All the Little Things by Sarah Lawton (the best books to read txt) 📕

they had decided to stay here instead and revise, and that she was going to stay last night, too. We were out on Saturday, most of yesterday too. I didn’t think to check with you, as she’s here such a lot. Are you sure Vivian was on her own?’ I could see guilt slicing into her, lips pressed hard together, eyes widening and shining with worry. I remembered listening to Vivian coming up the stairs. I remembered Alex slowly moving inside me. She was alone.

‘Yes, I was still awake but it was late, pitch dark. I didn’t ask her why it was so late, why she came back, I just forgot. What are you going to do, do you want to come in? Shall we call the school and see if she’s turned up? I’m sure she was just at one of the other girls’ houses – shall we call Serena’s mum?’

‘I’m going to go home and call Gavin. I’ll do a ring around,’ Abi said. Her eyes were flicking between me and the path now, and I could see her fingers twisting in the loose, filmy material of her green skirt. I could almost feel the fear leaching from her skin like an oily mist, reaching for me, wrapping us both in its tendrils. Where the hell was Molly? Why didn’t I ask Vivian what had happened and why she’d come home so late? I’d been so wrapped up in my own head I’d missed what was going on with my girl.

Abi turned and left me, almost running across the field and already on her phone, presumably trying Molly again, or Gavin. I had a sick feeling in my stomach and a writhing under my skin, like worms rooting to get out.

By the time Alex appeared at my door – like I knew, deep down, he would – I just pulled him inside, let him kiss me, while I tugged up handfuls of my dress; let him fuck me where we fell against the stairs, their edges digging into my back. The carpet was rough, burning on my skin, but I welcomed the pain.

It made me feel good. It made me forget.

London

Vivian had been delighted to see the cake Carol had baked waiting for them at home. It was her favourite, a plain sponge with a jammy filling. Guilt chewed at her as she watched the little girl tuck into a slice, while she made them a special hot chocolate dotted with little marshmallows. It wasn’t right to think so badly of your own flesh and blood, she told herself, as she watched them melt into the hot liquid, waiting for it to cool enough for Vivian.

‘Nana, can I go and play in my room now?’ asked her granddaughter, after she’d slurped the drink down loudly.

Carol swallowed painfully, and reached out to hold Vivian’s hand. ‘Actually, darling,’ she said, wondering if she was doing the right thing without speaking to Rachel first, ‘I wanted to speak to you about something.’ She lifted the magazine that she’d placed on the table earlier, and slid out the piece of paper hidden beneath. It was a drawing of small, broken figures, all scribbled over in red, each one named as a classmate, with Lexie in the centre. It had made Carol cry when she found it, realising how bad Vivian must be feeling about the situation she was in, the falling out. The rage in it had actually frightened her. It wasn’t normal.

Vivian’s face fell as she looked at the paper, her eyes widening in a horror that would have been comical in any other situation. Her mouth fell open, but she didn’t say anything.

‘I found this in your room, sweetheart. It made me feel a bit worried about you, Vivian. About how you’re feeling. This isn’t very nice. I think that me and you and Mummy need to talk about how you’re feeling.’

Carol reached out again for Vivian’s hand, but the little girl snatched it away and suddenly sobbed. ‘Please, don’t tell Mummy! I won’t do it any more, I promise.’ She rubbed her eyes with her fists and her voice hitched. ‘Please, Nana! Please! Don’t make Mummy hate me even more.’

‘Shh, love. Come here. Mummy doesn’t hate you, why would you say that?’ asked Carol, shocked by the unusual emotion in her granddaughter’s voice.

‘Because she’s never here, she never wants to see me, and because I cutted Lexie’s hair but I was just playing, I thought she would like it!’

‘Mummy doesn’t hate you,’ said Carol, her guilt warping into shock and sadness as she pulled Vivian around and onto her lap. ‘And I won’t tell her if you don’t want me to, but we need to have a proper talk about this, okay? Me and you. I didn’t know you were feeling so bad.’

She held Vivian on her lap for a long time, rubbing the shaking little shoulders and feeling terrible about confronting her.

When Vivian finally pulled away, though, she couldn’t help noticing that her eyes were dry.

Vivian

I’ve just come out of science when Mrs Barker, who is hovering outside the lab, catches sight of me and beckons me over. She asks me to follow her to her office above the art block. It seems to take for ever to get there, like we are walking through glue. The air is thick and hazy and I wonder if I’m still dreaming. The noise of everyone else moving through the school to lunch is muted, like I’m listening underwater.

As I follow behind her I notice that she’s wearing thick beige tights, despite the heat. There is a run in them that goes from her ankle right the way up to underneath her skirt. I imagine grey, bristly hairs sticking through the little holes; and grease from her skin, leaking through the gaps, hot and moist and sticky.

I’ve never been in Mrs Barker’s office before. I look around. I thought it would be sparse, empty – she seems like such