The Girl You Gave Away: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller

by Jess Ryder

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jade

  March 2020

  Jade presses the entry button of Mia and Amy’s flat and waits. She walked all the way from the hostel and now she’s out of breath. A sharp pain sits in her chest; she can’t tell whether it’s from hurrying or being upset. Probably both. She can still hear Mandy’s voice telling her off this morning like she was a kid. It was so humiliating.

  ‘Violent behaviour or threats of violence are against the rules, you know that. One more time and I’m turfing you out – you get me?’

  She can’t remember how the incident started or how it got so bad so quickly. She didn’t even want the effing toast, but Mandy had been nagging her about eating properly so she’d gone to breakfast club to shut her up. It wasn’t her fault that jerk pushed her to one side, like she was an object in his way. She wasn’t actually going to stab him. Okay, so she was waving a butter knife around at the time, but it was so blunt it would never have pierced his stupid fat skin.

  ‘Come on!’ She tilts her head back and looks up, focusing her gaze on the eleventh floor, searching for a glimpse of Amy flicking ash off the balcony, or Mia taking a breath of not-so-fresh air. But it’s impossible to tell exactly which flat is theirs, and the craning makes her feel dizzy.

  She knocks her forehead against the reinforced glass of the entrance doors. Why doesn’t Amy answer? Or Mia for that matter – she literally never goes out, unless it’s to the hospital. Jade needs to speak to them, to pour out her woes on the cracked leather sofa with a mug of hot tea and a jammy dodger. They can’t not be there – it makes no sense.

  In her wonky brain, Amy and her mother have no life of their own; they exist only when she chooses. They are figures in her imaginary doll’s house, arranged in suitable poses: Mia lying on her sickbed, limbs stiff and straight, Amy standing in front of the kitchen sink, arms bent at the elbow to denote washing-up. Every time Jade rings the doorbell she sets off a magic spell, conjuring them into life.

  She presses the button again and keeps her finger there, insisting they answer. They have to let her in; there is nowhere else for her to go.

  After a few seconds there’s a buzzing noise and a click as the external door catch releases. ‘About bloody time,’ Jade murmurs as she pushes her way through and marches to the lift.

  On the eleventh floor, Amy stands at the open door wearing a thin plastic apron and a pair of blue disposable gloves. ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘I’m seeing to Mum.’ She turns and goes back inside, tossing the words ‘Make yourself tea or whatever’ over her shoulder as she disappears into the bathroom, shutting her visitor out.

  Feeling slightly offended, Jade walks into the lounge. There are two large open suitcases on the floor. She stares down at neatly folded clothes, bulging toilet bags, boxes of medication slotted into the corners, a netted section stuffed with strappy sandals and bejewelled flip-flops. A shiver of fear runs through her. Amy and Mia are packing to go away – somewhere hot, judging by the straw hats and bottles of sunscreen.

  How can this be happening? Mia is too ill to go on holiday and Amy has her business to run. They are her only friends. If they leave, there’ll be nobody for her to play with. How dare they treat her like this?

  She has a sudden urge to take the suitcases and throw their contents over the balcony; to watch Amy and Mia’s clothes flutter to the ground, their summer dresses splayed out like dead bodies on the concrete. Her fingers itch with longing. She has to clench her fists and fold her arms across her chest, trapping her hands in her armpits in an invisible straitjacket.

  The room feels very small as she paces up and down; the rage she felt an hour ago at the hostel has bubbled back up to the surface and now it’s spitting out of her. She despises them all – the arsehole in the breakfast queue, Mandy, Amy, Mia, her adoptive parents, her birth mum. Especially her birth mum. All these awful people in her life. She thinks of them as little figures made of coloured dough, squashing and moulding themselves together into one brown, grungy ball of hate.

  Amy comes out of the bathroom, tearing off her plastic gloves as if she’s just finished a medical procedure. Behind her, Mia is tying the belt of her dressing gown. She gives Jade a feeble, almost apologetic wave, then closes the door again.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ says Amy. Her face puckers into a frown. ‘You okay? You’ve gone all red. You look like you’re going to explode.’

  ‘What’s this about?’ Jade, still restraining herself, nods towards the suitcases. ‘You never told me you were going away.’

  ‘I only booked it yesterday.’

  ‘How long you going for?’

  ‘A couple of months.’

  ‘A couple of months?’ Jade’s mouth drops open.

  ‘Mum’s always had this dream of living in Spain. It’s top of her bucket list.’ Amy lowers her voice. ‘If we don’t do it now …’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Amy glances towards the bedroom door. ‘She had her results. There’s nothing more they can do for her.’

  ‘Oh … sorry.’ Jade feels ashamed. She didn’t think; it never occurred to her. But of course, this isn’t a holiday, it’s a farewell trip. Mia probably won’t come back.

  ‘Yeah, it’s shit … I don’t know how I’m going to manage without her.’

  Jade wants to say something along the lines of you’ve got me, I’ll be here for you, but she knows it won’t help. Losing a mum is a terrible thing. Nobody has ever been able to fill the aching gap in her heart she’s felt her whole life. Even before she found out she was adopted, she knew something was missing, that the feelings between her and the woman she called her mother were fake.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Canaries. We’re renting an apartment in Lanzarote, two bedrooms and a balcony with sea glimpses. Can’t wait.’

  ‘Sounds amazing,’ Jade sighs. ‘How can you afford it?’

  ‘Mum’s life savings. She wanted to leave it all to me, but I said no way, spend it on yourself, blow the lot, for God’s sake.’

  Jade thinks about the money sloshing about in her own savings account. She doesn’t know what to do with it. Perhaps she should give it to Amy. Or even better, she could offer to join them and share the costs. They’d have such a laugh together and she could help look after Mia. She’d like to get out of the country. It must be years since she had a proper holiday.

  ‘Well, maybe I could—’

  ‘Help out? That’d be awesome.’ Amy grins at her. ‘Obviously I can run New Love Vintage from my laptop in Lanzarote, but I still need you to find stock for me. I was thinking, you could take photos and send them to me to put on the website, and then if I get a sale, you could post the clothes out too.’ Jade’s face falls and Amy misinterprets her reaction. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll pay for the postage and give you, say, ten per cent for your time. What do you think?’

  ‘Okay,’ Jade replies, her vision of sun, sangria and sea glimpses dying before it’s born.

  The bathroom door opens again and this time Mia emerges. She looks thinner than ever. Even her slippers look too big for her, like clown’s shoes.

  ‘Hello, love,’ she says. ‘We don’t usually see you this time of day. What’s up?’

  ‘I had a fight at the hostel,’ Jade replies. ‘Not a real fight. Just some tosser in the breakfast queue pushing me out of the way. Not my fault; I didn’t do anything. Mandy – that’s my key worker – says if it happens again, I’ll be out on my arse.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound fair.’ Mia grimaces with pain as she eases herself into the armchair.

  ‘You should complain,’ Amy says.

  ‘I don’t care. Got to leave soon anyway.’

  ‘Decided where you’ll go yet?’

  ‘I think the council might find me somewhere ’cos I’m vulnerable.’

  ‘Vulnerable?’ Mia peers at her questioningly.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I was living rough before
I moved into the hostel. And I have learning difficulties, don’t I?’

  ‘Do you? You’ve always seemed fine to me.’

  ‘My brain’s wired wrong.’

  ‘Oh!’ Mia laughs. ‘You could say that about most people.’

  ‘Ha! Speak for yourself,’ says Amy. ‘Jade’s had a tough time. I already told you, Mum, she was brought up in care. The people who adopted her sent her back when she was seven because she got permanently excluded from school.’

  ‘When you were only seven? That’s disgusting.’

  ‘They were so mad they said they didn’t want her any more. But by then she was too old to be adopted. Nobody wanted her, so she spent the rest of the time being pushed around from one foster carer to another, and when she was sixteen, they stopped getting money for her so they just chucked her out, isn’t that right, Jade?’

  Jade nods, squirming internally. She wishes she hadn’t told her friends so many lies. Did she really say she was seven when her parents gave her back?

  ‘You poor thing,’ says Mia. ‘But look at you now. You’re a survivor, you beat the system! I admire you – you know that?’ This makes Jade feel even worse. How can Mia be so cheerful and nice when she’s just found out that she’s dying?

  Amy adjusts the cushions behind her mother’s back. ‘Guess what, Mum, Jade’s going to look after the business while we’re away. She’s going to post out the parcels and be here when people come to collect stuff.’

  ‘Oh, that’s brilliant. Will you water my plants too, love? I’ve been worrying about what’s going to happen to them.’

  ‘Yeah, no problem,’ Jade says, not that she has the slightest clue about how to look after plants.

  ‘Marvellous. Amy, give Jade the spare key. It’s in the drawer.’ Amy nods and goes into the kitchen.

  Jade looks at the suitcases again, pleased to realise that she feels none of the old anger towards them or their owners. She’s really sad about Mia and she’s going to miss Amy like hell, but if they’re working together, they’ll have to be in constant contact. Maybe she could go over to Lanzarote for a long weekend.

  ‘Here you go.’ Amy hands Jade a fob with two keys on it. ‘Don’t lose them.’

  ‘Promise.’ She puts them straight into the zip-up compartment of her bag. ‘When are you flying off?’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s soon.’

  ‘No time to lose.’

  ‘No … suppose not.’

  Amy goes back to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a bowl of tomato soup and a thin slice of white bread cut into four small triangles. She sets the tray down on her mother’s lap.

  ‘So tell me, Jade,’ says Mia, picking up a spoon and slowly stirring the soup – it seems to require every ounce of her energy. ‘Any word from your birth mum yet? Must be weeks since you sent that email.’

  Jade hesitates before answering. ‘She’s not interested. Doesn’t want to know. I guess I don’t fit in with her lifestyle.’

  ‘That’s disgusting,’ says Amy. ‘How can anyone think like that? She must be a right bitch.’

  Mia slurps a drip of soup from the edge of her spoon. ‘Yeah, you can do without her sort. She doesn’t deserve a daughter like you.’

  Jade thinks she might be exactly what her birth mum deserves, but she keeps that thought to herself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Erin

  April 2020

  Over the next couple of weeks, I felt very isolated and down. I found it hard to concentrate at work and was snappy with colleagues. Everything seemed out of focus, slightly malfunctioning. Oli was stressing over his revision and Chloe was perpetually grouchy. I kept falling out with both of them. Even my relationship with Tom was unusually awkward – we were bickering over stupid things and constantly misunderstanding each other.

  Then, at work, we had a complaint from some fusspot parents: another mum had brought in a birthday cake for the children to share, and their daughter, who wasn’t allowed sugar, ever, had mistakenly been given a piece. If she’d been allergic or intolerant, I would have been horrified, but it was only an ‘expressed preference’ and no real harm had been done. Normally when this kind of thing happened I apologised profusely, but the parents were unpleasant, and stupidly, I let my irritation show. The meeting escalated into a nasty confrontation and the child was immediately withdrawn. Afterwards, the mother posted a tweet criticising my manner and rubbishing the nursery’s healthy eating policy, which really worried Hilary. Sometimes that was all it took to close a business down.

  To make matters worse, Jade’s birthday was coming up: the first of the month, April Fool’s Day. The irony of the date was not lost on me. I always became more introverted as it approached, torturing myself with memories, pointlessly wishing I could turn back time and change history. If only I’d never met Dean … If only I’d used contraception … If only I’d fought to keep her … If only I’d tried to get her back … This year I had even more regrets to pile on my shoulders.

  I hadn’t heard a squeak out of Jade. Was the sorry episode over or was she going to get in touch again when she needed more cash? That was how blackmailers worked, wasn’t it? They waited until their victim relaxed, then struck again. Except I wasn’t relaxed; far from it. My heart galloped every time my phone rang or a letter was pushed through the door. I felt stupid for having handed over so much money, thinking it would make all my problems go away.

  If anything, I had more problems now. I knew Jade was out there somewhere and had me in her power. The only way to take back control was to tell Tom, but I couldn’t, because a strong part of me was still hoping I might never need to. I felt bad about all the lies and deception, not to mention the negative feelings I had for my own daughter. I hadn’t been a practising Catholic for many years, but my capacity to feel guilt was stronger than ever.

  The first of April dawned. It was a work day, so I went to the office and tried to busy myself at the computer. The staff were always keen to play little jokes on the children and each other. I knew that at some point in the morning it would be my turn to be tricked. I’d be told there was an elephant in the room or a monster hiding in the toilets and I’d have to pretend to be really, really scared. Then the children would jump out of their hiding places and shout ‘April Fool!’; not that they really knew what it meant – they just loved the fun of it. Usually I went along with the game, even though the date had painful connotations for me and all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole.

  Laughing with a bunch of toddlers would probably have done me good, but I didn’t feel up to it today. I told Hilary I needed to go home to concentrate on an important piece of work. Just as I was putting on my coat, my phone rang. I jumped, then realised it was only Asha.

  ‘Hi, lovely,’ she said. ‘Just wanted to see how you were.’

  I sat back down. ‘Hmm … not great, if I’m honest. It’s Jade’s birthday today.’

  ‘Yes, I remembered. I thought you might be having a wobble. How are things? You haven’t been in touch for ages. How did it go with Tom?’

  I bit my lip and said, ‘I didn’t tell him.’

  ‘What?’ She sounded surprised. ‘But I thought … when we met, I thought we decided … I mean, you decided—’

  ‘I changed my mind.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, sounding disappointed. ‘But what about Jade – you know, the blackmail?’

  I covered my mouth to muffle my voice. ‘I gave her the money,’ I said.

  ‘You did what?’ she exploded.

  ‘It was the right thing to do.’

  There was a pause. ‘Oh, Erin, Erin.’ She sighed. ‘That was so foolish.’

  ‘Well, it is April Fool’s Day,’ I joked bitterly.

  ‘No, I mean … You can’t trust her. She’ll come back asking for more, and then what will you do? You’re trapped … I can’t believe you fell for it.’

  ‘You make her sound like some kind of con artist,’ I said.

  ‘H
mm … Well, she was brought up in care,’ Asha replied, as if that explained everything.

  I found myself immediately rising to Jade’s defence. ‘Yes, she’s had it really tough, but that doesn’t make her a bad person.’

  ‘Decent people don’t blackmail their own mothers.’

  ‘I know,’ I admitted. ‘I don’t want to think of it as blackmail.’

  ‘But that’s what it is! Oh God, this is so awful … I can’t bear it.’ Her voice was cracking.

  ‘Why are you getting so upset? It’s my life, not yours.’

  ‘Because … because …’ She groaned, as if trying to undo an impossibly tight knot.

  ‘Because what?’

  There were a few moments of silence, then she launched into a speech. ‘Because I care about you, Erin. I was really excited for you when Jade got in touch. I knew it wouldn’t be easy getting Tom to accept her, but I was sure you’d work it out somehow. I wanted all the lies and secrets to be over, for your sake, for everybody’s sake. I never imagined for a second that it would turn out like this – I’m so, so sorry.’

  ‘We can all dream of happy endings,’ I said. ‘But real life isn’t like that. It’s messy, it doesn’t obey the rules. There’s no need for you to feel bad about it; it’s not your fault, I’m the one to blame. You and Holly have been amazing. I’d be totally lost without you.’ She didn’t reply. ‘Asha? Are you still there?’

  ‘Please, please tell Tom,’ she begged. ‘If you don’t, I’ve a horrible feeling that things will only get worse.’

  I glanced at the time. It was nearly midday and I needed to get out of the building before they made an April Fool of me. ‘Thanks for the advice,’ I said. ‘I’ll think about it, honestly, I will … I’ve got to go now.’

  We said our goodbyes and ended the call, promising to check in with each other in a few days’ time. Then I gathered my things and escaped.

  * * *

  I returned to a cold, empty house. Tom was at work and the children were at school. I flicked the central heating on, took off my coat and went straight upstairs to my bedroom. The conversation with Asha had touched me. I really appreciated her support and love, but this problem was mine and mine alone. There could be no more procrastination. It was time to read the adoption file and face the tsunami of emotion that was inevitably going to rush towards me.