Letters to Scarlet Rose

By Sally-Anne Smith

'I always thought that if I lost my mind I would do it beautifully and tragically like Esther Greenwood in the Bell Jar, but it turns out I'm more of an Annie Wilkes from Misery, all paranoia and erratic rage.'

Maddie's life has been both a blessing and a curse. She has a successful career she adores. She is surrounded by people she loves who love her in return. And she has experienced losses that few could bear. But everyone has their tipping point and Maddie is no different. The question is, how far can she be pushed? 

 

Three lives, three truths. Whose side would you be on?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sally-Anne Smith
• Release date: Feb 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781656678843

Book preview

Chapter one

Everything about this moment was a disappointment of astronomical proportions.

Madeleine Knighton drew in what was supposed to be a deep cleansing breath that ultimately ended up being at least three quarters smog and tried to find some semblance of joy or relief in the scene unfolding around her.

Joy, she realised, wasn’t going to make itself known. Because the ugly truth was that her dress was sticking to her in places it shouldn’t, her feet and ankles looked like deformed marshmallows and her nausea had ramped up tenfold. And Rob wasn’t here.  There was nothing to be joyous about. Well, not nothing. If she wasn’t utterly alone and feeling like a Dali concept made flesh she’d probably be delirious right now but neither of those scenarios held true. And as for relief? That wasn’t even worth thinking about. In six months time maybe, but not now.

She cast a hesitant eye over the driver in the waiting taxi as he rested his arm on the passenger seat headrest and watched her approach through the open window. Beads of sweat were beginning to congregate on his forehead and the underarms of his shirt were already saturated. The damp stains looked gross but he had to have at least showered Maddie thought, given that all she could smell was Kouros, her dad’s favourite aftershave. The scent wafted out from the cab in her direction. Tried to slap her back into the past as she peered into the open window.

‘Maddie Knighton? Going to Blackfriars?’ The driver glanced at the screen on his mobile phone and back to her.

‘That’s me.’

‘Hop in then.’  He nodded for her to get into the car and gazed directly ahead, running his forefinger across his bottom lip until the sound of her seatbelt clicking into place punctured the silence and he pulled away from St Thomas’ Hospital and out onto Westminster Bridge Road.  

‘There’s roadworks on the approach to the bridge and then on the bridge itself. Just to warn you. One hell of a delay. Dunno how many sets of lights they’ve got up there.’

‘Okay, no problem.’ Maddie tugged at the blue polka dot material that clung between her legs then pulled a bundle of leaflets from her bag. Daubed in primary colours with outdated shots of the nuclear family and short snappy titles they did nothing to inspire: Diet During Pregnancy: A Guide to a Healthy Lifestyle; Relationships During Pregnancy; Exercise During Pregnancy: Dos and Don’ts; Pregnancy Complications: The Need for Early Screening.

She shoved the leaflets back in her bag and watched as the approach to Blackfriars Bridge crept into view. There would be plenty of time to think about all possible worst-case scenarios.  It was something she excelled at so it wouldn’t take her long to compile a full and frank catalogue. She’d probably be able to list a few potential disasters the health professionals hadn’t even thought of. Yes, a few days of ignorant bliss would be a good thing.

‘Just there you’re headed is it? The Montgomery Building?’  Maddie looked up as the driver pointed a lazy finger towards the other side of the bridge.  

‘That’s right.’

‘Not gonna be cheap. All this waiting around and gettin’ nowhere.’

‘That’s OK. I don’t mind.’

‘Your money.’  He shrugged as the engine shut itself off. So near yet so far but there was no way she was going to walk. Throwing up in public was not an option. The first set of temporary lights flipped to green. The taxi driver pumped the accelerator, bringing the engine back to life and shot forwards.  Maddie closed her eyes and tried to ignore the wave of nausea that rushed through her.

‘Shit!’ The driver slammed his foot down on the brake pedal. Maddie’s eyes flew open as the tyres screeched beneath her, fought the command to maintain a straight line. The cab lurched forward a few inches, tipped forwards and righted itself as it came to a violent halt. Instinctively placing one hand around the seatbelt that ran over her stomach as she grabbed onto the door handle to steady herself, praying that the seatbelt wouldn’t slice her in two.

‘Oi! Look where you’re going! Idiot!’

She followed the driver’s line of sight to a young woman he had only narrowly avoided hitting. She was wearing a faded red hoodie that was far too thick for the temperatures that had been promised. The dark jeans she wore were flared and she was wearing bright pink converse high tops, a tasselled tan suede bag hanging diagonally across her body. She looked like she’d just popped in from the seventies. It suited her Maddie thought, a little enviously, as the woman popped up onto the pavement and spun round on the ball of her foot to look back at the cab. Not at the driver which was to have been expected Maddie supposed but directly at her.

The woman’s face was partially obscured by her long brown hair which was gently dancing across her face in the rising breeze that drifted from the Thames, her eyes hidden by large dark glasses. Maddie stared back at the reflection of the car in the woman’s lenses and then at the writing pad the woman was clutching in her arms that was identical to hers. She has good taste, Maddie smiled to herself as the car inched forward ever so slightly and the moment was broken. Between one second and the next the woman had disappeared into the crowds.

‘You alright love? You look a bit green.’

‘I’m fine thanks.’ Maddie waved her hand dismissively, tried to keep her tone light and airy.

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah. That was close though.’

‘Should have been paying more attention. Daft cow. Bloody lights have changed now.’

‘Well, as long as we get there in one piece.’

‘Might be a while yet. Looks like they just closed the road completely for some reason. Hopefully won’t be too long.’

‘That’s okay. I have things to do.’ Maddie ran a reassuring hand over her belly, pulled her own copy of the journal and her silver Parker pen out of her bag and began to write.

Chapter two

Wednesday 11 th July 2017

Baby mine, 

The fact that you are in possession of this journal either means that I’ve deemed you old enough to read it or that you’ve been snooping around the house while my back is turned. Or perhaps, to put a slightly morbid spin on it, I am no longer residing on this planet and you have unwittingly stumbled upon it whilst sorting through my possessions. I hope that the latter is not the case but, whatever the reason, before you begin reading I want to help you recreate this single point in time in your mind’s eye, this point being the precise moment at which I picked up a pen and started writing my first letter to you. 

We are currently sat in the back of a London cab stuck in an endless stream of traffic that has come to a complete halt on Blackfriars Bridge. We’re heading towards my office which, frustratingly, I can see from here but my guess is it’s going to be an age before we get there. Which is why I’ve decided to start writing in here now. While we are still alone and you are still a secret and I have space to think. Besides which, all the things I want to say are in my head this very minute and I know that if I don’t get them straight onto the page, I’ll lose the majority of them. My brain is like candy floss right now but it’s a cross I’m more than happy to bear even if it’s frustrating the crap out of everyone else. Sorry. Mental note. Must not swear in here. Swearing is something that should be used sparingly or it loses all meaning. And therein lies your first lesson in life. Use it well. 

I confess I am somewhat distracted. The taxi driver is drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and I know he’d like to suggest that walking would be quicker so he can turn tail and flee from this static hell, but I also know that he won’t. After all, he’s just collected me from the hospital. The way he’s scrutinising me in the rear-view mirror suggests he’s also very aware of my slightly green complexion. I can’t help but wonder what he fears most, my throwing up before we reach our destination or the can of worms he could be opening if he were to engage me in conversation and ask if I’m feeling OK. I wish he would ask. Then I could tell him that I’m fine. I could tell him that I’m having a baby. I could tell him that I’m having you. 

So, I decided to buy this diary. I got it in a fancy stationery shop, the contents of which I covet for some strange reason every time I pass it. The cotton letter paper in there is just divine but seeing as I haven’t written a letter this decade and probably not the decade before that... Anyway, the diary covers two calendar years, as does your journey and arrival (just). I’m nothing if not prepared.

I thought I would use it as a journal to document every stage of your development. I’ll tell you about the family you are to be born into and one day, when you’re old enough I hope you’ll want to sit down and read about how you grew to become the person you are. And I want to show you how excited we are to be welcoming you into the world.

I’ll add stuff in here about me, your father and your grandparents and our wider family and friends. And as much as it might dampen the mood, I’ll keep all the ugly things in here too. It would be fair to say we’ve had our fair share of ups and downs as a family. Someday you will have to face your own challenges. I hope that I’ll still be here for you, but when that day comes and if I’m not around maybe there will be things in here that can guide you instead. You’ll have my words even if you don’t have my voice.

I’ll make a note of the places we’ve been on holiday, birthdays and Christmases and all your adventures and I’ll add photos which will both embarrass and make you laugh in equal measure. I’ll make a note of all the funny things that you do or say and all your big achievements like your first tooth, first step, first day at school and so on. Cannot wait to start this journey with you!

Love you already! 

Mum x

Chapter three

To Love You From Afar (for R.E.K)

The meet cute. 

That pinpoint in time when the heart is compelled to awaken the soul.

When all the unknowns become known.

When someone sees you in ways no-one ever saw you before. 

She never saw you. Not really.

But I do.

We have witnessed love in all its guises you and I.

In book club we read poems that stirred our hearts with the thought of it.

In film club we watched those thoughts become flesh and we craved it.

At night we drank and sang songs that eulogised it.

Wove melodies around our deepest desires.

Together but apart we built castles in the air.

Stitched together blankets from those dreams that warmed the blood and the heart.

But you saw only her.

All the poems you read to her.

All the songs you sang to her.

All the lust that played out before our eyes you emulated with her.

Does she protect your dreams and warm your heart my love?

Or does she leave you feeling cold?

Our stars were not aligned before.

Our eyes never met.

But our time is here now.

No longer will I love you from afar.

Turn around and you will find me.

Turn around and see me love.

I am waiting for you.

I am here.

TOO CLOSE.

It could only have been a matter of seconds between me closing my notepad and catching a glint of something out of the corner of my eye. And then the sound of the horn that scared the crap out of anyone within a 50-foot radius and humiliated me in the process.

‘Oi! Look where you’re going! Idiot!’

I could have tried to put on an indignant expression. Could have tried to make it look as though it were the cab driver at fault but anyone who had caught what had happened would have seen that that wasn’t true. Kicking off, as much as I might have wanted to just out of sheer embarrassment, would have served no other purpose than make me look like a complete dick.

Too close.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I turn and move onto the pavement. Not that the traffic can move anywhere but it seems like the sensible thing to do.  It’s what a rational person would do. My curiosity gets the better of me and I turn to look at her again. Watching her I’m not sure if she’s staring at me or at the notepad in my hand.  Not so dissimilar, I imagine her thinking. I’m in the cab, you’re almost being hit by it and our mutual love of good quality stationary is something strong between us. We’re not so different you and me. I should have apologised to the cab driver. That too would have been a normal person’s response.  But instead I choose to just stare.  

It seems like an age before the lights change and the cab is able to slide slowly forwards. I let the crowd consume me. Let the driver forget me as he undoubtedly will, certain that I will slip from the consciousness of his passenger almost as quickly before I begin to follow the car.  Once I’ve melted into the crowd things will be easier. I get in line behind a couple of elderly women who would normally annoy the hell out of me they’re walking so slowly but today this is perfect. I remove my hoodie revealing the navy blue vest beneath, stick my hair up in a scrunchie, take off my sunglasses so I can blend a little more easily and I plod at a pace I am ridiculously uncomfortable with.

I pretend to glance across the river, look studiously towards the railway lines, old and new, as I pass the cab and inspect its contents. She’s already staring straight through me as she taps her pen on her lower lip and I can’t help but wonder what she’s writing to her unborn child that could actually require thinking about so studiously. Or why one would need to spend such an extortionate amount of money on a notebook. I would never have grabbed a copy if I had realised it would practically cost me a days wages. Not that it was the worse decision. Grabbing that journal saved precious seconds. Got me into the queue directly behind her.

‘I’m writing a diary for my baby.’ She grinned. ‘Well, it’s more a series of letters really I suppose.’

She beams as the simpleton of a shop assistant congratulates her with a pathetically inane grin and Maddie tells her all about how her husband doesn’t know yet and he’s away on business and how happy he’ll be. The shop assistant is clueless so I try not to be overly damning of her reaction. But if she knew. If she knew what a fraudster Mrs Knighton is. If she knew how she coasts through life like a vampire, sucking the lifeblood out of anyone that comes near her. If she knew how she steals love from those that truly deserve it she wouldn’t be offering out congratulations. She’d be turning her back on her. Now that I would willingly pay a days to see.

I keep in time with the car, quickening and slowing with the ebbs and flows of the traffic until we reach the other end of the bridge and the car slows and comes to a gradual halt outside of her office.  I stand back, hide behind one of the trees on Victoria Embankment like a shitty 1970s detective as she offers the fakest of smiles to the cab driver, crams her journal into her knockoff Fendi bag and heads towards the entrance to the building. Seconds later she’s disappeared from view.

‘Pretentious bitch.’  I lower my head. Try to ignore the looks my comment triggers in those passing me by.

Careful now. Wouldn’t want to look completely crazy. The truth is I’m exhausted. I can’t have had more than ten hours sleep over the last couple of days. But the lack of sleep has enabled me to catch up on all the events so I guess it’s worth it. Just need to get through the working day now without making a complete tit of myself.

I smile to myself as I duck into an alleyway that takes me further into the heart of the city and I feel the smile pull across my face. It’s really only been days since I saw him, but knowing he’ll be back in the morning. I can’t wait.

Chapter four

Air conditioning. It had to be mankind’s finest hour. Maddie Knighton toyed with the notion as she crept forward at a snail’s pace, waiting for the doors to revolve slowly round and throw her out into the foyer of her office complex. Forget fire or the wheel. If she were to be asked the same question a hundred times over her answer wouldn’t change. Unless it was Christmas perhaps. If it was Christmas then she might say Baileys. Or After Eights. Or pigs in blankets. Or a gingerbread latte. Coffee. Her stomach roiled at the thought of it, even the memory of the smell enough to induce the thought of throwing up, to trigger her salivary glands into action.

She took a quick glance at the lift and decided against it. There had definitely been enough rocking motion for one day. Silently begging the contents of her stomach to remain in situ she grabbed hold of the banister and slowly pulled herself up the stairs to the second floor, forcing her office door open with such vigour it was only the tension in the hinge that prevented the handle from slamming into the glass wall.

Oblivious to the disaster she’d narrowly avoided she dropped into her seat and revelled in the refrigerated air that washed over her. It chilled the sweat that dampened her skin as it brushed by. Made the hairs on her arms prickle in reply. That was one good thing about summer she supposed. It lightened the hairs on her arms. Made her feel a little less like a gorilla.  

‘Can someone crank the air-con up? I swear to God I’m melting from the inside out.’

‘By someone I assume you mean me? And you’re not melting child.’ Daluchi Usman got up from her chair and moved towards the thermostat. Here it comes... ‘And if you stop taking the Lord’s name in vain young lady you might have a better chance of not needing air conditioning in the afterlife.’ And there it is.

‘Right. Sorry Dal. Please don’t give me the stink eye.’ Maddie groaned as the fan kicked into action.

‘It’s not my stink eye, as you call it, that you need to worry about.’

'I hear you. She's got eyes everywhere.’ Maddie flashed her PA a rebellious grin. ‘Reckon it’s going to be a scorcher today.’

‘It’s already too hot for me dove. I decided to take the tube this morning. Worst mistake I ever made. People dropping like flies down there, and no wonder, given how they pack us into the carriages. If I was supposed to live my life like a sardine the good Lord would’ve had me be born as a fish!’ Dal scowled as Maddie tried to hide her laughter behind a cough. ‘And some people still haven’t figured out how to use soap and water. Disgusting if you ask me. Going about stinking like that in this day and age.’ She carried on mumbling something unintelligible under her breath as she went back to her seat, sorted the papers in front of her and placed half of them in front of Maddie. 'Anyway, I thought you were off today. Rob’s back, isn’t he?’

‘Flight was cancelled so he’s stuck in New York. Technical problems which was all I needed to know frankly. Rearranged flight takes off around seven-thirty tonight, their time, so he should be home in the morning. I’ll be off tomorrow now instead.’

‘Maddie, you’ve got more leave than you know what to do with. You could easily have taken both days.’

‘I’d have been bored out of my skull and you know it. I thought I'd pop in and go through the application forms with you instead. Share the burden and all that.’

‘Mrs Knighton, I’m just going to pop back to my desk and get my cardigan. I won’t be a second.’

‘Cardigan?’ Maddie opened one eye and glanced over at Vicky, the new editorial assistant who appeared to have been sitting next to her all along and had somehow managed to go completely unnoticed. ‘You can't be cold, surely?’

‘It’s freezing in here.’ Vicky smiled nervously as she stood from the table.

‘It really isn’t.’ Maddie gave Vicky the once over from her singular open envious eye. Vicky, with her wide-eyed innocent smile, flawless skin, minimal make-up and perfectly coiffed hair. She was wearing a boob-tube that seemed to defy gravity in a way that hers never did when she was young enough to get away with wearing them. No wonder she was cold. The girl didn’t have an ounce of flesh on her. Lucky bitch.

‘Sure.’ Maddie waved her hand dismissively. ‘Actually, you can leave this to me and Dal. We're good from here. Thanks Vicky. And call me Maddie, please.’

‘No worries.’ Vicky swiftly made for the door. ‘Are you OK? You look ever so pale.’

‘I decided to try this three-day detox diet everyone’s talking about. This is what you look like when you cut caffeine and sugar out of your life.’

‘But that’s my entire diet!’ Vicky laughed, oblivious to Maddie’s scowl. On the surface at least. She was probably lapping it up inside. Except she wouldn’t be, Maddie thought, because Vicky was funny and sweet and everyone worshipped the ground that she walked on. ‘Anything I can get you Maddie? A glass of water or something?’ Guilt seeped into Maddie’s bones.

‘No, I'm good Vicky. Thank you.’ She watched as Vicky made a swift shivering exit from her office and forced herself upright in her chair, grabbing hold of the pile of paper that Dal had placed in front of her.

‘Shall I get you some ginger tea?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Ginger tea. I seem to recall it making a world of difference last time. Won’t stop you being all hormonal and tetchy but you might feel a little less nauseous.’ Maddie glanced up from her papers.

‘Nothing gets by you does it?’

‘I’ve known you for nearly a decade. Plus, I have the memory of an elephant.’

‘But not the backside.’

‘But not the backside.’ Dal’s expression softened. ‘Does the hospital know your history?’

‘Every gory detail.’

‘And do they have any advice?’

‘Rest up was pretty much all they said. They’ll need to keep an eye on my blood pressure and I have to let them know if I have any concerns.’

‘And do you? Have any concerns?’

‘Physically? No. I have run of the mill morning sickness and that’s it. Am I worried given what happened before? The answer to that would be a resounding yes. But they seem to know what they’re doing and so I have to go along with that, right?’

‘And when they said to rest, did you listen?’

‘I’m sitting in an air-conditioned office having gotten a cab here and I’ll be getting a cab home. It’s fine, don’t worry.’

‘That’s not resting dove.’

It’s resting in my book.’ Maddie said. ‘Look, if there’s one thing I need to keep telling myself it’s that just because it went wrong last time doesn’t mean it will again.’

‘But it could.’ Dal’s prophetic tone seemed to suck all the happiness from the room.

‘I know that it could.’ Maddie forced a smile onto her face. ‘Dal, I appreciate you worrying about me, really I do. But I’ll end up a nervous wreck if I think like that. I won’t overdo it, I promise. Now, shall we just crack on? I’m only here for a few hours.’

‘Whatever you say.’ Dal started leafing through her own copy of the paperwork and said nothing more. That was one good thing to having the same assistant for so long that they became a friend. They knew when to push and when to back off.

‘There’s one in here that stood out.’ Dal said. ‘Went to the same university as you.’

‘Interesting. Tell me, did they stick to the rules and keep it anonymous?’

‘They’ve mentioned their family’s solicitors’ firm. Forsythe and Son. Worked there during summer breaks. So yes, they’ve given you a name, but only by way of their work experience which is unavoidable I suppose.’

‘That’s if they did work there and adding the name isn’t just a ploy to get my attention.’ Maddie groaned to herself as Dal glanced at her over the ridge of her glasses. ‘I know I sound cynical Dal, but it’s true. There’s a surprising amount of people out there who think the old networks still apply.’

‘That’s because in some places they do.’ Dal sighed.

‘I know, it’s just I hate that whole sense of entitlement thing. It really winds me up.’

‘Now you’ve gotten that off your chest, remind me. What did the doctor say about your blood pressure again?’

‘Alright, point taken.’ Maddie relented. ‘What was the name again?’

‘Forsythe. Is that a name you recognise?’

‘Not in the slightest.’

‘No surprise there.’ Dal chuckled, peering up as someone rapped on the door. ‘You want food?’

‘Not particularly, but I should eat something I suppose.’ Maddie lazily beckoned the mobile caterer into her office.

‘Usual?’ The woman manoeuvred her trolley through the door, removed her headphones and beamed a wide grin.

‘Depends. Is the mayo pasteurised?’

‘Yep. It’s in a homemade looking jar I know, but it’s from a catering pack. Trade secret.’

‘Same as usual then I guess. But ready salted crisps and I’ll take a chunky Kit Kat. Oh, and a ginger ale.’ She glanced over at Dal. ‘That’ll have the same effect as ginger, right? I mean, it’s gotta have ginger in it.’

‘I doubt that very much.’ Dal huffed. ‘Nothing for me today, thanks Verity.’

‘Cool.’ Verity put her headphones back on and started whipping ingredients out of her trolley.

‘So, tell me more about this applicant.’

‘Where was I? Forsythe.’

‘Means nothing to me. What else have you got?’ Dal picked up her reading glasses and perched them back on the end of her nose.

‘Let’s see. Went to Oxford. A few clerical posts after graduation then a literary position at Foster and Cook. Was there for about three months. Left there about a year ago and has been in retail since.’

‘Made redundant? Temporary post?’

‘Doesn’t say that.’

‘Which means