the kettle she first picked up a packet of cigarettes on the side, took one out and lit it with a deep drag.
Sadie’s emotions were running riot, and a feeling of physical sickness arose in her gut. She spun round and walked back into the kitchen, wanting to ask her mum a million questions but somehow unable to find the words for even one. Allen followed her and stood in the doorway. The silence was filled by the clattering of her mum getting the tea things together.
When Sadie could bear it no longer she finally spoke. ‘I wasn’t doing anything,’ she whispered.
‘What’s that, Sadie?’ Allen replied, his voice loud enough to be heard by Jackie.
Sadie shot him a spiteful look as her mum turned round to listen. ‘We just met before, that’s all,’ she mumbled.
Allen raised an eyebrow and smiled. ‘No, pet,’ he said. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Yes, we have,’ she insisted.
‘Sadie,’ her mum reprimanded. ‘Don’t answer back to Allen.’ She turned to her new man. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told him.
‘It’s all right. She’s just getting confused, aren’t you, pet?’
‘I’m not getting confused, I …’ Her voice trailed away as she realized that Jackie was now suddenly too busy making the tea to listen.
Allen approached her, and Sadie became aware of his strong-smelling aftershave. He put his hand into his pocket pulled out a cuddly toy, pink and floppy-eared, and pressed it into Sadie’s unwilling hand. She looked at it briefly. It was not new – she could tell that instantly – and it was the sort of thing that might have been of interest to a child half her age.
‘Squeeze it,’ Allen said.
She did so, and the cuddly toy started to laugh. The laugh lasted for about thirty seconds, during which time the three of them were silent. When it stopped, Sadie looked from the toy back to Allen. He was obviously expecting a ‘thank you’, but she didn’t have the voice to give it to him, and his eyes tightened in momentary annoyance. He looked over her shoulder, across the kitchen and into the hallway. ‘Don’t you think you should pick up your school satchel, Sadie?’ he asked.
Sadie stared at him in astonishment, and then glanced at her mum for some sort of support.
‘Do what Allen asks, love,’ was all she said.
Sadie blinked. She handed the cuddly toy back to Allen, and then turned and walked to her satchel as calmly as her turmoil would allow. She picked it up and hung it on the creaky stair banister where she always kept it; then she ran up the stairs, her feet thumping the floorboards, and slammed her bedroom door behind her. She threw herself on to her bed, hugged her pillow and burst into tears.
After some time – Sadie was not sure how long – she heard the stairs creak as they always did when someone walked up them. There was a knock on the door and, without waiting to be asked, Jackie walked in. She was holding the cuddly toy. ‘Come on, love,’ she said, sitting on the bed beside Sadie and gently stroking her hair.
Sadie continued to whimper into her pillow.
‘I thought you’d be pleased,’ Jackie continued. ‘To have a man in the house, I mean.’
‘What about Dad?’ Sadie asked accusingly through her tears.
‘Oh, love. No one’s forgetting about your dad. It’s just …’ Her voice trailed away, and she continued to stroke Sadie’s hair as she waited for the crying to subside. Eventually Sadie sat up and put her head against her mum’s shoulder. Jackie handed her the cuddly toy. ‘You should say thank you to Allen for this,’ she told her daughter.
Sadie looked at it in distaste. She could hardly explain to herself why she found it such an unpleasant thing, let alone to her mum. ‘I’m too old for things like that,’ she said finally. ‘It’s babyish.’
‘I know love, but Allen … He doesn’t have any children, and he just wanted to do something nice for you.’
As she spoke, Sadie felt a hot wave of guilt passing over her, and she knew she had behaved badly. She stared hard at the frayed carpet on the floor in a gesture of apology, but she prayed her mum wouldn’t make her go down and say sorry. ‘Is that where you’ve been going? In the evenings, I mean. To see him?’
Jackie nodded, and brushed a strand of Sadie’s long hair off her face. ‘Allen’s going to look after us, love,’ she said in a half-whisper. ‘He’s going to make sure we’re not lonely, you and me.’
Sadie continued to stare at the floor. ‘Is he going to live here?’ she asked.
‘Yes. If that’s all right with you. Is it?’
For a moment Sadie thought about telling the truth – that she didn’t want anyone else in their house, that she didn’t want anyone else in their life. But then she looked up at her mum and saw the anxiety in her eyes. ‘All right,’ she muttered.
Jackie squeezed her hand. ‘Shall we go down?’ she asked.
Sadie nodded mutely.
Allen was sitting on the sofa downstairs, his hands behind his head and his legs stretched out in front of him. When he saw the two of them in the door he sat up straight. Sadie felt her mum give her an encouraging little push, and stepped forward. ‘Thank you for my present,’ she said, without fully catching his eye.
Allen stood up, walked over to her and slid the palm of his hand momentarily down the back of her head. When it reached her neck, she felt him stroke her gently on the shoulder and then squeeze slightly. He stepped over to Jackie. ‘You ready?’ he asked her.
Jackie shot a guilty look at her daughter. ‘Um, me and Allen are nipping out tonight. You’ll be all right, won’t you, love?’
The corkscrew in Sadie’s heart twisted a little further. ‘Yeah,’ she said sullenly. ‘I’ll be all right.’
She pushed past them and hurried back up to her bedroom.
By six o’clock she was alone in the house. It was a light, sunny evening, and from her room looking out over the front of the house she could hear the sounds of other children playing in the street. There was nothing to stop her from going out and joining them, or phoning Carly or Anna, but somehow she didn’t have the enthusiasm. Her mind was saturated with the confusion of her mother’s bombshell; it was like a piece of blotting paper that had soaked up so much ink that you couldn’t see its original colour. She could concentrate on nothing else. At times she found herself crying; then she would find herself unable to cry, even though she felt as though she ought to. She made herself a sandwich, but two mouthfuls in she realized she wasn’t hungry, so she left it half-eaten on a plate by the sink. She ran herself a deep bubble bath – that always made her feel better – but it did no good. She put on her nightdress, which was a bit too small for her, and climbed under her duvet in an attempt to shut out the persistent evening light. Clutching her teddy bear, she bit her lip as the words her mother had spoken echoed in the chamber of her mind.
‘Allen’s going to look after us.’
But they didn’t need looking after.
‘He’s going to make sure we’re not lonely.’
But they weren’t lonely, as long as there was the two of them.
‘Allen’s going to be your new dad.’
But she didn’t want a new dad. She just wanted her old one.
The following morning was a Saturday, and Sadie woke early. The ugly feeling that had been with her until she had finally fallen asleep the previous night had not gone away, and she didn’t feel as if she would ever want to get out of bed. But she was thirsty, so, still wearing her nightdress, she crept downstairs, doing her best not to wake anyone.
Allen was already up, leaning with his back to the sink, a mug of tea in his hand.