The Claw

Forty-six

Mummy's eyes opened, and Anna tried to scream. If she managed to make a sound, she knew she'd scream until everyone in the hotel woke up, until they came to break the door down, to stop mummy before it was too late. But she couldn't scream; she couldn't move at all, not even to relieve the agony in her legs, which in any case she was too terrified to feel. As mummy realized what Anna had been doing, her eyes were growing brighter every second, more and more like a horrible stranger's. Once Anna had seen a rabbit frozen by the headlights of the car; now she knew how it had felt in that pitiless murderous glare.

Mummy's lips opened, baring her teeth. She leaned toward Anna. Could Anna scream now, before those nails seized her? If she waited until they did, it might be too late. But mummy was going to speak, and she couldn't scream while mummy was speaking, even if it was a stranger who was pretending to be mummy. Besides, she was too frightened of what mummy was going to say.

'Well then, you little thief,' mummy said. 'I've caught you, haven't I?'

Anna couldn't speak, she could only squat there, her thighs jerking like a broken wind-up doll. She couldn't make a sound, not when mummy's voice was so gentle. It wasn't that she no longer wanted to – it was that mummy's gentleness was so terrifying that it choked off her scream.

At last the horrible delight faded from mummy's eyes and they grew blank, gazing at Anna as if they were looking at nothing. When she spoke, she sounded almost indifferent. 'Get dressed,' she said. 'We're going now.'

Anna was shivering so much that she could hardly struggle into her clothes. She'd had her chance to scream for help, but now the moment was past; it almost seemed there was no reason to scream now, though she knew there was. All mummy had said was that they were going – she hadn't said anything about going home. Something in her eyes had said they were going somewhere else.

In a minute mummy was dressed, and waiting for her. When Anna made for the bathroom, her legs getting in her way, mummy said, 'Stay out of there.' She didn't want the bathroom noises waking anyone in the hotel. She didn't want anyone to know they were leaving. Anna must let someone know. But as mummy unbolted the door to the corridor she gave Anna a look that dared her to make a sound, a look that already knew she could not. Anna was a rabbit again, frozen in the moment before it was all over.

The corridor was deserted and chilly. The fog outside seemed to have dimmed the lights. There was no sound beyond any of the closed doors; everyone was asleep, whatever time of night it was. It felt cold and grey and empty, neither night nor morning. All the way along the corridor and down the stairs, Anna was praying that a door would open, that someone would appear so that she could run to them, plead with them not to let mummy take her away, plead to be taken to Granny Knight instead. But nothing moved except the fire doors they had passed through. She was alone, with mummy at her back and the aching of her bladder, the agony between her legs.

Nobody was at the reception desk. The potted plants looked dusty in the blurred yellowish light; the glass panels of the lobby doors seemed to have turned into fog. Mummy unbolted the doors quickly and quietly. Surely you weren't supposed to open them at night? Shouldn't that set off an alarm? But there was no sound in the hotel except the mousy squeak of the hinges. Nobody came. Anna was still waiting and praying when mummy pushed her out onto the steps and into the fog.

The fog wasn't quite dark, but it seemed to press close to her face, so close that she felt as if her eyes were closed. When mummy shoved her forward onto the gravel path at the bottom of the steps, her footfalls sounded trapped with her. The fog was her small, dark, grubby prison now. Even if she screamed, nobody would hear her through the fog.

It drifted in front of her as mummy hurried her forward, nipping Anna's bruised arm between her fingers, to the edge of the glistening road. As soon as she reached the verge, Anna couldn't restrain herself; she didn't care what mummy did. She squatted so desperately that mummy lost her grip on her. As Anna relieved herself, mummy stared down at her as if she were an animal soiling a carpet, and dragged her to her feet as soon as she'd finished. 'Come on,' she said in a voice that was colder than the fog.

The fog drew back along the road, which glistened like a giant snail's track. Drops of moisture clung like spawn to the spiky grass of the verges. Sometimes the verges heaved up, turned into spiny banks. If she could see all this, it must be morning; they must have left the hotel just before people began waking up, she must have spent all night trying to be stealthy. The thought made her sob hopelessly, until mummy glared at her.

The sun was breaking through now. Occasionally she saw herself and mummy silhouetted on the fog, a huge figure holding a small one, folded up like paper from their waists. Everything that loomed out of the fog and grew clear was uncomfortably intense, close as the photographs in her Viewmaster at home. Mummy and daddy had bought her that for her sixth birthday. She sobbed inside herself.

Mummy was walking faster now, as though by hurrying up she could break through the fog. Or was she trying to run away from something? For a moment, and then again, Anna felt that something was loping after them on all fours, just beyond the fog. It must be the man who hid from her, except that he wasn't a man.

They were passing the graveyard. Gravestones congealed out of the fog. The church drifted by, a dark vague meaningless bulk, and then there was nothing to be seen but dripping grass and slippery road. Far away in the village to her left she heard the intermittent hum of a milk-van, the clink of bottles. Mummy was almost running now, pinching Anna's bruised arm to make her keep up. But where was she running to? Not home, for suddenly they were passing their gate, and mummy wasn't turning in there.

They must be going to Jane's. Anna didn't like that idea very much, not when baby Georgie had died there. But there might be someone at Jane's. Now she thought about it, she felt there would be. Before she could try to think who, she was jerked to a halt; pain flared along her arm. Mummy was staring at their house.

At first Anna couldn't even see it. As the fog curled and uncurled, she squinted until she felt dizzy. Then suddenly the fog thinned enough for her to see the front of the house, and she realized what mummy had seen. There was a light on inside.

Was it daddy? She couldn't think who else it might be. If daddy had come home, she wasn't sure how she felt about it; she didn't know if she wanted to go to him, not when she remembered how she'd last seen him, changed like mummy. But she had no choice. Mummy jerked the gate open and hurried her along the path.

As soon as they reached the door, mummy rang the bell. After a while she rang again and began to search for her key. Anna was more afraid than ever: afraid that someone would open the door, afraid that nobody would. She might have run into the fog now that mummy had let go of her, but mummy was glaring at her as if she could read her mind. No doubt she could. She had her key now. She gripped Anna's shoulder as she opened the door, and sent her stumbling into the hall.

The fog was there already. The light looked smoky, burning out. For the first time, as far as she could remember, she couldn't hear the sea in the house. The silence made her skin prickle. It felt as if there were someone in the house, holding their breath. When mummy called 'Alan?', her voice seemed so loud that Anna cried out.

There was no reply. 'Alan?' mummy called again, shoving Anna along the hall. For a moment she sounded like mummy, but she was still behaving like the stranger. She called once more, this time sounding less like mummy. Anna sensed that she was growing angry. and nervous -which meant dangerous. By now Anna was sure that daddy wasn't here.

Mummy opened the door of the long room. The room smelled musty as an attic, like the rest of the house. Mummy was staring about as if she recognized nothing, not the videorecorder with a cassette still in it, not even her paintings of the sea, which looked dusty and faded. When she caught sight of Anna's tortoise made of shells, her eyes gleamed. For a moment Anna thought she was going to smash it, or her.

Mummy dragged her across the hall to the playroom. The floor was covered with toys; Anna hadn't cleared up for a while, she didn't like clearing up. Mummy's hand was tightening on her shoulder at the sight of the room, her nails digging in until Anna was ready to scream. She was afraid to scream now, so far from anyone. She was afraid of what mummy might do to stop her screaming.

Mummy was lugging her to the kitchen now, so roughly that Anna's heels dragged over the carpet. Mummy was staring at knives in the rack on the kitchen wall, and Anna's stomach twisted violently as she wished she could twist herself free. But mummy was pulling her toward the stairs. 'Someone put the light on,' she was muttering.

At once Anna realized that it had been mummy – that she'd left the light on the night they'd gone to the hotel. She didn't dare say so, but her fear and frustration made her speak. 'Daddy isn't here,' she complained. 'Why did we come home?'

Mummy stared at her as if she'd forgotten Anna could talk. 'Because you asked to.'

Her voice was cold and full of hate, the stranger's voice. 'I want to go back to the hotel,' Anna whimpered.

'You mean you don't want to stay here with me.' Mummy's eyes were brightening. 'That's the truth, isn't it? What a wise child.'

'What's wrong?' Anna couldn't help it, she was sobbing. 'You aren't like mummy.'

'Oh, don't I meet with your approval? It's all my fault, is it?' Mummy was hauling her upstairs, not stopping when Anna tripped and bruised her ankle on a stair. She must know by now that daddy wasn't here. What did she mean to do upstairs?

Fog shifted at the landing windows, as if the house were drowned and drifting under water. It didn't just smell musty, it smelled harsh; it made Anna think of a zoo. Mummy was dragging her from room to room, first her and daddy's bedroom, now Anna's, her hand pinching Anna's shoulder cruelly as she looked into the small untidy room. What was she looking for? Anna was afraid to think.

'Yes, of course,' mummy was muttering. 'There is one room.' She was making for the stairs again; she was dragging Anna up to daddy's workroom. Anna sobbed and struggled, but it was no use: mummy was stronger than she was – stronger than Anna had ever known her. Anna was on her knees as mummy dragged her up the last few stairs and across the landing, tugging her all the more roughly when Anna screamed. But before she'd reached daddy's workroom, they both heard a car draw up outside.

Mummy jerked her to her feet before Anna could resist. She must have meant to lock Anna in the workroom while she went to see who was out there, but then she decided that would waste time, for she dragged Anna to the landing window. Something red was out there on the road, reddening a patch of fog. It was a red car. Anna was praying that she knew whose it was, and it seemed her prayers were answered: Granny Knight was striding towards the house.

In the moment when mummy saw her too, Anna had the chance to scream for help, to bang on the window; Granny Knight would have seen her. But already mummy was jerking her away, hurting her arm so much that Anna couldn't even cry out. She threw open the door and shoved Anna into daddy's workroom, where she fell on the floor just short of the desk.

Anna struggled to her feet, terrified of mummy's eyes. 'Are you going to make a sound?' mummy demanded, in her stranger's voice. Anna wanted to say no, to promise she'd be quiet so that mummy would lock her in and go downstairs, so that she could scream for help as soon as she heard mummy opening the front door. But mummy was reading her mind again. She stared into Anna's eyes, then she lashed out. Mummy's hand swinging at her face was the last thing Anna saw as she fell.