment and I’m happy to struggle on for a while longer because I’m loving what I’m doing but I’m just getting this vibe that you’re not."

    
"Of course I am," Catherine said, mechanically.  "I love what I do.  It’s just a bit hectic at the moment." 

     She smiled brightly, the expression belying the feelings in her stomach but Lisa deserved her full attention.  The girl had been stretching herself between two jobs since the beginning of the project.  If Catherine was truthful she’d deliberately put off replacing Lisa as her PA because she felt reassured having Lisa around. 
"Okay, ring around the agencies and get me some prospective replacements.  Oh, and before you do that, get that bloody make-up artist on the phone."

     Two minutes later Catherine was talking to Joyce Patterson.

     "We had an agreement, Joyce.  You were our first choice for this photo shoot.  Our girls are beautiful and our product is spectacular but your skills are invaluable," Catherine said, blowing up the woman’s butt.  It was worth a first attempt.

    
"Thank you for that, Catherine and you know how much I’d like to do this shoot but things have become very hectic for me since the nomination."

     Catherine admired how quickly the shrewd woman managed to get that into the conversation. 
"Yes, I heard about that and I’d like to congratulate you on the accolade but obviously we made an agreement with you before any of this happened and it would only be fair to have that agreement honoured."

    
"It’s not that I don’t want to do it, but I have to make a living and I’m being offered the same money for half a day’s work on a television documentary about makeovers for the rich and…"

    
"I understand that, Joyce, but we had an agreement."

    
"Well, it was more of an informal thing really, wasn’t it?  I mean there was nothing in writing so I assumed it was just a hypothetical chat."

     Catherine felt her insides igniting.  The woman was just plainly lying now.  It had been a verbal exchange and the formulation of the contract was on her list of things to get done.