Page 108 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

Suddenly I’m glad John doesn’t know where his wife and kids live. For their sakes.

‘Okay,’ I say, calmly, as if my insides aren’t shaking. ‘I get it. Let me get my little girl settled and I’ll come find you.’

He shakes his head. ‘I’ll wait here.’

‘Okay,’ I say, again a nervous wobble creeping into my voice. ‘I’ll find you here, then.’

‘Don’t be long. Or I’ll come find you instead,’ he says with a wink.

I take Ellie by the hand and walk away. As soon as we turn the corner, I scoop her into my arms and run. I run through the corridor, past the table tennis table, where thankfully Millicent hasn’t found a partner, past an unmanned reception desk and out onto the street. I keep running until the shelter is out of view, and I run some more until my legs burn and my knees feel as if they are going to give way. Then I hail a taxi.

‘Greenway Road, please,’ I say, climbing in and preparing to spend whatever it costs to get the hell out of here.

FORTY-THREE

Ellie cries the whole journey. I try to comfort her, but my thoughts are scrambled and I’m not sure I’m even making any sense.

‘I love you. I love you so much,’ I tell her in a gentle whisper as if my love is all I can offer her, and I know she needs so much more.

‘Is she all right?’ the driver asks, glancing back at us in the rear-view mirror.

‘I’m not sure.’

He sets his eyes back on the road and I can tell he wasn’t expecting an honest answer.

The journey feels painfully long despite no traffic. I pay the driver and I scarcely give a thought to how much the fare depletes my savings. I’d have paid every penny I have to get Ellie and me out of there.

‘Whatever is wrong, love…’ he says, as I open the door. ‘She’ll be fine. Kids are resilient.’

‘Yeah,’ I say, wishing it was that simple.

I stand statue-still on the footpath, holding Ellie’s hand as I watch him drive away, then I take a deep breath and turn round to face Malcolm’s house.

The curtains are drawn, but there don’t seem to be any lights on inside. Nonetheless, I walk through the gate. Loose stone crackles under Ellie and me with each step, and I crane my neck towards the house, hoping to hear the sound of TV or radio. But the house is silent and still. I slide the porch door back and ring the bell. Moonlight shines on the wellies waiting inside the porch and a couple of tennis rackets have fallen face first on the ground. I wait for an answer but the house stays sleeping.

‘I’m cold,’ Ellie grumbles, pulling her hand out of mine so she can wrap her arms round herself to keep warm. We left the shelter in such a panic, neither of us have coats.

I ring the bell again, deflating more by the second. Nothing. I try again. Silence. I pull my phone out and call Shayne. Finally, I hear a noise. Shayne’s ringtone coming from an upstairs window.

‘Hello,’ I call out.

‘Hello,’ Ellie echoes.

‘Hello. Shayne,’ I try again, louder.

‘Shayne,’ Ellie says, louder too.

I begin shouting and waving my arms as I continue to let my phone ring. ‘Hello! Hello! Is anyone home?’

My voice is scratchy and breaks. I clear my throat and try again.

‘Shayne. Malcolm. Anyone! It’s Bea and Ellie. Please let us in.’

The curtain twitches and I hold my breath. Finally, Shayne’s face peeks through the gap.

‘Hey. Hey. Oh my God, hi.’ I wave, relief flooding my senses, and I’m instantly light-headed.

‘Bea,’ he mouths.

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