Don’t confide. Trust no one. Never allow yourself to get too close.
And the last time, when she ran away to university here in Brighton, she had fully intended to live by those rules. But then she met Charlie. Big, handsome Charlie, with his kind face and goofy smile.
Of course she was attracted to him, everybody was. But she had convinced herself that happiness wasn’t written into her storyline. So she told him no.
Over and over she declined his advances. And sometimes she even meant it. But he wouldn’t give up.
He followed her. He hounded her. She’d look up and there he’d be, grinning at her. She would pretend not to notice. She didn’t want to lead him on.
But he wore her down. Chipped away.
These days, snowflakes would probably call it stalking.
It’s hard being a loner. Being nineteen and watching everyone around you make new pals, form relationships. Meet their one. While the whole time, you isolate, you go home to an empty flat, you eat microwave meals alone.
So when one day in the library, Charlie asked her again to go for a drink, she thought, what the hell, why not?
They could be friends, she supposed, perhaps naively. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Peter had been unplanned. They weren’t even married at that point. A quick trip to the registry office soon fixed that. No fuss. No guests. Charlie’s parents had been furious.
Peter may not have been planned, but he was loved. Beth was overjoyed. She hadn’t ever factored children into her future. Didn’t dare. She had never known it was possible to love something as much. And then a few years later, when Daisy came along, Beth felt complete. She would sit and watch her family, her beautiful, perfect family, and she couldn’t believe how things had turned out. If you had told her seven-year-old self that she would have all this one day, she would never have believed it. There were times when self-doubt took over, and she convinced herself she didn’t deserve this life. But as time went on, she grew to accept that she just might.
Her mother warned her. ‘Don’t you ever have children, Kitty. You’re not the mothering kind.’
But her mother was wrong. Beth loved her kids. There was nothing that she wouldn’t do to protect them. She thought of Daisy, then glanced at the clock. 3pm.
If she left now, she might get to the school in time to see her before Charlie arrived.
Be able to talk to her. To touch her.
She grabbed her keys from the hall table, rushing out to the car.
* * *
When she pulled up outside the school gates, the usual array of mothers, and the odd father, were milling around. Some with dogs. Some in posh cars.
She parked up and sat, waiting.
Julia, Daisy’s friend’s mother was standing by the gate, chatting to another mum who Beth didn’t recognise.
Julia glanced up in Beth’s direction. Beth waved, smiling.
Julia didn’t wave back. She frowned, then turned away, whispering something to her companion. The woman turned, looking at Beth over her shoulder.
And so it begins, Beth thought.
She saw the kids starting to pile out into the playground, so she climbed out of her car, approaching the gate.
Daisy’s friend Isla came skipping up to Julia, who crouched down, enveloping her daughter in a huge hug.
‘Hi, Isla, hi, Julia!’ Beth shouted as she strolled towards them, beaming.
Julia straightened up. Taking Isla’s hand, she hurried off in the opposite direction without saying a word. The woman Julia had been talking to shuffled away from Beth.
‘Mummy!’
The sound of Daisy’s excited voice made Beth forget about the shun. She turned, smiling towards the playground. Daisy was hurtling at her, carrying a piece of paper. Her rucksack, almost as big as she was, bouncing around on her back.
‘I’ve missed you so much! Look! I did a picture of you. I put Cooper in it too, because I miss him as well.’
Beth crouched down and Daisy handed the masterpiece to her. Splodges of multicoloured paint adorned the crumpled sheet. The odd bit of glitter.
An artist, Daisy was not.
‘Are we going home, Mummy? I don’t like staying at Uncle Derek’s.’
‘No, love, I’ve come to say hello. Your dad will be here soon to pick you up.’
Daisy stuck out her bottom lip, folding her arms across her chest.
Beth glanced up. Groups of nervous parents, some who she knew, others she didn’t, were watching her warily. Holding their children close.
What did they think? That Beth would snatch one of their kids and run off with them? Maybe butcher them somewhere?
She straightened up, returning their stares. She would not be bullied. Not this time.
‘Hi, Mandy. How’s things?’ she shouted towards one group.
No response. An icy glare.
She noticed a father shoot her a look, before rushing across the playground into the school building.
Ignore them, Beth thought. It’s funny. That was the advice her mother had always given her as a kid. As if it was that easy.
Beth held her head high.
‘Daisy, I want you to promise me something.’
‘Yes, Mummy?’
‘Whatever you might hear, if people say things about me, bad things, promise me you will always remember that Mummy loves you, very, very much. And nothing will ever change that. Okay?’
‘Are you all right, Mummy? You look sad.’
Beth lowered herself beside her daughter again, and Daisy placed a hand on her shoulder gently, melting her heart.
‘I’m fine, darling. Just promise me.’
‘I promise. I love you too.’
Daisy hugged Beth and her heart felt as if it were splitting in two.
‘Excuse me, Mrs Carter, may I have a word please?’
Beth straightened to see Mrs Everson, the headmistress, rushing in her direction across the playground. The father who had no doubt reported her, skulked away back to his family, not daring to look at Beth.
‘Daisy, why don’t you go and play? Daddy will be here soon
