have come to see what the shouting was. She gave the situation one glance and turned on Jimmy. 'That's it. You've caused enough trouble. Go and pack your things right now.'
Mummy jumped up. 'Gail, listen to me. It wasn't
Jimmy's fault. He's the one who's been causing trouble.' She pointed at Mr Mullen, who was struggling theatrically to his feet, a reddening handkerchief clasped to his nose. 'Do you know what he said to me yesterday? He came up to me for no reason at all and said he was watching me.'
'Don't interfere.' Gail wasn't even looking at her. 'You wouldn't be staying either, if it wasn't for Anna's sake.'
'What do you mean?' Mummy's voice was suddenly squeaky as chalk on a blackboard. 'What do you mean, for Anna's sake?'
Gail looked sadly into her eyes. 'Just don't ask, Liz.'
Jimmy was striding away down the corridor, his shoulders hunched up. Even if Anna ran after him, he wouldn't help her now. She'd lost her chance. But there was something worse: Gail knew how mummy had changed, and yet she wasn't going to help Anna. Anna's legs were shuddering, once more she felt as if she was about to wet herself. Gail had made mummy angrier, but she wouldn't save Anna. Nobody would.
Forty-four
'Just don't ask, Liz,' Gail said – and all at once Liz didn't need to. She remembered her saying, 'People who hate their children need help,' and then she knew why Gail had let her stay. Gail was keeping her where she could see her, watching and waiting until Liz did something she could report to the police, the social workers, Isobel. She glared at Gail until her eyes burned, then she dragged Anna upstairs to the room. No doubt Gail could see how she was squeezing the child's arm. Let her try to interfere if she dared.
She gave the bedroom door a slam that must have resounded through the hotel, and pushed Anna into the room so violently that the child fell on the bed. Anna huddled there and watched Liz fearfully. She'd better be afraid – if it hadn't been for her Jimmy wouldn't have been sacked – Jimmy, the only person Liz had felt at ease with in the hotel. By God, if Anna could make things worse, she would. Everything that had gone wrong for Liz in the last few months, everything Anna had done, seemed to be gathering in Liz's skull, an unbearable weight that was growing like a tumour, crushing her mind. There was something she could do to lift that weight, if only she could think – something she must do before her mind burst. Perhaps she could do it without thinking.
That idea seemed promising, but it didn't tell her what to do. She couldn't go home, in case the thing that had driven her out was still there. There was nobody she could consult or take refuge with; there was nowhere she could go, especially in this fog. She was trapped where Gail could spy on her, with the pressure in her head growing steadily worse, impossible to disobey but equally impossible to interpret. She felt sticky, crawling with heat. At least there was something to do, then. 'Take your clothes off,' she said.
Anna stared fearfully at her, almost cowering. 'Do as I say,' Liz cried. 'All of them.'
She glared at the child until Anna began to unbutton her blouse, sobbing dryly and trembling. Anna made it look as if she was no longer capable of manipulating the buttons, as if she weren't old enough to know how to handle them. Liz watched her, loathing her babyishness. How could she once have loved and been proud, of this child?
Eventually Anna had almost finished. She pulled off her socks and sat shivering in her pants. 'Those as well,' Liz said, and when she didn't stand up, moved towards her. Anna dragged them off for fear that Liz was going to, and sat quickly on the bed again, trying to hide herself behind her limbs. 'Give them here,' Liz said.
Anna gathered her clothes from the bed and passed them over, almost dropping them rather than touch her mother. When she tried to give Liz her shoes as well, Liz said, 'Don't be stupid. I can't wash them, can I?' Then she undressed swiftly and washed all the clothes in the bathroom.
As she hung them over the bath, she realized that Anna must have thought Liz was making her undress so that she couldn't run away. It wasn't such a bad idea at that, except that she wouldn't put it past the child to run out naked -one more thing for everyone to blame Liz for. What if she was planning to do so? But when Liz ran back into the bedroom, Anna was lying on the bed, clenched foetally about herself. Perhaps she'd only just adopted that pose, in order to disguise her intentions. Liz shoved a chair against the outer door and sat there. Anna needn't think of getting past her now.
In time the dripping of clothes in the bathroom slowed, grew less rhythmic. Liz sat and couldn't think for the pressure in her head. It seemed to, have stabilized now, almost as if it were waiting. The corridors were silent, the chambermaids had finished hours ago. She was alone up here, alone as the mad wife in the Victorian novel who'd been locked in the topmost room.
Sitting idly was making her tired, and she was nodding. It didn't matter if she dozed, Anna couldn't move her. She was almost sleepy enough to realize what Anna looked like, what the sight of the naked body lying on a white surface reminded her of: an altar? A butcher's? Now and then, as she jerked awake, she realized she was naked too and felt as if she were being watched. But only the fog was nuzzling the window. Surely this was one place where they couldn't spy on her.
She jerked awake, thinking she'd heard stealthy footsteps outside the door. She strained her ears, but could hear nothing. Was somebody standing out there, trying to overhear what she might be doing to Anna? Let them try. A harsh smell was seeping into the room, but that must be the fog. Her nostrils wrinkled at the smell as her head sank again, drawn down into sleep.
It was her own smell. She could tell that from the way people drew back from her as she padded through the hotel. The hotel was much larger and older – the pillars in the dining-room were so tall that the ceiling was lost in darkness – but that wouldn't prevent her from finding Anna: there was nowhere in the world the child could hide from her. Diners peered at her from their islands of light, but the candles on the tables were guttering; now she could see only the glint of eyes and teeth. For a moment she thought she'd lost Anna after all, until she realized that she wasn't alone in the hunt. One of the Labradors from Gail's party was running with her; she could hear it snuffling. A woman at one of the tables leaned forward confidentially just as all the candles went out, and said, 'I used to hear that too.' Liz knew she was Joanna Marlowe, but it seemed unimportant, for Anna was running towards her out of the dark now, and the snuffling was close at her heels. When Liz grabbed her she felt small, too small, and utterly helpless. She was a baby again. Liz was on the edge of remembering how it had felt to hold her baby when she woke.
The memory was gone at once, for she could see Anna, the real Anna, staring at her from the bed, staring as if she wished that Liz would never wake. How dare she look at her like that! Liz stumbled to her feet, and was satisfied to see the child cower back. Why were they both naked? When she remembered why, she found that she was shivering. The clothes were dry enough. She bunched Anna's in one hand and flung them at her. 'Get dressed,' she said.
Soon Liz was dressed, traces of damp making her clothes cling to her. She couldn't stand the child's look. 'What's wrong with you?' she cried.
The child looked afraid to open her mouth, but managed to mumble, 'I'm hungry, mummy.'
'Are you, mummy.' It enraged her that the child should dare to call her that now, after all that she'd done. Outside the window the fog was darkening; she hadn't realized she'd slept so long. 'Well, we shall go down,' she said, almost to herself, 'because I'm hungry, and I'm damned if I'll let them stop me from eating.'
She gave Anna a look to make sure she didn't try anything, then she unlocked the door. The corridors were deserted, the rooms were silent; on the second floor a child was beginning to wail. Gail was hurrying back to the reception desk after alerting the child's parents. She gazed at Liz, but said nothing. Liz strode past, ignoring her.
She faltered when she reached the dining-room. It was so dark in there – was dinner over already? She felt achingly ravenous all of a sudden; she didn't know what she'd do if she didn't get something to eat soon. Then she realized that there were people in the dark, that it wasn't quite dark after all. The Marshalls must have decided to take the guests' minds off the fog by having a candlelit dinner. It reminded her of her dream, but at least people wouldn't be able to spy on her any more. She made her way through the dim maze of tables and hovering faces, gripping Anna's shoulder in case she thought of slipping away in the dark.
