by Kerena Swan
‘Rex has missed you.’ He gives me the smile that makes my skin crawl. ‘Can I have your phone number? It didn’t come up on my mobile.’
No, because I withheld it. ‘I’ll text you later so you’ve got it. I need to talk to you about getting a passport.’
‘What are you running away from?’ he asks, looking sideways at me.
‘I’m planning a holiday.’
‘The police came for you,’ he says bluntly, watching my face.
A huge chasm opens up in front of me and I fear I’m going to fall in, consumed with panic. I try to appear calm but I think I’m going to be sick. I take deep breaths then ask, ‘When?’
‘Back in May. They asked for Trina. The old ID I got for you. Look, Sarah, I don’t want you bringing trouble to my door. The last thing I need is the Old Bill sniffing around. What have you done?’ The pleasant, flirtatious Derek has disappeared to be replaced by a hardened, unsympathetic criminal. ‘I’m doing nothing else for you until you tell me why they brought an E-Fit picture of you.’
‘A what?’
‘Someone must have described you. Quite a good likeness apart from your new hair.’
God, this is terrible. I don’t know what to do. ‘I… don’t know why they’re looking for me.’
‘You’re lying. If I can’t trust you, then I’m not helping you anymore.’
‘Please, Derek. I just need a passport.’ Tears fill my eyes and I clutch his arm in desperation.
His face softens and I see a glimmer of the old, malleable Derek back again. ‘The police must have given up because I haven’t seen them since,’ he says. ‘It’s lucky you left when you did.’
He’s right. If that was four months ago, they would have arrested me by now if they knew where I was. ‘I’m sorry I left without saying anything, but you can see why I had to.’
‘Tell me why and I’ll help you.’
I nod slowly. ‘My boyfriend was violent and I defended myself.’
‘What with?’
‘A knife.’
‘Shit! Did you kill him?’ His eyes are wide with shock.
‘I don’t know. I ran away.’ I wipe at the tears with the back of my hand and stand up. ‘Will you get me a passport now?’
‘It’s not that easy these days. Fake passports are spotted a mile off with all the new technology.’
I pace up and down in front of the bench, looking sightlessly across the lake and grassland. ‘What can I do?’
He frowns and pauses before he answers. ‘I suppose I could get you a fake birth certificate then you could apply for a new passport, but you’d need your mother’s birth certificate as well. Can you get that? Have you still got Rosemary’s papers?’
I open my mouth to tell him Rosemary isn’t my mother, then stop. He doesn’t need to know that. I think of the box file of papers in the Hay Barn. My real mother’s birth certificate might be in there. ‘Yes, that could work. I need it to be in the name of Grace Winterbourne.’
‘I thought you were going by the name of Cavendish now?’
‘No. Grace Winterbourne is who I really am.’
Chapter 60
September | Jenna
‘Jenna?’ Lucy’s voice drifts across the yard and I fight the urge to hide at the back of the tack room. Instead, I step outside but take a riding crop with me. I don’t trust her.
‘Are you feeling better? Mum rang me and said it was a bad attack.’ Her face looks creased with worry but I won’t be taken in.
‘I’m fine.’ I stand stiffly, the crop hanging by my side.
‘What caused it this time?’
‘You tell me. I ate the food you brought us.’
‘It can’t have been that. I checked the ingredient lists.’ Lucy steps nearer then stops when she sees the expression on my face. ‘You can’t think I put peanuts in it?’
She waits for me to say that of course I don’t think that.
I don’t say it. I don’t say anything.
‘My God,’ she says, giving a fair impression of looking stunned. Then her eyes fill with tears. ‘We might not get on as well as some sisters,’ she admits. ‘There are times when I can’t actually stand you. But you’re my only sister and soon you’ll be all I have left of my family. Even if I don’t always like you, I love you, and I’d never, ever hurt you.’
If this is a trick, it’s a good one. Doubt seeps in at the edges of my anger.
‘Mum said you told her I was at the dentist. Is that because you didn’t want me to go to the hospital with you?’
I shrug.
‘You seem to forget all the times when I’ve helped you. I’ve looked after you when you’ve had attacks before, even when it’s involved cancelling my own plans. I’ve missed a friend’s party for you, a theatre trip, a visit to London… It hasn’t just been about your allergy either. I stuck up for you at school when those bullies were picking on you, lent you money when you’d spent your bus fare, picked you up when you’d drunk too much or been on a disastrous date…’
All true. Lucy has been magnificent at times.
‘We’ve never been the sort of sisters who are joined at the hip – we’re different sorts of people and the age difference hasn’t helped – but we haven’t always been at each other’s throats to this extent. What’s changed, Jenna?’
I bite my lip and don’t know what to say.
‘Come and sit in the barn. We need to sort this out.’
Lucy leads the way to a hay bale and sits on it, and after a moment of hesitation I follow. I don’t know what to believe about the peanuts, but she’s right about our relationship having worsened recently and maybe we should talk about it.
I sit, but as far from her as the hay bale allows. Sunshine slants through gaps in the wooden walls and dust tickles my nose. I hear Merlin’s hooves shifting bedding around in the stable next door. I’m willing to talk but I’m not going to be a pushover. There’s right on my side with at least one thing that’s happened. I take the initiative.
‘First of all, I want you to accept that I didn’t kiss Ellis. He kissed me and it was disgusting. You believed him over me which really hurt.’
Lucy looks at the floor. ‘I know. He confessed eventually – said he’d had too much to drink and it would never happen again.’
I jump up to face her. ‘Too bloody right it won’t. Why didn’t you tell me this before?’
‘I was too ashamed. Weak of me, I know, and I’m sorry I hit you. I feel really bad about it.’ She looks at the floor and twists her engagement ring around and around on her finger.
Wow. I didn’t expect her to admit guilt so easily or even at all. I’m wary still, but doubts are making my anger even weaker.
Lucy looks up at me. ‘I know I’m asking a lot, but do you think we could put that stupid kiss behind us now? I do want to make it up to you, though. And I want to make things up to Mum too. I know I’m supposed to be the strong, sensible one but the truth is that I haven’t coped well with all that’s happened – losing Dad and now mum’s illness. I can’t lose you as well.’ Her face crumples and her shoulders slump forward.
I don’t know what to do. To think. To feel… Lucy never cries. Hell. I drop the riding crop to the floor then sit next to her and wrap my arms around her. She leans into me and holds me as tight as a drunken uncle at a wedding, her tears wet on my neck. My conviction that Lucy is trying to hurt me falls away. There must be other explanations for the awful things that have happened. We cling to each other and my heart swells with affection. I’ve waited a long time for this.
‘I know I’ve been cold and distant but I was afraid of losing control.’ Her voice is distorted with crying but I manage to work out what she’s saying.
We eventually pull apart and Lucy wipes under her eyes with her fingertips.
‘Have I got panda eyes?’ She gives a small embarrassed laugh.
‘You have a bit. Wait.’ I pull a tissue from my pocket and lick it then wipe the mascara smudges from her face. I expe
ct her to rear back in disgust but she thanks me.
‘I really do want to make it up to you,’ she says. ‘What horrible tasks have you got that need doing?’
‘You can take my car to Pikesleys for the MOT and new tyres if you like.’ I laugh. ‘I hate that job.’
‘Okay. When is it booked in? I’ll pay for the tyres as well. You’ve given up work to care for Mum so it’s the least I can do.’
‘Seriously?’ I’m flabbergasted.
‘Seriously.’
‘It’s due in a couple of weeks and the tyres are almost illegal.’ I’ve been worrying about paying for the tyres.
We link arms as we cross the yard then Lucy gives me a quick hug before she climbs into her car and drives away with a promise to come back and sort my car out. I enter the house in a daze, not quite believing what has happened. I feel weightless, as though I’m floating an inch above the ground.
I run upstairs to Mum’s bedroom to tell her Lucy and I have forgiven each other and am taken aback to see Grace sitting on the bed beside her with the Scrabble board between them. She looks up, and for a fleeting second it’s as though she’s scowling at me and I’m intruding on something, but then her face changes to a smile and I wonder if I imagined it.
‘You can take over my game,’ she says, edging her way off the bed. ‘I was just playing until you came in.’
‘Grace is very good,’ Mum says. ‘She’s way ahead of me.’
I look at the board and am surprised to see words I’ve never heard of. The scorecard is impressive too. Wow. I didn’t realise Grace was so clever.
Chapter 61
Early October | Grace
I dash down the stairs like a four year old when I hear the doorbell. Is this it? I see the postman’s outline reflected in the hall mirror and my heart beats faster.
‘Grace Winterbourne?’ he asks.
‘Yes.’ I can’t contain my grin. It’s the first time anyone has ever called me that.
‘Sign here, please.’
It feels strange signing my new name, and I wish I’d practiced it more. I hope it looks the same as the one on my passport application.
He hands me a thick envelope then nods and walks away.
‘Thanks!’ I call after him.
My hands tremble as I open the envelope and pull out my new passport. I hold it reverently and kiss the cover. At last, I can be the person I’m meant to be. It’s been hard getting any time alone with my mother now that Jenna isn’t working, but since my last thwarted attempt at telling Fiona who I really am, I decided to get my passport first. Then I can show her I’m officially a Winterbourne. If she lets me live with her, then Mark can go to France without me and maybe I’ll join him later. If she doesn’t accept me into her home, then I’ll move abroad now. I won’t be happy if she says no, though. I won’t be happy at all.
The passport has arrived with perfect timing as Jenna is going out with her friend Nisha today and I’m looking after my mother. I think Jenna’s crazy to want to waste a single moment with her, let alone a whole day, but Fiona said she looked tired and under too much strain and insisted she go. No one thinks to ask if I’m okay or under strain. Still, if I’d been told to take a day off I would have refused.
I let myself into the Old Barn with growing excitement. Jenna is coming down the stairs looking like a new-age hippy in her long patchwork skirt and hand-knitted jacket, her dreadlocks and pathetic strings of beads. Lucy’s right when she says it’s about time she grew up. It doesn’t matter, though, because I’ve made other plans for Jenna.
‘Hi, don’t you look lovely?’ I say.
‘Thanks.’ She flashes me a bright smile. ‘Nisha and I are going to Brighton to wander around The Lanes and look at all the old shops. Then we’ll eat hot chips sitting on the beach.’
‘That sounds amazing.’ Yes, a whole day before anyone will miss you. ‘Won’t it be a bit too chilly to sit on the beach, though?’
‘The chips will warm us. I’m off now,’ she calls up the stairs. ‘Bye, Mum. Love you.’
‘Goodbye,’ I say. And good riddance.
I set a tray with a single, pale pink rose in a vase, a nutrition shake and some cheese straws as I know Mother manages to eat them occasionally. She’s lying down when I push the door ajar, but opens her eyes when she hears me approach. I set the tray on a side table and help her to sit up, plumping pillows and arranging them behind her back. She takes a few sips of the shake and a nibble of a cheese straw.
‘That’s a beautiful rose,’ she says. ‘Is it from the garden?’
‘Your roses have finished now. This is from a shop. There are more downstairs for you. Shall I bring them up?’
‘No, I’ll try to come down soon. I don’t want to spend all day in here.’ Fiona leans forward and grasps my hand and I fight the urge to lift it and hold it to my cheek.
‘Grace,’ she says, ‘you do so much for me and I don’t thank you enough. No one could wish for better care. I want you to know that you’ve helped make these last few months more bearable, and I’m so grateful to have you with me for the last part of my journey.’
I lift my chin and swallow the tears that are gathering behind my eyes and in my throat. I can’t cry in front of her.
‘Can I sit with you?’ I ask. My voice is thick with emotion and she watches me with surprise.
‘Of course. I’d like nothing more.’
I climb onto the bed and prop a pillow behind my back. This is it. At last, I have my opportunity to tell her who I am but I can’t speak. I’m shaking. I breathe in and out slowly to compose myself. ‘I need to show you something.’
I reach into the large front pocket of my hoodie and pull out my new passport. She takes it from me, a puzzled look on her face.
‘Open it,’ I say.
She flicks through the pages until she’s near the end then pauses as she studies the information. ‘It’s a good picture of you, Grace. My passport photos are always terrible.’ Her wonderful, infectious laugh rings out and I store it in my memory along with other precious moments.
‘Winterbourne? Grace Winterbourne?’ Now she’s noticed the name. ‘I don’t understand. I thought you were Grace Cavendish.’
This is definitely it. My moment. My voice is low and unsteady. ‘I was born on 29th October 1995 in Milton Keynes hospital. I was called Jenna for three days.’ I watch her carefully as she processes the information.
‘Jenna? Three days?’ Understanding dawns on my beloved mother’s face. She lifts a fluttering hand to her throat. ‘Are you… are you Sarah?’ There’s hope in her face now and her hand moves to mine. Possessively, I think. Claiming me as hers. Her precious daughter.
‘I am. I’m your real daughter.’ It’s Jenna who’s the fake. ‘You came looking for me but I was in Manchester and missed you, but then I found your letters.’ My voice breaks and I can’t contain the tears any longer. They roll freely down my cheeks and drip off my chin.
Tears well in my mother’s eyes too then we’re reaching out for one another and crying into each other’s arms. We weep and laugh then pull back and look deep into each other’s eyes, and for the first time ever I am complete. I’ve been in the dark my whole life but now her love is bathing me in pure brilliance.
Mummy, I whisper to myself. I’ve found you. I’m a small child again with a grazed knee, but this time I’m not told off for being clumsy. This time Mummy is here to soothe my pain and my body is filled with liquid gold. She leans forward and gently places her lips on my forehead, and it’s as though I’ve been kissed by God himself.
Her strength is slipping away so we slide down the bed a little and she rests her head on my chest. My fingers gently stroke and soothe her hair and she drifts into sleep.
My back aches but I won’t move her. I’ll take any amount of pain for her. She’s woken up my heart and now it’s swelled so much it won’t fit inside my chest. My love for her is almost tangible. I see it wrap around her like a fine gossamer blanket, warming, nur
turing.
We lie there for what must be an hour or more until my stomach gives a loud rumble and wakes her up. She pulls away then looks at me blankly for a moment before her face transforms with a warm smile as she remembers. ‘I’m sorry, my love. You must be very uncomfortable.’
I shift my position and feel the tingle of pins and needles in my hand. ‘Can I get you anything?’ I ask.
‘Could you help me to the bathroom? Then I insist you get yourself something to eat and drink. I want to ask you so many questions. Do you want me to still call you Grace? Did you choose that name?’
‘I did. Please don’t call me Sarah. She doesn’t exist anymore.’
‘I can’t believe I’ve got you back at last.’ Her eyes fill with tears again. ‘I’ve dreamed of this day for so many years.’
It’s been a long, tortuous journey but I’m finally home.
Chapter 62
Early October | DI Paton
Paton replaced the receiver and leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. His weekly call to the Milton Keynes force had proved to be as futile as ever, but he wasn’t prepared to give up yet. When he’d learned the name of Rex’s owner he’d been convinced the Milton Keynes team would have something on him. Not that Paton knew why. Derek just seemed off somehow and he was clearly lying when he said he didn’t know Trina.
Paton had watched his house from a distance and even followed Derek a couple of times, but the journeys had been to a betting shop and harmless excursions to a supermarket for dog food. In the end Paton had admitted defeat and returned to Perth. He cringed every time he recalled the meeting with DSI Metcalfe, but that was nothing to the disappointment he’d seen on his son’s face when he’d told him the villain had so far escaped.
Paton leaned forward and picked up his mug of tea. His photo was printed on the side with the words: Wanted – Have you seen this man? A gift from Tommy. He would have loved to get some printed with the E-Fit of Trina that was currently staring down at him from the wall. He’d like to distribute them around Milton Keynes and wait for his phone to ring with news of sightings.
