Her One Mistake Read online

  “So where can I park?” I asked, flashing my own patient smile back.

  “Hold on, my lovely, let me see if I can find you a VIP space.” She turned away and I rolled my eyes at Jack, who sat beside me. When Gail turned back she pointed to a spot at the far end. “Go over there.” She smiled. “No one will block you in.”

  “Thanks, Gail,” I said as I slowly pulled away. Being friends with her did have some advantages.

  It was the hottest day on record for May, the DJ on the radio had said that morning. As I climbed out of the car, the pink sundress I’d plucked from the closet was already starting to cut into the skin under my arms and I regretted not wearing flip-flops. Lifting my hair up, I tied it into a ponytail and riffled through my bag for my sunglasses, rubbing at a scratch on one of the lenses before putting them on, promising myself I’d look for the case when I got home. “Two-hundred-pound Oakleys should not be shoved to the bottom of your bag,” Audrey had once sighed, and I agreed with her but still had no idea where the case was.

  “Mummy? I need the toilet,” Evie cried as soon as we made it onto the field.

  “Oh, Evie, you have to be kidding,” I muttered, grabbing my dress out of her hands. “And please don’t tug on my clothes, darling.” I pulled the top of my dress back up and looked down to see if she’d revealed my bra.

  “But I need to go. I can go on my own.”

  “No, Evie, you really can’t,” I sighed. “You are only three.”

  “I can go with Jack.”

  I turned back to Jack, who was dawdling behind me, his head still stuck in his iPad, brow furrowed in deep concentration as he fought dragons. Jack was ten now and had accomplished major skills for flicking and tapping and swiping anything that posed a threat. I knew I should make him spend less time on gadgets—I’d even been told it wasn’t conducive to the much-needed improvement of his social skills—but despite all that, I also knew my son was happiest when he was in his own private world.

  He looked so much like Tom with his thick, dark hair and the way his eyes scrunched up when he was concentrating hard. I smiled at him, even though he remained completely oblivious, and when I turned back to Evie I realized I’d lost sight of the other two. “Where are Molly and Alice? They were both right here. Evie?” I questioned impatiently. “Where have Molly and Alice gone?”

  Evie pointed a chubby finger toward the cake stall. “Over there.”

  I let out a breath as I saw them idly staring at the sugar-topped fairy cakes that had been delivered in hundreds by the mums. My daughter had a hand grasped tightly around Alice’s arm and was talking at her and pointing out cakes as if she were about to reach out and pinch one.

  “Girls! Stay with me,” I called. Streams of people wove in and out of the stalls, and Molly and Alice were momentarily lost behind a family—a large father with a T-shirt that read LOS POLLOS CHICKEN, and his equally large wife stuffing a doughnut into her mouth. I edged toward the cake stall, peering between the legs of the kids trawling behind the couple.

  “Molly! Come back here, now.” The two girls finally appeared. Meanwhile Evie was now bouncing from one foot to the other and tugging on my dress again.

  “When can we get cotton candy?” Molly asked. “I’m starved.”

  “And I really, really need the toilet, Mummy!” Evie shouted, stamping a little pink shoe into the grass. “Urrrgh, I’ve got mud all over my feet,” she cried, shaking her foot and kicking me in the leg.

  “It’s a bit of soil, Evie, and I did tell you it was going to be muddy, but you still insisted on wearing those shoes,” I said, wiping the dirt from her foot and my shin. “And try and watch what you’re doing. You hurt Mummy.”

  “I’m dirty!” Evie screamed, falling into a pile on the ground. “I need the toilet.” I looked around me, praying no one was watching. A couple of mums glanced in my direction but turned away again quickly. I could feel the heat spreading rapidly to my cheeks as I decided whether to walk away and leave her writhing on the ground or pick her up and give in just to save face.

  “Oh, Evie,” I sighed. “We’ll go behind the tree.” I waved my hand toward the side of the field.

  Evie’s eyes lit up.

  “But do it subtly. Try not to draw attention to us,” I said as I pulled her over to the tree. “Then we can go and get cotton candy,” I called behind me. “And we can find the bouncy castles too, would everyone like that?” I asked, but if they answered, I didn’t hear them above the noise of the crowd.

  • • •

  DESPITE THE START of a niggling headache, I ordered a coffee from the cotton candy stall. It felt inappropriate to get a glass of Pimm’s when I had four children to watch, and coffee was almost the next best thing. I looked around and waved at friends I spotted in the distance. Audrey tottered across the field, wearing ridiculous high-heeled sandals. Her hair was piled high on her head, a shawl draped over her shoulders, and a long satin skirt swished behind her as she walked. Audrey was completely not dressed for either the weather or a school fair, but she didn’t care. She waved back at me, grinning and gesturing at all the children huddled beside me with a look of mock horror. I shrugged as if I couldn’t care less that I was on my own with so many children to look after.

  I saw Karen and smiled to myself as she stood outside the beer tent waving her arms dramatically to get her husband’s attention as he tried to ignore her.

  “So the bouncy castles next?” I asked, when each of the kids was happily picking at the sticky pink sugar. We began walking toward the farthest side of the field, where I could make out the tip of an inflatable slide. “Look how big that one is.”

  “I want to go on that one instead.” Molly’s eyes widened as she pointed to a huge inflatable that stretched back to the very edge of the field. It was bright green with inflatable palm trees swaying on the top and the words “Jungle Run” running down the side. Molly ran over to look inside its mesh windows, and for once Jack was close at her heels.

  “It’s awesome,” she cried. “Come and have a look, Alice.” Alice ambled over obligingly and peered through the window. My heart went out to Alice as it often did, seemingly happy to go along with whatever the others decided, but sometimes I wished she would speak up. I rarely knew if she was happy or simply didn’t have the confidence to say otherwise.

  “Can we go on, Mum?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, of course you can.” It was the kind of thing I would have loved as a child, and would have reveled in dragging my sister through.

  Alice pulled back and looked up at me.

  “You don’t have to go on it if you don’t want to,” I said.

  “Of course you want to, don’t you, Alice?” Molly piped up.

  “Molly, she can make up her own mind.” I pulled out my purse to count out change. “Would you rather stay with me?” I said to Alice.

  “I’m not going,” Evie interrupted. “I’m going on the slide.”

  “Would you like to go on the slide with Evie?”

  “No, I’ll go with Molly,” she said quietly, and I realized those were the first words she’d said to me all day.

  “Right, well, stick together all of you. And Jack, watch out for the girls,” I called behind him, though I doubted he’d heard me. He was already halfway down the side of the Jungle Run.

  I passed the money to a mum I didn’t recognize and when I looked back, they were already out of sight around the back.

  “Come on, Mummy.” Evie tugged at my dress again.

  “Five minutes, Evie,” I said. “They’ve got five minutes on this and then we’ll go on the slide.” I needed to sit down in the shade. My head was starting to thump and the coffee wasn’t making it any better. “Let’s go and watch that magic show being set up, and then I promise you can go on it.”

  • • •

  EVIE WAS ABSORBED in watching the magician, which meant she was momentarily silent. I pulled my phone out of my bag as a matter of habit and checked my messages, reading a text fro
m my neighbor about the party that night, asking everyone to come around the back so we didn’t disturb the baby.

  I looked at my email and pressed a link that took me to Facebook, reading some inane quiz and then scrolling through posts, getting caught up in everyone else’s lives.

  I glanced over and saw the children tumbling down the slide at the end of the Jungle Run and then running around the back again before I or anyone else had the chance to tell them their time was up. I commented on a picture of a friend’s holiday and updated my status that I was enjoying the hot weather at the school fair.

  When I eventually got up and told Evie she could go on the slide, we went back to the Jungle Run, laughing as Jack hurled himself over the edge at the end and fell onto his back at the bottom.

  “That was awesome,” he cried, picking himself up and coming to stand next to me.

  I threw an arm over his shoulder and pulled him in for a hug, and for once I didn’t feel him tense. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Where are the girls?”

  Jack shrugged.

  “Oh, Jack. I told you to look out for them.”

  “They should have kept up with me,” he said smugly.

  We watched Molly throw herself over the top and plummet down. “Ha! I beat you by a mile.” Jack laughed.

  “That’s because you pushed me at the start. Mummy, Jack hurt my arm.”

  “You’ll be fine,” I said, rubbing her elbow. “Where’s Alice?”

  “I thought she was behind me.”

  “Well she isn’t, Molly, she’s probably stuck somewhere and she might be scared. One of you’ll have to go in again.”

  “I’ll go,” Jack said, already sprinting around the side, eager for another turn.

  “Me too.” Molly disappeared just as quickly, both of them out of sight again. I waited. I glanced around the field, marveling at the amount of people, noticing Audrey again, but she was too far away to call out to. I needed to ask her if she could take Jack to football for me that Monday, so I’d try and catch up with her at some point.

  Jack appeared over the tip of the slide again. “She’s not in there,” he called, landing at my feet.

  “What do you mean she’s not in there? Of course she’s in there.”

  He shrugged. “I couldn’t see her. I went all the way through, and she wasn’t in there.”

  “Molly? Did you see Alice?” I called out to Molly, who had now appeared at the end too. Molly shook her head.

  “Well, she has to be. She can’t have just disappeared. You’ll have to go back on again, Jack,” I said, pushing him around the back. “And this time make sure you find her.”

  HARRIET

  Harriet was told to switch off her phone at the start of the class. She looked around the room and wondered why no one else seemed reluctant as they clicked off their cells and carelessly tossed them into bags and pockets. Surely there were others there who had children?

  Of course Harriet knew it was unusual that her internal reaction to turning off her phone bordered on neurotic. But I’ve never left my daughter with anyone before, she protested silently. How can you possibly expect me not to be reachable when someone else has Alice?

  In the end she decided to switch her phone to silent and balance it carefully on top of her handbag so she would catch it flash if anyone called or texted. With the decision came a tiny burst of relief that she had gotten around this small issue. She pulled out her own notepad and placed it in front of her so she could take notes.

  As she listened to the teacher, Yvonne, make her introductions to the world of bookkeeping, Harriet considered that maybe she should have listened to Charlotte and done something she was interested in. Her friend was right, after all. Harriet would make a good teacher and it’d be nice to put her English degree to better use. But this is about the money, she reminded herself as she tried to focus.

  • • •

  THE MINUTES SLOWLY ticked into hours, and by early afternoon Harriet felt like she’d been folded into that small desk for most of her life. The room was incredibly stuffy, filled with too many people, making it difficult to breathe. Fanning herself with her notebook, she wished Yvonne would open a window, but the woman seemed oblivious to her mounting discomfort. Now Harriet’s right leg was cramping, and even though they were surely due another break, she wondered if she could escape to the bathroom and dampen her forehead with cold water. Then she could check her phone, too. It had somehow slipped into her bag and without making a fuss of looking for it, she couldn’t easily see if there were any missed calls.

  Making a snap decision, Harriet picked up her handbag and squeezed past the people at the next table. Keeping her head down, she left the room for the bright, airy corridor. Already she felt herself breathing more easily.

  “You had enough too?” a voice rang out behind her.

  Harriet turned around to see a young girl from class had followed her out.

  “Sorry?”

  “I’m done with it in there. It’s too hot, isn’t it?”

  “Yes it is.”

  “And too dull.” The girl sniggered. “So I’m leaving.” She stared at Harriet, her gaze drifting toward her mouth.

  Harriet brushed a hand across her mouth self-consciously, but the girl continued to stare under thick false eyelashes, barely blinking.

  “I can’t listen to that woman, Yvette, for one more minute,” the girl carried on.

  “Yvonne,” Harriet said before she could stop herself.

  “Right.” She shrugged. “You should leave too, unless you’re enjoying it.” The corners of her mouth twitched up.

  No, Harriet wasn’t enjoying it, but she also knew she could never leave. She couldn’t possibly walk out before it had finished.

  With one last smirk the girl trotted off down the corridor, disappearing around the corner, and Harriet slipped into the bathroom.

  Letting out a deep breath as she ran the cold water over her wrists, Harriet stared at her reflection. Her cheeks were red from the heat and her neck was blotchy. Her hair was escaping from its bun, and as she scraped it back she caught sight of the gray hairs glistening at her hairline.

  Harriet frowned. At thirty-nine she was aging fast—though it’s not like she did much to help herself. She didn’t wear makeup and her haircut was shapeless. Charlotte was always suggesting places to get it trimmed, but thirty-five pounds seemed far too excessive. Though maybe a bit of mascara would highlight the fact she had eyelashes and make her look less tired. Still, her clothes did nothing for her. Her entire wardrobe was gray or dark brown. She’d borrowed one of Charlotte’s bright pink scarves once, winding it around her neck to keep the chill out at the park, and she couldn’t believe the difference it made.

  Once she had cooled down, Harriet grabbed her phone and tapped the button to light up the screen. When nothing happened, she pressed the side button to turn it on, but the screen remained black.

  “Come on,” she muttered, her stomach clenching by reflex. She pressed it again and again, but nothing came on. The phone must have run out of battery, but she didn’t know how. She’d plugged it in last night as she always did when she went to bed. Harriet remembered doing so because she knew she’d need it today more than ever.

  Maybe she had forgotten.

  No, she definitely didn’t forget. She’d made a point of charging it, just before making a cup of tea to take to bed. She’d remembered because she’d checked it again on her way out of the kitchen. Yet somehow the phone was dead.

  Harriet threw it back into her bag. Now she had no idea what was going on at the fair and no one had any way of telling her. And suddenly the stupidity of the phone’s lack of battery made her want to burst into tears.

  She gulped back a sob. It pained her to be away from Alice. It made her heart quite literally burn, but no one understood that. So Harriet had learned to play down how much she wanted to hold on to her daughter, how she hated the thought of letting her out of her sight. She saw the way Charlotte’s frien
ds glanced at each other when she’d admitted she’d never been away from Brian or Alice overnight.

  “She’d cope without you,” Charlotte would say. “Doesn’t Brian want you all to himself for the odd night?” Harriet tried imagining what Brian would say if she ever suggested it. He’d probably be thrilled at the idea.

  “Or leave her with Brian and come away with the girls instead?” she’d persisted.

  She couldn’t see herself doing either, so she mostly played down how she felt because she despised the fact she was like this in the first place. No one knew what it took to leave Alice with Charlotte today. But Charlotte had been thrilled she had asked her, even though Harriet didn’t have to tell her there was no one else to ask.

  “You have to let them go one day,” a woman in a shop had said to her once. “One day they grow their wings and just fly away. Like a butterfly,” she added, flapping her arms in the air. Harriet had resisted the urge to slap them back down.

  Alice would want to fly away one day, just like she had. Harriet’s own mum had held on to her, too much so, and Harriet was well aware how destructive it could be. She’d promised herself not to be like that with her own children and yet here she was. Somewhere along the line she had become the mother she never wanted to be.

  She should forget the phone and go back into the room and suffer through the rest of the course. It didn’t matter, she told her reflection. It was only another—she checked her watch—two hours at most, and she’d be home at four thirty as planned.

  Or she could slip away like the other girl had.

  Harriet tapped her fingers against the sink. She really should be able to make simple decisions.

  CHARLOTTE

  As I peered through the mesh window of the Jungle Run, all I saw were screaming children tumbling over each other, barely realizing they were stepping on others in their excitement. Alice could be crouching in a corner and most of the kids wouldn’t give her a second glance. I had to go on it myself—I couldn’t rely on Jack to search for her properly.