The Lie of Love Page 5

  Storm turned over the first card and then looked up at Darcy with a slow smile. ‘I think you were focusing just fine. Although it’s not the question I expected you to ask either.’

  Darcy couldn’t get the tarot reading out of her head. All thoughts of what the event had really meant were pushed to the back of her mind as she negotiated the twisting hills out of the town and home. Storm had said that a rift was coming, and a choice. Darcy almost fainted when she turned over the Death card, until Storm told her that it really didn’t mean death at all, but that some huge change that was imminent. The thought of that was almost more terrifying than Darcy’s own more literal interpretation. Every card told the same story: of an event that would change her life forever, an event that would tear it apart and hurl it out of orbit. What it meant more specifically, Storm couldn’t say, and that was even more unsettling. Did she really know and wanted to spare Darcy the pain, or was she telling the truth? The one comfort that she did offer was that Darcy could influence the outcome herself. The future was not written in stone, she said, and Darcy’s actions could force any one of a number of futures into being. That much, to Darcy, seemed obvious. Perhaps, she told herself as her mind ran over the day for the umpteenth time, she was placing too much stock in something that really was as arbitrary as what amounted to a pack of laminated, mass produced pictures with about as much psychic ability as the sausages she was planning to cook for supper. She tried to focus on the positives of the day: with extra donations and what the psychic event had brought in, they had made over four hundred pounds. Amanda had taken it to put into the special bank account they had opened – Darcy just didn’t trust herself not to lose it or accidentally use some if it was lying around the house, thinking it was hers. It was important to keep everything above board, so they had counted their takings in the presence of the proprietor of The Sugar Cube, and Amanda would return in the morning with a payment receipt showing that she had paid the whole lot into the bank account so that it could be witnessed. They had agreed that it was the way to go for all their events where they could, so that everything was as transparent as it could be. The bank account couldn’t be accessed without special permission and proof that the money was needed for something connected to the cause – like an invoice from the US hospital where they hoped Sophie would have her surgery. At times like these, Darcy couldn’t help but reflect on how lucky she was to have Amanda; her friend was worth her weight in expensive perfume and designer dress jewellery.

  Closing the front door behind her with a sigh, Darcy was about to unset the burglar alarm when she realised that it wasn’t set. She had either forgotten or someone had beaten her home, although it was only just gone two. The kids weren’t due to be picked up for another hour and Ged was supposed to be at work. She almost jumped out of her skin when his voice came from the living room.

  ‘Is that you, light of my life?’

  ‘Ged! You nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought we had intruders.’ Darcy followed the voice and found him sitting in a chair with his feet up on a stool reading the morning papers.

  ‘Intruders? Would they get in-tru-der-window?’

  ‘Very funny.’ Darcy kicked his feet from the stool and perched on the end of it. ‘What are you doing home?’

  ‘That’s a nice welcome.’

  ‘Seriously. You don’t look ill.’

  ‘I forgot some drawings so I nipped back for them.’

  ‘You’re reading the newspaper.’

  ‘I know. I thought I’d grab my break here instead of at work, seeing how I’d come all this way…. so, how was the psychic?’

  Darcy beamed, certain he would be pleased with her first efforts. ‘We made over four hundred pounds today.’

  ‘Yay… only another forty-four thousand, six hundred to go.’ Ged’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  ‘I can count,’ Darcy shot back, her tone matching his. ‘We have raffle money to add to that, don’t forget. And we’ve only just started; there’s lots to do over the next few months.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Ged buried his head back in the paper. ‘Some kid called Harry Simmons phoned here after you.’

  ‘Oh, Julia’s son,’ Darcy said, glad that Ged was now reading the paper. She was certain she was blushing and just hoped her voice sounded neutral enough not to arouse his suspicion. ‘Julia Simmons… you remember her?’

  ‘Not especially,’ Ged replied without looking up. ‘Should I?’

  ‘I used to have a little bit to do with her… PTA stuff at Jake’s school. I haven’t seen her for a few years though. But we ran into her and she’s helping out with the fundraising. I did tell you.’

  ‘Probably,’ Ged agreed carelessly. ‘You tell me a lot of stuff.’

  ‘Well, Harry is organising a Lifeguard Olympics to raise money.’

  There was a guffaw from behind the paper. ‘Lifeguard Olympics? Is it like Lyme’s answer to Baywatch? If it is I’d pay to see it.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Darcy answered, a defensive note creeping into her tone. ‘But you don’t turn down an offer of help, no matter how lame it sounds… besides, I happen to think it’s a fantastic idea.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure it is. His number is on the pad.’

  Darcy got up to find the message pad.

  ‘Oh, Darc, there’s some money in a tin on the mantelpiece. I sold some raffle tickets at work.’

  Darcy pulled down the paper and kissed him on the head. ‘I knew you cared really.’

  ‘Just don’t tell everyone, I don’t want people thinking I’ve gone soft.’

  ‘Your secret is safe with me.’

  Ged’s paper went back up to hide the grin that was spreading across his face. Darcy went to the phone table and ripped the top page from the pad. She stared at the number. It was a mobile number, not the Simmons’ house number as she had thought it would be. The idea caused a strange kick of excitement in her guts. She shook herself, feeling ridiculous. Her gaze travelled to Ged, half obscured by the Independent. He could be a pain but he deserved her loyalty, didn’t he?

  ‘I’ll call the house, speak to Julia. I’m more likely to get him there anyway.’

  There was nothing more than a grunt from Ged in reply. Darcy wondered if he had even been listening to her. She checked her watch. There wasn’t really time to do anything before the school run except grab a quick glass of juice and put the recycling out. Whatever phone call she made, it would just have to wait.

  No matter how many times Darcy squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to empty her mind, no matter how many times she plumped her pillow, turned it over, kicked Ged to break the steady snore that rolled from his throat, sleep wouldn’t come. She looked at the clock on the bedside cabinet yet again, and the digital display showed 3AM in mocking red digits. Only twenty minutes had passed since the last time she had looked and yet it felt like a year.

  It was rare to see the house so utterly still and quiet, and as Darcy made her way down to the kitchen, she could almost imagine it had somehow been frozen in time. She couldn’t remember the last time she had drank a plain glass of milk, she reflected as she poured herself one, but it tasted good, like the only thing that was right for the mood she found herself in. Not since Sophie had first been diagnosed had she felt so vulnerable, so lost, only this time she couldn’t put her finger on what had dragged those old fears to the surface. All the things that had happened that day – the tarot reading, the phone message from Harry, Ged’s apparent disinterest in the event – seemed to point to a runaway train on a path to disaster. Only now it was too late; she had already boarded. She didn’t even know where this idea had come from, but she couldn’t shake it. She had phoned the Simmons’ house and spoken to Julia, who told her that Harry was out and not answering his mobile anyway (she didn’t know where but was fairly certain large amounts of alcohol would be involved) but she filled Darcy in on what she knew of his plans for his fundraiser Olympics and they decided that an update was probably all he was phoning Darcy for
anyway. Nothing of note, nothing to cause her concern had happened for the rest of the evening – dinner had been eaten without remark or thanks, as always, and Jake had fallen foul of Ged’s temper, as he seemed to do every night lately, but Darcy had spent it in an uneasy and sombre mood, more than those regular family events warranted. She was almost glad when bedtime had come for the children so she could stop pretending mummy was alright.

  She had left the kitchen lights off. Through the wooden slats of the kitchen blinds, a sliver of pearlescent white peeked in, cutting through the gloom. Darcy went over to open them and the full disc of the moon branded itself on her eyes. It was the fundraising, she told herself, the mountainous climb she had set herself, that was making her doubt everything. And life would be strange and challenging, she reminded herself as she stared up at the inky night sky and sipped at her milk, but this was a path she had set now and already too many people had committed to back out. Whatever the next few months held, she had to go and face it head on.

  ‘Mum?’

  Darcy spun around to find Jake at the doorway. In the dim light from outside, she could just make out his bleary-eyed and puzzled expression.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep. What are you doing out of bed? You’ll be tired in the morning now.’

  ‘So will you,’ Jake said. ‘Can I sit with you?’

  ‘In the dark kitchen in the middle of the night?’ Darcy smiled.

  ‘I don’t care about the dark and the moon looks cool like this.’

  Darcy hopped onto a breakfast stool and patted the one next to her. ‘Just ten minutes and then we go back to bed.’

  Jake made his way over and climbed up beside her. She shoved the glass of milk his way. ‘Want to finish that? I’ve had enough.’

  He took the drink and Darcy ruffled his hair as he drank it. He was much blonder than the rest of them, and they had often pondered how he had come to have such golden tresses. A family throwback, they supposed, though neither she nor Ged could recall anyone in their families being quite so blonde. But the current of deep thoughts that ran beneath the boisterous exterior of a normal carefree boy – Darcy knew that he got that particular trait from her. Where she could never quite work out what was going on in Sophie’s head, Jake’s was like a mirror of her own. He was a born worrier and he would always worry, and for that she felt truly sorry, because she knew exactly how that would limit his life choices if he let it.

  ‘Miss Pearson says we should have a non-uniform day and give the money to Sophie,’ Jake said, interrupting her thoughts. ‘I forgot to tell you.’

  ‘That’s alright. I expect she would have sent a letter home. It’s very kind of her…. did you put that idea in her head?’

  ‘I told her about the plan to take Sophie to America and that you were trying to get the money and she went online and saw the website.’

  Darcy smiled. Good old Amanda had struck gold again when she cajoled a friend of a friend – a web designer – to do them a beautiful site for free in return for endorsing his services. He had even included a constantly updating totals page and a link to an official donation site. It made the whole campaign seem much more genuine when the information about it was freely available to those who wanted to see.

  ‘Well, that’s brilliant. I’ll write a letter to thank her and you can take it into school.’

  They were quiet for a moment as Jake drank some more milk.

  ‘Do you think we’ll get all the money?’ he asked, breaking the silence. ‘Dad says he’s not sure. But you think we will?’

  Darcy looked at him. He needed answers. He needed to know that his life would still continue as it always had done, despite the extra pressures Darcy had brought into their home. She wasn’t sure she could give him those reassurances.

  ‘I’m going to give it my best shot,’ she said slowly. ‘Because I love you and Sophie so much that I would do anything to make you happy and I know that walking would make her happy.’

  He gave a serious nod. ‘I think so too. She doesn’t say it but I think not being able to walk upsets her.’

  ‘Next year…’ Darcy said, pulling him into a hug, ‘when she’s racing up and down, she’ll be able to thank her big brother for all his help and hard work in making it happen.’

  He snuggled further into her – a sure sign he was tired – and folded his arms around her waist. These moments, when he was still her baby boy with no interest in computer games or wrestling or football, but only wanted to be close to his mum, got rarer by the year and Darcy treasured them all the more when they came around. She took a deep breath, the smell of his clean hair filling her nostrils, and kissed him on top of the head. ‘We should get back to bed or we’ll be snoozing when everyone else is starting classes.’

  ‘You don’t do classes so it doesn’t matter.’

  Darcy laughed. ‘I’ll get in trouble with the school though if you aren’t sitting at your desk bright eyed and bushy tailed for yours, though.’

  ‘I sound like a squirrel.’

  ‘You do. Can you imagine a class full of squirrels waiting for Miss Pearson to take register?’

  ‘Muuuumm,’ Jake groaned, more like his normal self. ‘That’s just lame.’

  ‘Come on…’ Darcy leapt from her seat and nudged him. ‘Time for bed, both of us. You know I get silly when I’m tired.’

  ‘You must be tired all the time then,’ Jake said with an impish grin.

  ‘That’s because I have to look after you… stairs – bed – now.’

  ‘Alright…’ Jake jumped down from his stool. Darcy took the now empty glass to the sink and followed him in the direction of the stairs.

  ‘Out of all the mums,’ Jake whispered as she tucked him back into his bed, ‘I’m glad we got you.’

  Darcy smiled. Tomorrow he would be back to normal: alternately noisy beyond belief and sullen beyond reason, but times like this showed that underneath it all he loved her.

  ‘And out of all the kids I’m glad I have you two.’

  Closing the door softly, Darcy crept to her own bedroom where Ged’s snores still rumbled like a distant rock fall, and prepared herself to lie awake until the dawn lit up their room.

  The first official weeks of fundraising had passed in a blur. It had been mostly low key – packing bags at supermarkets for donations, raffles, non-uniform day at Jake’s school and other easy targets, but non-stop. Amanda was pleased with their progress, as Darcy had been, but she was keen to step things up a gear and although Darcy had put it off, she knew that her friend’s insistence that they needed to get the local press involved was founded on good sense. Darcy half hoped Amanda would be the media face of Sophie’s Steps to spare her the attention she was dreading. Her hopes were soon dashed as Amanda broke the news to her over coffee that a reporter from the local free paper wanted to see her and Ged.

  ‘It’s only the free rag, of course,’ Amanda said as Darcy pushed a plate of fairy cakes toward her, ‘but it’s a start. As soon as the bods at the Echo see the other local paper has featured you they’re bound to want a piece of the action.’ Amanda bit into a cake drizzled in lemon icing. ‘These are fantastic.’

  ‘I whipped them up this morning, the quickest thing I can bake. I don’t seem to have much time lately for baking and Ged has been pulling his face about it so I thought I’d better make an effort.’

  ‘Pulling his face? I’d punch it for him if I were you. I haven’t seen him at any of our events yet… anyone would think he doesn’t want Sophie to have her operation.’

  ‘He’s just busy,’ Darcy said, wondering why she was bothering to defend him but feeling the need to just the same. The truth was that she had felt resentful about his lack of engagement with the campaign but she hadn’t really known how to tackle him about it. ‘He will come when he gets a chance, and he’s looking forward to the end result too. I suppose he doesn’t see what goes on first hand and probably doesn’t understand why it’s taking up so much of my time.’

  ‘He would se
e first hand if he got off his backside and attended a few things.’

  Darcy frowned.

  ‘Alright,’ Amanda laughed. ‘It’s your domestic situation, not mine. Consider my nose firmly out.’ She popped the last morsel of her cake in her mouth and licked her fingers. ‘You’ll be making these for the bake sale?’

  Darcy nodded. ‘I expect so. They’re easy to decorate too so I can get Jake and Sophie to help.’

  ‘They’ll have fun doing that. So… back to this reporter… you’re ok to do the interview?’

  ‘Can’t you do it with me?’ Darcy asked. ‘Ged won’t want to and you have done a terrific amount of work so it’s only right that you get some of the credit.’

  ‘It’s not about credit or work – their angle is the story of Sophie and her battle to walk so it’s the family they need to see, not me.’

  Darcy sighed. ‘I’ll ask him. The kids will be only too happy to be in the paper but I don’t know what Ged will say.’

  ‘He ought to say yes and if he says anything else I’m going to be round here having words with him.’

  ‘God, that will terrify him into cooperation for sure,’ Darcy laughed.

  ‘That’s the idea. Now, pass me those cakes again; I’m sure I can fit one or two more in.’

  ‘Why have you told him that?’ Ged reached for the TV remote and began flicking idly between channels. Darcy hated when he did that but she resisted the urge to grab the remote from him and smack him over the head with it.

  ‘Because we’re supposed to be a family united in our goal and that’s the image we have to present, even if one of us doesn’t care.’

  ‘I care,’ Ged said in a voice that suggested he couldn’t care less about anything other than finding the highlights of the previous evening’s international football friendly, ‘but I don’t want to sit posing for some journalist. It’s just not me. Why can’t Amanda do it? She loves all that.’

  ‘She’s not Sophie’s dad, is she?’