The Girl You Gave Away: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller

by Jess Ryder

  It can’t last, she accepts that. Eventually Amy will return, with or without her mother, and she’ll probably chuck her out. Jade was hoping they would set up together as flatmates, but she realises that can’t happen now. Not after what Amy’s done. But there’s no need to get ahead of herself. There are two sides to every secret. Better to pretend she doesn’t know about the blackmail and that she hasn’t been to see her birth mum. What her parents call ‘lying by omission’. It will take a bit of that chutzpah stuff, but she’ll give it her best shot.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Erin

  April 2020

  After Jade walked out, I went into meltdown. My universe, already turned on its head, started to spin out of control. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The whole gamut of human emotion was swirling through my system. My marriage, my family, the life I’d worked so hard to create and build and nurture – in short, everything and everyone I cared about – had wriggled free from my grasp and slipped away, like a beloved child running into a crowd.

  I collapsed on the sofa. Choking sobs rose from my gut; my chest heaved with emotion. My face was wet, my nose blocked, my mouth tasted salty from crying. There was such a sharp pain in my heart I thought it was literally about to break. It was terrifying. But eventually exhaustion must have taken over because I drifted into a strange, troubled sleep.

  When I woke up, I’d lost all sense of time. How long had I been lying here, curled into a frightened ball? Seconds, minutes, hours? The house was deathly quiet. The room had turned dark without my noticing and I realised I was shivering.

  Sitting up, I blinked at the gloom. Where was everyone? Tom, I remembered now, had stormed out. Oli and Chloe must have retreated upstairs. Or maybe they’d all packed their bags and left.

  I closed my eyes and listened. I could just make out the strains of music playing at the top of the house. No, the children were still here, holed up in Oli’s bedroom, no doubt wondering when it might be safe to emerge. I sniffed. I could smell burning but couldn’t work out what was causing it or where it was coming from. Maybe it was in my head. My brain was full of competing sensations; I couldn’t think straight.

  I sniffed again. The smell wasn’t imaginary; it was coming from the back of the house. Heaving myself to my feet, I staggered into the kitchen, switching on the light. Steam was shooting out of the oven. I pulled open the door and a blast of intense heat hit me in the face. The Sunday roast had been cremated. I turned off the oven and staggered backwards into the dining area. It was nothing, yet full of meaning. Everything was ruined. Everyone was lost.

  My worst predictions seemed to have come true – my secrets had been revealed in the most disastrous way possible and it was all my fault. Now my fate hung in the balance. It was up to my family to decide. Would they understand? Would they forgive me? Would they even give me a chance to defend myself?

  There was somebody else who would be judging me too. My firstborn, my real daughter – not the impostor who had tricked me out of ten thousand pounds. I was still in shock over that. Who was she? How had I been so easily deceived? The stupidest thing of all was that deep in my heart I’d known all along that she wasn’t my flesh and blood. I hadn’t felt that instant connection, that animal surge of maternal love. But I hadn’t trusted my instincts – instead of feeling, I’d felt ashamed. And that had left me vulnerable. I’d let her blackmail me because in my heart I hadn’t wanted a relationship with her. I’d felt relieved when she offered to go away.

  Now there was another cruel twist in the plot. I’d found my real, beautiful, precious daughter and then lost her within a matter of minutes. I couldn’t believe how a dream could so quickly turn into a nightmare, how a story with such a happy ending could be wrecked on the final page.

  I drew the sitting room curtains and turned on the lamps, then sat in an armchair. Tom would have to come home eventually, I thought, and Oli and Chloe couldn’t hide upstairs forever. Sooner or later we would have to confront each other and talk this horror through. I was ready.

  As I waited, my thoughts kept drifting back to Jade. I had no idea where she was or how she was feeling. She’d seemed nervous and fragile – she’d had a panic attack right in front of us. I was worried about her and needed to know she was okay, but I doubted she wanted anything more to do with me. Would I ever see or hear from her again? At that moment, it seemed unlikely. Memories of leaving her behind in the hospital all those years ago came flooding back. For the second time in our short history together, I felt utterly bereft.

  I must have sat in that chair – still and silent – for about an hour before Tom came home. As soon as he entered the room, I felt instantly on my guard. His cheeks were flushed. He looked a little drunk, keyed up for a fight.

  ‘You’re still here, then,’ he said, clearly disappointed that I hadn’t run away.

  I tried to summon what little strength I had left. ‘Please, let’s talk about it. As a family. I want to tell you everything.’

  He shrugged. ‘Okay, if we must. Let’s get it over and done with.’

  We called the children down. They sat either side of Tom on the sofa opposite me, like judge and jury. Poor Oli looked very uncomfortable, but Chloe was alert, studying my face intently. Tom sat resolute, his long legs spread wide, feet planted firmly on the floor, arms around his beloved kids in a gesture of solidarity. He looked as if he’d already decided I was guilty as charged.

  I leant forward, clasping my hands together. ‘The first thing I want to say is – obviously – how incredibly sorry I am. For everything. I know you’ve got every right to be angry with me, and that really hurts because I love you all so much. You’re the most important people to me in the whole world and I can’t bear—’

  ‘What about Jade?’ interrupted Chloe. ‘Isn’t she just as important?’

  ‘Well, yes, but—’

  ‘I don’t get how you can give birth to a daughter and then behave like she doesn’t exist, like totally forget about her.’

  I shook my head. ‘I didn’t forget about her, not for a moment. I never stopped loving her. But in a way, she wasn’t my daughter any more. Biologically, yes, but legally, no. She was given new parents, a new birth certificate, a new life. I thought I was doing the right thing, giving her the best chance. You have to understand, Chloe, I was only fourteen when I got pregnant.’

  Tom looked disgusted, while Oli let out a low whistle. Chloe stared at me in astonishment, as if she was seeing a whole new person. A human being, I hoped.

  I gave her a cautious smile. ‘That’s why I come down hard on you sometimes. I’m terrified of you making the same mistakes. We’re so alike and—’

  ‘I’m not a slag, if that’s what you mean,’ she barked.

  I recoiled. ‘You know I don’t … Look, I don’t expect sympathy, I’m just trying to explain why I wasn’t able to keep her, why I felt ashamed and guilty and why I didn’t tell Dad.’

  Tom huffed. ‘Unbelievable, Erin … Unbelievable that you could do that to me, that you had so little respect—’

  ‘I know it was wrong. I made a terrible, terrible mistake, and I’m truly sorry.’

  ‘It’s way too late for apologies,’ he said dismissively. ‘You’ve wrecked everything. Everything.’

  ‘I know, I know …’ I looked away, fighting back yet more tears.

  There was a long, excruciating silence. The room seemed to grow even darker and colder.

  ‘Can we go now?’ said Oli, starting to shift.

  ‘No, please stay.’ I held up my hand. ‘There’s more I need to tell you.’

  ‘More?’ Tom said. ‘Jesus … how can there be more?’

  I took a deep breath, then told them about the young woman I’d met in the café, how I’d been tricked into thinking she was my real daughter. The three of them glared at me like they didn’t believe a word of it.

  ‘That’s really weird, Mum,’ said Oli. ‘Why would anyone do that?’

  ‘It was a scam. I
realise that now, of course, but at the time …’

  ‘Surely you asked for proof of ID,’ said Tom.

  ‘I know it sounds crazy, but to be honest, it didn’t occur to me. She was an amazing actress – she knew all about Jade, even gave me a copy of the adoption file. I had no reason to suspect—’

  ‘Did she look like your baby, then?’ interrupted Chloe.

  A memory instantly bubbled up: a tiny wrinkled creature in a pink woolly hat, covered in wires in tubes.

  ‘Not really, but it was impossible to tell. I’d only seen her a couple of times and that was twenty-five years ago. She didn’t look like me, but I thought … perhaps … she looked a little bit like …’ I halted, flushing with embarrassment.

  Tom understood what I was trying to say and shuddered. I wanted to reach out and hold him in my arms, to tell him that he was worth a million Deans, that he was the only man I’d ever truly loved. But he wouldn’t even catch my eye.

  ‘I was really shocked when Jade – the real one – turned up,’ I continued. ‘I knew she was mine straight away. She looked so like me, particularly when I was her age. But it was more than that; I can’t explain … the bond was there immediately.’

  ‘So why did the two of you fall out?’ asked Chloe. ‘We left you alone and the next thing you know we heard shouting and she stormed out of the house. We went to the window and saw her running down the street. What happened?’

  ‘I accused her of knowing who the impostor was. She denied it, but I … I didn’t really believe her.’

  She pulled a face. ‘Eek. Bad move, Mum.’

  ‘I admit I didn’t handle it well, but … I was confused and angry and …’ I tailed off, not knowing what else to say.

  ‘So … going back to this impostor,’ Tom said, taking back the reins of the conversation. ‘You said it was a scam. What did you mean by that?’

  Here goes, I thought, inhaling. ‘I told her she was a secret, although now I’m wondering if she already knew. Anyway, she pretended to be all shocked and upset and I felt really shitty about it. But then she wanted to meet up again and this time she was different. Kind of hard. She offered to go away if I helped her pay off some debts.’ I sighed. ‘She also threatened to make trouble for me on social media if I didn’t pay up. You know – nursery owner gives away her own baby, that kind of thing.’

  ‘But you didn’t fall for it, did you, Mum?’ Oli’s eyes widened as he waited for my answer. My hesitancy said it all.

  ‘How much?’ Tom’s voice was as cold and hard as a stone.

  ‘I borrowed it from the business – the emergency fund.’

  ‘I’m a shareholder. I don’t remember anyone asking my permission.’

  ‘It’s a short-term loan, I’m going to pay it back.’

  ‘How much, Erin?’ Tom repeated.

  ‘A few thousand.’

  Chloe and Oli gasped. To them it sounded like a lot of money, but it wasn’t even close to what I’d actually coughed up.

  Tom frowned. ‘A few thousand, what does that mean – three, four, five?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter exactly how much, does it? It was my mistake and I’m going to pay it back out of my own earnings.’ My tone was defensive, almost tetchy, and I regretted it immediately. ‘I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I was an idiot.’

  He got to his feet impatiently. ‘Okay, so unless you’ve got any more shocking revelations …’

  ‘Please don’t go,’ I said. ‘We haven’t resolved anything.’

  ‘What is there to resolve, Erin?’

  I looked at their implacable expressions. I’d envisaged raised voices, swearing, tears. But I’d also hoped our talk would end in an emotional group hug, a silent declaration of our profound and enduring love for each other. I’d imagined it as the start of our healing process, but all I’d done was make matters worse.

  ‘Um … I’m afraid the dinner’s spoilt,’ I mumbled. ‘Shall I cook something else?’

  ‘Not for me,’ Tom replied stiffly. ‘I’m going to make up the spare room.’

  ‘Lost my appetite,’ added Oli. They walked out and went upstairs, leaving me alone with Chloe.

  Clearly she hadn’t finished with me yet. She started playing with a loose strand of hair, twirling it between her fingers thoughtfully.

  ‘Please, darling, don’t look at me like that,’ I said.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. Like … like I’m a pariah.’

  ‘What’s a pariah?’

  ‘An outcast, somebody who’s rejected by everyone.’

  ‘Hmm … yeah … that’s kind of how you made my sister feel,’ she said. ‘Accusing her like that, Mum, it wasn’t good. You jumped to conclusions – you’re always telling me off for doing that. I bet she feels really awful right now, like she’s lost you all over again.’

  I sighed wearily. ‘Look, I’m not saying she was part of the blackmail plot, but she must have some idea who this girl is.’

  ‘Why? You don’t know that.’

  ‘It’s the only explanation that makes sense. She had the adoption file—’

  ‘So? She could have got it some other way.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Yeah, but you don’t know for sure, and Jade said she didn’t have anything to do with it. Innocent till proved guilty, yeah? You really, really hurt her. She could be … I don’t know … she could be suicidal right now.’

  ‘Please don’t say that.’

  ‘Remember the state she was in when she turned up? You’ve got to talk to her, Mum, sort it out.’

  ‘But how?’ I wailed. ‘I don’t know where she lives, or even her real name. The other girl told me her surname was Robinson, but she probably made it up. I don’t have her phone number – all I’ve got is an email address.’

  ‘Then send her a message!’ She rose to her feet, eyes blazing.

  ‘Yes, yes … of course … you’re right …’

  ‘Tell her you love her and you totally believe she had nothing to do with the blackmail thing.’

  ‘Okay, yes. I will.’ I stood up and reached out to embrace her. ‘Thanks, Chloe. You’re the only who seems to care, who has any sympathy.’

  ‘It’s my sister I care about, not you,’ she said, backing away. ‘Email her. Now. Before it’s too late.’

  She went upstairs. I was shaking with emotion, but immediately opened my laptop and signed into my account. My daughter had struck hard with her words, but she was right. Jade was clearly a fragile young woman. If she did anything stupid, I’d never forgive myself.

  There was no time to deliberate. Trusting in my instincts for once, I typed the first words that came into my head.

  Dear Jade,

  * * *

  I’m so sorry about what happened today. I was wrong to accuse you – I absolutely believe you had nothing to do with the scam. You did nothing wrong – it was all my fault. Please get in touch asap. We can sort this out.

  * * *

  I love you.

  * * *

  Mum xxx

  As I sent the message into the ether, I let out a long, deep sigh. It was as if I’d been holding my breath for hours.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Erin

  March 1995

  Now that the secret’s out, it’s like my baby feels free to expand. She stretches her limbs, pretends to be a starfish, curls into a ball and somersaults, kicks and nudges and digs and pokes. My belly looks as if somebody has pumped it up like a ball. I lie in bed stroking my skin – soft yet taut, stretched like a drum – feeling blindly for fists, heels and elbows, playing hide-and-seek with the daughter I’m never going to know.

  I was sure all along she was a girl, and a recent scan confirmed it. The doctors are being very conscientious over me now. I think it’s because she’s going to be adopted. It’s all been decided. Not by me, though. I’m only fifteen and seem to have no say in the matter. Much to my parents’ endless shame, we have been assigned a social w
orker, who visits to check on me and explain everything so I know what to expect. What’s there to explain? I’ll give birth and then the baby will be taken away. Or rather, she will remain in the hospital after I leave. I’m a vessel, a carrier, a temporary shelter; soon my services will no longer be required.

  Nobody talks to me about the emotional impact of giving my child away to strangers. If I’m to feel anything at all, it’s positive. How could I possibly feel sad when I know she will be better off without me? How dare I feel grief for the loss of something I never wanted in the first place?

  Except I do want her now, emotionally, physically, instinctively. We have already bonded, already made our private, unspoken vows to each other. It doesn’t matter who brings her up, feeds and clothes her, puts a roof over her head, picks her up when she falls, guides her through life; she will always belong to me. I will never stop thinking about her. Every day I’ll blow a kiss that will fly through the ether until it finds her cheek.

  This overwhelming, everlasting love is my new secret. Any hint that I would like to keep the baby is slapped down by my mother. She hates me for what I’ve done to the family. I am a tabloid joke, what they call a ‘gym-slip mum’, although I don’t even know what a gym slip is. My bump is a lot smaller than some of the other women I meet at the clinic. In my mother’s eyes, however, I am huge and horribly noticeable.

  Dad gives me a lift to school every morning on the pretext of looking after my health and making sure I attend, but the real reason is so I don’t have to walk down the road in full view of the neighbours. As if they care. It’s the 1990s – marriages are failing left, right and centre, couples are living together, women are even choosing to have children by themselves. But my parents are older than average and the modern world seems to have passed them by. Mum was forty-two when she gave birth to me – it’s obvious I was a mistake. Not as much of a mistake as the baby I’m carrying, but one nonetheless. My mother took on one extra child she didn’t want and she’s not going to take on another.