THE HAUNTING OF BEA NEVILLE

Chapter 4

Sleep evaded Helen.

Tom had rung Helen before sunrise with detailed instructions where she could take Bea. In the meantime, she'd raced around the house throwing only the essentials into any bag she could get her hands on. Within forty-five minutes, supermarket carrier bags, bin liners and tired looking suitcases had been hauled into the back of the car.

Head south, Tom told her. Even the thought of heading south had her skin prickling. She'd spent the last decade heading and staying north.

With car keys in hand and a lump in her throat, Helen took a deep breath and knocked on Bea's door.

"Bea?"

No answer.

"Bea. Bea, wake up."

Still nothing.

There wasn't time for this. Helen braced herself and went straight into Bea's room. Something she hadn't dared do in years. Heading straight for the window, Helen flung open the curtains allowing a gentle, winter-white glow to infiltrate inside.

"What are you doing?" Bea groaned into her pillow.

"I want you up, showered, dressed and downstairs in half an hour."

"I don't think-"

"Don't you dare argue with me, lady. Not today. I do not have the time nor the patience for it. Do you understand? Get ready. Now."

"Is something wrong?" For a brief moment, Helen saw Bea's hard mask melt away. For a brief moment, she was that vulnerable child again before she started seeing the other.

"No. We're going to meet Tom," she forced a smile. "He's been working away for a while and he can't come home yet so I thought we'd go to him. I...we thought it would be nice."

It was a cheap trick to play. Bea adored Tom. Probably because when he was home, he gave her the strict boundaries Helen failed to enforce. Even though he was not her biological father, out of the two of them, he was the better parent. Whatever the reason, it worked a treat. Bea was in the front seat of her car, wrapped in her new navy coloured winter coat with a thick grey-fur lined hood, within the hour.

"How long are we going away for?"

"A while. A few days, a week perhaps longer. I'm not sure."

Bea glanced sideward at Helen. "Why are you being weird?"

"I'm not being weird."

"I was meant to do a kick-boxing competition. One of the trainers asked me last night."

"Were you? You never said." Pulling away from the house, Helen was thankful most of the latest snow-dumping had melted leaving only dirty slush behind. "See? This is what I mean, Bea. I want you to talk to me. I'd love it if we talked."

Bea gazed out of the window taking in what remained of the snow dripping from rooftops as the car trundled carefully down the road.

"So, are you going to tell me about this Sam?" Helen edged the words out with care. She could feel the daggers Bea shot her without even looking. She felt cruel, knowing Bea would never return to Brodsworth, the place they had called home for the last four years. The friends, not that she knew if Bea had any, would not make an appearance in her life again.

"Are we seriously doing this?"

"We're going to be in the car together a while so yes, we're doing this."

Bea sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "He's just a boy I know."

Helen changed gear as they broke out of the town and hit the open road. Say goodbye Bea. Say goodbye. "Does he go to your school?"

"Oh god," Bea moaned. "Here we go. No."

"Oh. He's from kickboxing class then?"

"No. If you must know he is twenty-four and he is in a rock band."

"Twenty-four?" Helen's voice was increasing pitch with every syllable. "Twenty-four? Bea you're seventeen!"

"Very nearly eighteen, a legal adult."

"Oh my god! Bea, have you had sex with him?"

A dazzling flash lit up the grey sky in front of them.

Bea lurched forward. "Mum! Look out!"

The car screeched violently as Helen smashed her foot on the brake. Too late. The car skidded, gaining speed and mounted the curb smashing into a wall.