‘What if I am?’ Hattie asked quietly. ‘I am absolutely, heartbreakingly desperate that these girls get a chance to heal from the terrible things that they’ve been through. I can’t tell you what they’re dealing with, because despite Michelle having no respect for her daughter’s confidentiality, I do. But I promise you that if it was your niece, Maya…’ she turned from Kalani to Laurie ‘…or Flora… then you would do whatever it took to get them any help you could. And however much you might poke fun at what I do here, you know that I’m good at it, and it works. If nothing else, then just those girls knowing that somebody cares and that they aren’t facing this horror alone will make a difference.’
‘You could try talking to Michelle,’ Deirdre suggested. ‘Explain what happened, and that there’s no way you’d allow a teenage girl to get undressed.’
‘I can. And I will. But if my own best friends pooh-pooh my work here. When the people who know me most in the world don’t trust me to help them deal with their issues… you know that this gossipy, pernickety village listens to you Gals. And, well. I’m not going to beg.’
‘Is Amber Jackson signed up?’ Laurie asked, her face tight with tension. ‘I know Marnie and Doug are at their wits’ end with how to help her after what that man did. They’re talking about a secure unit if she tries to… you know… one more time.’
‘You know I can’t answer that,’ Hattie said, but she didn’t bother to wipe away the tear now trickling down her face.
‘Come on, Gals.’ Deirdre folded her arms. ‘Hattie needs help here. All it’s going to cost us is a few evenings. That is right, isn’t it? Because you know I’m beyond skint right now, Hattie.’
‘All my courses are free of charge,’ Hattie said, a glimmer of hope in her voice.
‘Laurie, you said it yourself, our friend’s reputation is hanging in the balance. Remember when that rumour was going around about you accidentally poisoning everyone at the Christmas market? Hattie filmed herself eating your mince pies and posted it all over social media. Your sales tripled in two days.’
‘You did save my business,’ Laurie admitted. ‘Thanks again, Hattie.’
‘You’re more than welcome.’ Hattie patted her hand.
‘And, Kalani, you didn’t have a single friend for a whole year when you moved here. Everyone was intimidated by your London fashion and snarky sarcasm. They had you pegged as a snooty cow. Now look at you, Ms Chair of the Middlebeck Fete Committee. More coffee dates than the characters inFriends. I heard you’ve been meeting Tye Devon for dinner. If Hattie hadn’t purposely sat you at her table at the school auction, you’d still be in your swanky house watching Netflix alone.’
‘I won’t do anything weird.’ Kalani narrowed her eyes. ‘Or discuss anything personal.’
‘Of course.’ Hattie’s voice was breezy, but the way she looked Kalani right in the eyes and offered a discreet nod said that she’d heard the tremor of fear behind Kalani’s bravado, and she promised to be careful with it. ‘Sophie, you’ll join us for a few art sessions, won’t you?’
‘Um…’
‘I’ve got a brilliant idea. How about a taster this afternoon? If after that you aren’t interested, then no pressure, subject closed, I’ll find another way to save the Shine course.’
‘How long will it take?’ Laurie asked, still not convinced. ‘I need to call in to Dad’s later on.’
‘Twenty minutes?’ Hattie shrugged. ‘Maybe a little longer if you really get into it. You never know, it might be fun.’
* * *
‘Fun’ was not the word I’d have used to describe us, an hour and a half later, as we huddled around Kalani, currently crumpled on a beanbag in the studio, sobbing her eyes out.
‘You’re a frickin’ witch, Hattie Hood!’ She gasped, burying her head in Laurie’s soft shoulder. ‘I haven’t cried about this since the day it happened.’
‘Because you haven’t talked about it?’ Deirdre asked, gently patting Kalani’s back.
‘Because I’ve tried not tothinkabout it! Let alone make it into a bloody collage after quaffing half a bottle of wine.’
‘To be fair, Hattie didn’t make you choose that particular person,’ Laurie said, stroking her hair.
Kalani sat up, wiping her nose on the tissue I offered her. ‘No, but she said there was no point doing it if we weren’t going to be honest, and, apart from my dad, he was the man who’s influenced my life the most. Partly because, since him, I’ve never given another man that kind of power.’
‘Who is he?’ Deirdre asked.
We all looked at Kalani’s collage, which she’d made following Hattie’s prompt to create something depicting a man who’d had a major impact on us. I’d spent an hour cutting pictures out of magazines and sticking the tiny pieces on a sheet of card, trying to capture Ezra. I’d made a huge heart with lots of pinks and purples, a wide white smile surrounded by a jumble of toys, household items and flowers (not roses!) to represent his chaotic home. Driving out of the middle of the page I stuck a motorhome, and then added a length of string to show how the motorhome was still connected to Ezra, no matter where it travelled.
Kalani had ripped up several sheets of tissue paper. She’d glued a rainbow of scrunched-up colours around the outside, then started coiling them towards the middle, gradually adding in the odd piece of black, then increasing the black as she worked inwards, until the centre of the page was a three-inch square of black tissue paper. Right in the centre of that was a circle of crumpled red, and on top of that she’d stuck a picture of a knife.
‘Because what he did to me felt like being sliced in two,’ she’d said, when we’d sat in a beanbag circle to share our artwork, and Deirdre had casually asked what the knife meant. ‘Not physically. Into two Kalanis. Before and After.’
Then she’d suddenly started to howl. And I mean the kind of howl that sounded as if she were being sliced in half all over again. The hairs on my arms sprang up. Once it petered into a haunting silence, she spent the next fifteen minutes silently sobbing.
Deirdre asked her question again. ‘Who is this man?’
