Page 74 of Guilty Mothers
‘Too slow.’
I start again, and now all the boys are staring at me because of the tone in Mom’s voice.
‘Hahahaha, you’re crap,’ Henry sneers.
Mrs Rushton shushes him.
I can see by Mom’s face that I’m letting her down. She wanted to show me off to her friend, and I’ve already messed it up.
My legs wobble as I see the rage building in her face. I feel sick. The food is threatening to come back up. I can’t move, and I know she’s getting angrier and angrier. Everyone in the room is just looking at me.
Louis goes to stand beside his mom. His small body nestles against her leg. Mrs Rushton’s hand automatically rises and strokes his head. An unconscious, loving gesture.
Suddenly it’s all too much and I burst into tears.
Mrs Rushton rises from the sofa.
‘Leave her alone,’ Mom snaps. ‘She’s got nothing to cry for. I’m the one who should be crying because she’s useless. Ugly, fat, stupid and?—’
‘Get your things, boys,’ Mrs Rushton says, heading towards the door.
I say nothing as they leave. I stay where I am in the middle of the room unable to stop the sobs. I gag and vomit and still I can’t stop crying. The mucus is pouring from my nose over my lips.
‘Well, what a clever girl you are,’ Mom says from the doorway. ‘Completely humiliated me in front of my friend. After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me. You can’t even walk in a straight line. You don’t have one ounce of grace to make up for your looks. I’m expected to work miracles with a lump of dough. I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time. You’re never going to be good at anything.’
Every word stabs me in the heart. I cry harder. I want her to hold me. I want her to ask me if I’m okay. I want her to soothe me. I want her to stop saying these horrible words.
‘Get upstairs until you can stop that snivelling. I can’t even look at you right now. You disgust me.’
With the tears refusing to stop, I turn and run up to my room.
FORTY-SEVEN
The home of Sally-Ann Davis was less than a mile from where her body had been found.
Kim had barely had a chance to compose herself before Bryant pulled up behind the squad car outside the house. It didn’t matter how many times she spoke to grieving families, it never got any easier.
A pair of shears and a lawnmower had been abandoned on the lawn. From the length of the grass, the job was a week or two overdue. It had probably been put off until it could be delayed no more. Something so mundane, so ordinary, and now it wouldn’t get a second thought.
Inspector Plant met them at the door.
‘He’s not having it,’ the inspector advised as another squad car turned up.
‘He might now,’ she said as a constable got out holding Banger.
Bryant took the dog from his arms. It was trembling like a leaf.
‘Come on, buddy – let’s get you home, eh?’ Bryant said, carrying him up the path.
‘Banger, Banger, come here,’ said a man at the door. The dog scrabbled to be reunited with his owner.
‘Mr Davis?’ Kim asked, showing her ID.
He nodded, looking beyond her, waiting for his wife to return. Kim’s throat constricted at the hope etched into his features.
‘May we come inside?’ she asked, eager to close the door so that he knew no one else was coming.
He choked back a sob as he turned away. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said, taking a seat on the sofa.