The Girl in the Mirror

Seven

‘I’m sure,’ she said. ‘I want to. And it’s not as if I’ve got a proper job and need to take time off work. I’d like to help, really.’

‘It’s much appreciated,’ John said. ‘Thanks, Mandy.’

‘Yes, thanks,’ Evelyn echoed.

‘I don’t know,’ her father said again, as he had when Mandy had first told him of her intention to stay.

‘Why ever not?’ Gran asked, turning from the bed to look at him. ‘It’s nice that Mandy wants to, and Evelyn and John could do with the help. It will be fine, Ray. I promise. Don’t worry.’

They were all in the study grouped once more around Grandpa’s bed. He was asleep and pain-free. The nurse had arrived, full of apologies, shortly after 4 p.m., and had given Grandpa the morphine injection which would allow some relief for a few hours at least. It was now 6 p.m. and, having had an early dinner (Evelyn had insisted he ate before setting off), Mandy’s father was now preparing to leave. But his reluctance to leave Mandy, combined with Gran’s reassuring him: ‘It will be fine, Ray, I promise,’ and their exchange of meaningful glances, seemed to Mandy there was something she wasn’t being told.

‘All right.’ Her father shrugged, still reluctant. ‘But I don’t know what her mother will say.’

‘Nothing,’ Gran said. ‘And I think Jean should come and visit, tomorrow, when you bring Mandy’s things.’

‘I’m sure she will,’ her father said defensively. ‘Jean didn’t realize how ill Dad was or she would have come today.’

‘All right,’ Gran agreed, and returned her attention to Grandpa. She was sitting in her usual chair by the head of his bed. There was more room in the study now. Before dinner her father had helped John manoeuvre the other single bed upstairs back to the guest room it had come from, so Gran could have a better night’s sleep.

Her father looked at his watch and slowly stood. ‘I’d best be off,’ he said awkwardly.

‘We’ll leave you to say goodbye to Dad then,’ Evelyn said. She and John slipped from the study.

He stood uncomfortably by the bed and Mandy saw how difficult he was finding it to leave. Normally father and son shook hands on meeting and parting, but clearly that was impossible now. Grandpa was so heavily sedated it was doubtful he could even hear, let alone raise his arm.

Her father took a step closer. ‘Goodbye, Dad. I’m going now. I’ll see you again tomorrow. I’ll bring Jean with me.’ He paused and looked embarrassed, unsure of what to say or do next. Grandpa gave no acknowledgement, no sign he knew his son was there. ‘Mandy is staying to help look after you,’ he added. ‘Goodbye, Dad.’ He leant over the bed and kissed his father’s forehead. Grandpa’s breathing faltered and then resumed. It was impossible to know if he was aware of his son or not.

Her father turned to Gran and kissed her cheek, easily, as he always did. ‘Goodbye, Mum. Don’t get up. Take care. Look after each other and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Drive carefully, Ray,’ she said, taking hold of his hand. ‘And give my love to Jean.’

‘I will.’ He kissed her again and then crossed to Mandy who was waiting by the study door ready to see him out. With a final glance at his father, he nodded to his mother and quickly left the study.

Mandy walked with him along the hall towards the front of the house.

‘Are you sure you’ll be all right, Amanda?’ he said again as they arrived in the reception hall. ‘You know you can change your mind. You don’t have to stay. I can take you home now.’

She looked at him carefully. ‘Dad, why shouldn’t I be all right? I’m with family. I’m staying to help look after my grandpa.’

He looked away and left the question unanswered. ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

‘Dad, please don’t worry.’ She touched his arm. ‘I’ll be fine, and Evelyn and John desperately need some help. They’re exhausted. If you could get my clothes from the flat that would be great. You’ve got my list and key?’

He nodded. ‘We’ll stop by on the way tomorrow. You mother will have a better idea of where to find things. I must go to the office in the morning so we should be here late afternoon.’

‘OK.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘Text me to say you got home safely.’

He gave a small laugh. ‘I’ll try.’ She had recently taught him to text but his fingers seemed too big for the tiny buttons and he rarely did so, saying it was easier to phone.

‘I’m going now,’ he called to John and Evelyn, and they appeared from the sitting room.

‘Safe journey,’ John said.

Her father shook John’s hand and then kissed his sister’s cheek – his previous awkwardness slightly eased by the time spent with her. Saying goodbye, John and Evelyn made their way back down the hall, leaving Mandy to see her father off. He opened the front door and Mandy folded her arms against the cool evening air. She watched him cross the drive towards the car. The sky was only just beginning to darken as the days were lengthening towards spring. He pointed the remote at the car; the locks flew up and the interior light went on. He paused before getting in and looked back to give a little wave. ‘Take care, love,’ he called. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘Yes.’ She smiled and waved too.

She watched him climb into the car and the door close. The interior light faded and went out. The engine started and the tyres crunched over the gravel as the car slowly moved forward, round the curve of the carriage drive and towards her. As the car drew level her father ducked his head and peered through the side window to give another little wave. She waved back. He continued past and her gaze fell on the rear of the car as it slowly pulled away. Then in the half-light of dusk something strange happened which froze her to the spot. As she watched the receding car, the shadowy outline of a girl appeared in the rear window. The child turned to look at her and their eyes met. She was about twelve and her long fair hair was tied in a ponytail. Tears stained her cheeks and her face was creased in sorrow. Mandy knew instinctively the girl was frightened and needed help but she also knew there was nothing she could do to save her. She stared after the car with an overwhelming sense of despair as it continued down the drive, and away from her. The image of the girl faded and then vanished.

Eight

Mandy stayed where she was, staring at the now empty drive. The air was still and the door to the house stood open behind her. Her heart was racing and her mouth was dry. It must have been a trick of the eye, she said, trying to calm herself, an illusion in the twilight. Of course there wasn’t a girl in the back of your father’s car. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re worried about Grandpa, and tired – it was nothing more than your imagination.

So, as a child accepts its mother’s reassurance that there is nothing lurking under the bed while not wholly convinced, Mandy turned from the drive and went into the welcoming warmth and light of her aunt’s house.

‘How would you feel about staying up with me tonight?’ John asked as she entered the study. He was in one of the pair of leather armchairs with his laptop open on his knees; Gran was in her usual chair by the bed. ‘Evelyn could do with a night’s sleep,’ he added.

‘Yes,’ Mandy said, and sat in the chair next to Gran at the side of the bed.

‘Only if you want to,’ John said. ‘You don’t have to. There’s a bed ready upstairs otherwise.’

‘No, it’s fine, really,’ she reassured him, and looked at Grandpa. Now the medicine had taken effect and he was sleeping comfortably, she could enjoy her time with him; they all could. One of his hands jutted from beneath the bedclothes and Gran was stroking it tenderly. ‘Was your dad all right?’ she asked after a moment.

Mandy nodded. ‘He’s going to text when he gets home. Oh,’ she said, suddenly realizing, ‘I’ve forgotten to tell Adam where I am.’

‘Best phone him now,’ Gran smiled. She’d met Adam many times and liked him.

Mandy stood, retrieved her handbag from where she’d dumped it in the corner of the study and took out her mobile. There were five texts: two from Adam as well as a missed call from him. ‘I won’t be long,’ she said, and left the study.

Going a little way along the hall, she pressed Adam’s number and he answered immediately. ‘Are you OK, Mandy?’ he asked, concerned. ‘Wherever have you been?’

‘Sorry. I’ve had my phone on silent all day. I’m at my aunt’s in Cambridgeshire. Grandpa’s very ill.’ She then explained what had happened since her father had come to her flat early that morning. Adam sympathized; his pique of the night before had gone.

‘If there is anything I can do, promise me you’ll phone,’ he said kindly. ‘I know what you’re going through.’ His own grandfather had died the year before.

‘Thanks,’ she said, touched by his sensitivity and reminded of what she stood to lose. ‘And sorry again about last night.’

‘No problem. Take care.’

When they’d finished the call she texted him: Luv u, which she knew she needed to start showing more as well as saying.

Returning to the study, Mandy sat next to Gran and replied to the other texts, from friends. She sent the same message to all three: Stayin at my aunts. grandpa ill. will fone on return. Leaving her mobile on silent, she dropped it into her bag and took out her iPod. Gran was dozing now and John was still working on his laptop. She plugged in her earpieces and gazed at Grandpa. He was still relatively peaceful. Occasionally his arm jerked, or a muscle twitched in his face, giving the impression he was frowning, but there was no sign of the shocking pain that had engulfed him during the afternoon. Perhaps the nurse had changed the medication, or given him a stronger dose of morphine? She hoped so, for as her father had said no one should have to suffer in this day and age. Her iPod was playing a Michael Jackson ballad, ‘Will You Be There’, and in the now calm atmosphere of the study with Grandpa sleeping peacefully, there was something almost perfect, almost ethereal in the love she felt for him, and she was so very pleased she’d stayed to help.

At 8.15 p.m. Gran was still dozing when Evelyn poked her head round the study door. ‘Mandy, I usually make Gran an Ovaltine drink at this time, before I help her get ready for bed. Would you like an Ovaltine?’

‘No thanks. Is it all right if I make myself a tea later?’

‘Of course. I’ll show you where everything is in the kitchen, just as soon as I’ve seen to Gran.’

Evelyn left the study and as the door closed Gran opened her eyes. ‘She thinks Ovaltine helps me sleep at night,’ she whispered conspiratorially, ’but I haven’t noticed any difference.’

‘You’ll be better tonight, upstairs,’ John said from the end of the study. Gran started, having forgotten he was there.

‘It’s very kind of Evelyn, though,’ Gran added quickly, looking guilty. Mandy smiled.

Evelyn reappeared ten minutes later with the hot drink. Gran sat by the bed with the cup cradled in the palms of her hands and slowly sipped it. At nine o’clock Evelyn returned, took away the cup and saucer, and then reappeared almost immediately.

‘Bedtime now,’ Gran said stoically to Mandy. ‘It takes me a while to get ready and I need some help.’

Mandy stood aside as Evelyn helped Gran to her feet and on to the walking frame.

‘If only I had your youth,’ Gran said to Mandy. ‘Goodnight, love. See you in the morning. And thanks for staying.’

Mandy gave her a hug and kissed her cheek. ‘Night, Gran.’ She watched as Gran slowly crossed the study with Evelyn following, ready to assist if necessary.

John closed his laptop and set it on the coffee table. ‘I’ll give them a hand getting upstairs. Are you all right here alone, Mandy? I won’t be long.’

‘Yes, of course.’

The three of them left the study in a small slow procession as Mandy sat again by the bed and looked at Grandpa. On his back, with his jaw gaping in sleep, the only sound was that of his laboured breathing. Longevity didn’t really have much to recommend it, she thought, if it reduced you to this. Yet she had to admit that her grandparents had gained something special from growing old together; they had a lifetime of shared experiences and mutual support to look back on and draw strength from. Growing old with a loved one, Mandy thought, was far better than growing old alone – old age didn’t seem quite so threatening if you had someone to share it with.

Twenty minutes later John returned to the study and said Gran was in bed. ‘Evelyn’s in the kitchen, so if you’d like to go through she’ll show you where everything is now.’ He said it with a cocked eyebrow in a slightly disparaging tone as though he thought Evelyn was fussing unnecessarily, but should be indulged. It was a collusion Mandy had noticed him attempt with her before and, as before, she ignored it.

‘Thanks,’ she said lightly, and left the study.

The kitchen was huge, nearly as big as her entire bedsitting room, and was clearly brand new. ‘We’ve had it refurbished,’ Evelyn said proudly, standing in front of the disarming array of oak cupboards and granite work surfaces, which shone in the concealed lighting and seemed to go on for ever.

‘It’s lovely,’ Mandy said admiringly.

Evelyn smiled, pleased, and began opening and closing the cupboard doors, showing her where things were kept. ‘Tea, coffee, drinking chocolate and sugar, etc.,’ she said, ‘are here. Mugs, glasses, cups, here. The fridge and freezer are in here, and the dishwasher is here.’ Everything was behind an oak door – even the oven. ‘Help yourself to whatever you want,’ she said. ‘If you fancy a sandwich, the bread is here, or cake and biscuits here.’

‘Thank you,’ Mandy said again.

‘And upstairs,’ Evelyn continued, ‘I’ve sorted out some overnight things to see you through until your dad returns tomorrow with your own. I’ve put them in one of the guest rooms, which will be your room. If you come up now, I’ll show you, then I’ll go to bed. Are you sure you’re all right to stay up tonight?’

‘Positive. I don’t need much sleep.’

Evelyn smiled. ‘No, I didn’t at your age either.’ She led the way out of the kitchen up the stairs.

Mandy found she remembered going up the stairs from when she’d stayed as a child. It was a huge winding staircase with a small landing halfway up, and so unlike her staircase at her parents’. There was a window on the landing with a windowsill that had always contained a vase of fresh flowers. The vase was still there but without the flowers. Mandy remembered the polished brass handrail which she and Sarah had been told off for using as a slide. At the top of the stairs she followed Evelyn into a bedroom at the rear of the house, overlooking the gardens. Neatly folded on the bed was a set of towels, face flannel, soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, nightdress and two pairs of new pants.

‘Thank you very much,’ Mandy said, impressed that Evelyn had produced this at such short notice.

‘Thank you, for staying. It’s much appreciated. I’ll sleep better knowing John has your help. But for goodness’ sake wake me if I’m needed.’

‘I will,’ Mandy said, and then hesitated. She glanced around at the magnolia-emulsioned walls and flowered duvet. ‘Evelyn, is this the room I used to sleep in when I stayed as a child?’

Evelyn looked at her, clearly shocked. ‘No. You had the Pink Room, at the front of the house. Don’t you remember?’

‘No, not really.’

‘But, Mandy, you stayed with us regularly. How can you not remember? You were always here – weekends and school holidays. You and Sarah were inseparable between the ages of four and twelve. You’d turned thirteen the last time you came.’ She stopped as though suddenly realizing something and looked at her oddly.

Mandy gave a small shrug. ‘I know,’ she said carefully. ‘But my memory is very bitty. I have vague recollections of being in the house but no detail. I guess ten years is a long time.’

Evelyn held her gaze and Mandy could see that not only did her aunt not know what to say, but that she wasn’t sure whether to believe her.

‘I suppose it is,’ Evelyn conceded after a moment. ‘Anyway the guest bathroom is next door.’ With a brief air-kiss she said goodnight and quickly left.

Mandy crossed to the curtains and, parting them, looked out. This room was at the rear of the house; Evelyn had said the Pink Room was at the front. Although it was pitch dark outside she could see the upper terraces subtly lit by small round sunken lights. This view was unfamiliar whereas the view from the Pink Room would presumably be familiar from when she’d stayed as a child. The Pink Room, Evelyn had said, expecting her to remember it, and the name almost rang a bell. Almost. Somewhere in the crevices of her mind Mandy thought she had stayed in that room. Possibly. But at thirteen of course she should have remembered, and in detail. No wonder Evelyn had looked at her oddly. But apart from a vague feeling that she’d heard the name before, she could recall nothing else about it. And in the backwater of her mind an unsettling premonition told her it was better it stayed that way.

Nine

Mandy washed her face and brushed her teeth in the guest bathroom, and then went downstairs. Most of the main lights in the house were off now, and she guessed that while she’d been in the bathroom Evelyn or John had locked up for an early night. A single wall-light lit the landing at the top of the stairs, and a lamp on an onyx table lit the front hall. A light glowed in the porch and through the leaded light window of the front door Mandy could see the silhouette of a tree stirring eerily in the wind outside. Towards the back of the house, the rear hall was lit by a nightlight, and the doors to the morning room and dining room were closed. The kitchen door had been left open but the light was off, Mrs Saunders presumably having gone home. Mandy had never liked the dark, particularly in a strange house; as a child she’d imagined all sorts of ghoulies and ghosties lurking in the shadows. She’d slept with a lamp on in her room at university, and even for the first three months of living in her flat, despite the room never being dark because of the street lamp right outside her window.

The door to the study was closed. Giving a small knock, she turned the handle and gently eased open the door. Here, too, the main light was off, and she was surprised to find a red glow illuminating most of the room. It came from a lava lamp on a table in one corner. Mandy went in and silently closed the door behind her. Grandpa was asleep on his back, mouth open and breathing heavily. John was dozing in one of the armchairs. She quietly crossed the room, sat in the other armchair and looked across the room at the lamp. She hadn’t noticed the lava lamp during the day, presumably because it hadn’t been switched on. Its red glow now gave the room a strange, almost surreal hue. As she looked, a red bubble of oil in the lamp slowly elongated upwards and a smaller bubble appeared to the right. She was surprised her aunt and uncle had such a modern and popular (to the point of tacky) artefact amidst their antiques and hand-crafted reproduction furniture. It seemed incongruous.

Reaching down beside the chair into her bag, Mandy quietly slid out her mobile and checked for messages. There were three texts: one from a friend replying to her earlier text, one from her father staying he’d arrived home safely and would ‘c’ her tomorrow, and the third from Adam: ‘Luv n miss u 2. hugs n kisses. adam’. Mandy smiled to herself as she returned the phone to her bag. She’d been forgiven. Resting her head back she gazed at the lava lamp. The larger of the red bubbles of oil was still contorting upwards, becoming thinner and longer, while the smaller one was growing rounder and fatter. The trouble with lava lamps, she thought, was that your eyes were drawn to them, and you had to watch, whether you wanted to or not. Like a television left on with the sound off, it was difficult to look away or concentrate on anything else.

It was only 9.50 p.m. but with the early start and the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on all day it seemed much later and she felt pretty exhausted. Grandpa’s heavy and laboured breathing continued in the background; she saw his legs occasionally twitch beneath the sheets. She wondered if the medication was wearing off already. The nurse had come again at 8 p.m. and given him another injection, which also contained a sleeping draught and was supposed to see him through the night.

Tired, reasonably comfortable in the upholstered chair, and mesmerized by the swirling glow of the lamp and Grandpa’s almost hypnotic breathing, Mandy’s eyes slowly began to close. His breathing seemed louder now her eyes were shut, and with nothing else to concentrate on she found herself silently counting the seconds in the rhythm of his breathing. In – one, two, three, four, and then a pause of five seconds before he breathed out for three seconds. It was far, far slower than her own breathing – she’d taken nearly three breaths to his one. She assumed it was his medication slowing his body rhythm at the same time as it suppressed the pain. Counting the seconds of his breathing was as soporific as counting sheep and, combined with the warmth of the room, soon made her doze.

She was a child again, in this house, and looking out of a window at the front, looking down on the driveway below. She was in the Pink Room, so named because it was decorated pink. Mandy could see herself standing at the window and looking down on to the drive. It was late at night and very dark outside. A car was pulling away, leaving the house, its headlights illuminating the gravel ahead. It was her father’s car and there was someone in the back. As she watched, the girl with the ponytail turned to look at her, just as she had earlier that evening when she’d waved goodbye to her father. Tears streamed down the girl’s cheeks and Mandy could feel her terror and distress. ‘Help! Someone help me. Daddy, no!’