What She Saw: A gripping psychological thriller with a heart-pounding twist

by Wendy Clarke

‘So now you know why the police can’t be involved. Say something, Scott. Anything.’

  Slowly, Scott raises his head and I’m shocked to see tears on his cheeks. It’s the first time I’ve seen him cry. ‘Beth must never know.’

  ‘Of course not. Now you know, everything will be so much better.’ I’m talking quickly. Scared of his expression.

  His face tightens. ‘I didn’t know we had a problem.’

  ‘We haven’t, of course we haven’t, but now that everything’s in the open, we can start to live a proper life. One without secrets.’

  ‘It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?’ His voice has a coldness to it I’ve never heard before. ‘And here’s something for you to think about. I never had any secrets, Leona. It was only you who did.’

  He gets up and walks to the coat rack in the lobby. Takes his jacket from the hook.

  The blood chills in my veins. ‘What are you doing, Scott?’

  He looks at me as though he doesn’t know me. ‘I’m going out. I need some air.’

  I’m standing now, my hands helpless at my sides. ‘But don’t you want to talk about it?’

  ‘There’s nothing to talk about. The Leona I fell in love with would never have lied to me this way. Kept something so important from me.’

  I grab his arm. ‘But it’s still me, Scott. I’m still the same person.’

  ‘No,’ he says, tears dripping into his beard. ‘You’re not.’

  Forty

  Beth

  ‘What’s going on, Mum?’

  Beth took the last step into the living room and stood with her hands in the pockets of her jeans, waiting for the onslaught. She’d been dreading the moment she’d have to come down and face the music, but now she was here, she realised something had happened in her absence. Her dad was nowhere to be seen and her mum’s eyes were red and swollen.

  Instead of answering her question, her mum turned to the window and looked out.

  ‘He’s told you, hasn’t he? About me and David.’

  She had no idea what her dad had told her mum – she and her dad had come home in silence and, once through the door, she’d run straight upstairs and into her room.

  Her mum turned to look at her, dragging her hair back from her face with her fingers. She looked distracted. ‘David?’

  ‘Yes, David. That’s his name, Mum… The guy I’ve been seeing.’

  When her mum said nothing, Beth threw herself onto the settee. ‘Well, aren’t you going to say something? Tell me he’s too old for me? Go on! If you don’t, I’m sure there’ll be others queuing up to do the honours.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Lily. Not everything is about you!’

  Beth’s head shot up. ‘What did you call me?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Her mum took a step back. ‘It was nothing.’

  Beth had never seen her mum like this – her eyes so haunted. It scared her.

  ‘It wasn’t nothing, Mum. You called me Lily.’ She searched her face, trying desperately to figure out what was going on in her head. ‘Who is Lily?’

  Her mum had gone pale. ‘Nobody. Forget I said it.’

  But Beth couldn’t forget it. She knew that name. It was the one on the birth certificate upstairs. The room was beginning to swim and she closed her eyes. She felt herself being pulled back into the grip of memory. Spider-legged fringes on the shade of a light on the wall. A big double bed. Her mum’s cheek against hers. Sleep tight, Lily-Beth. Sleep tight, darling.

  She felt numb with shock. ‘It’s me, isn’t it, Mum? Lily is me.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Her mum was beside her now, but it was as if all the strength had gone out of her body. She slumped onto the settee, holding one of the cushions against her chest as though it were a shield. ‘I didn’t want you to find out like this.’

  ‘What do you mean? I find out I have two names and you say there might be a better time for me to discover it? And the other birth certificate? Whose is that?’

  Her mum looked shocked. ‘How do you know about that?’

  ‘I’m not an idiot, Mum. If it was me, I’d have found a better hiding place than the wardrobe.’

  ‘You had no right…’

  ‘And you had no right to keep this from me. Are you going to tell me who the other certificate belongs to, or am I going to have to ask Dad?’

  Her mum’s face fell. ‘It belonged to your brother. His name was Samuel.’

  Beth’s anger was hot and red. ‘Christ! I have a brother and you never thought to tell me!’

  ‘Had a brother, Beth. He died when he was just a few weeks old.’ Her mum swallowed. ‘It was a cot death.’

  Another memory loosened. A pale moon and stars rotating above her head. A baby’s cry. Beth’s anger collapsed, folding in upon itself. ‘How old was I, Mum… when he died?’

  ‘You were just four.’

  Too young to remember properly.

  ‘But why the different name, Mum? Why call me Beth when my name’s Lily?’

  Uncertainty crossed her mum’s face. It was clear she was struggling to find an answer.

  ‘Your father – your real father, that is – he did things that he shouldn’t have. He made it very difficult for us to live with him.’

  Beth had never given this shadowy figure from the past much thought. For almost as far back as she could remember, Scott had been her dad and she’d never needed to know more.

  ‘What things?’ The question hung between them and, for the first time, Beth felt the beginnings of fear. ‘Tell me, Mum. What was it he did?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. All you need to know, Beth, is that they were bad enough that I needed to move us as far away from him as possible. I changed your name for your own safety. For several months, I called you Lily-Beth to help you get used to your new name, and by the time I dropped the Lily part of it, you didn’t think anything of it.’

  ‘And Dad… Scott. Does he know any of this?’

  Her mum’s head hung down as if defeated. ‘Some – not everything. It’s what we were talking about when you came down. He’s been worried about me – the way I’ve been these last few weeks. The panic attacks. I couldn’t keep it from him any longer.’

  Beth felt fury bubble up inside her. ‘So you thought you’d tell him and not your own daughter?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that.’

  ‘Then what was it like? No, don’t bother to tell me. I don’t even want to know. Where is Dad?’

  ‘He’s gone out for a bit to clear his head. It’s been a shock for him too.’ Her mum’s voice sounded strained. Pulling a tissue from her pocket, she blew her nose.

  Beth looked around her. The room, the settee with its array of coloured cushions, the window with the green fells captured within its frame, looked alien – as though she’d never seen them before. First, her dad had found out about her and David, and now this. Scott had been the only father she’d known. He’d brought her up as his own and she loved him more than anything. He was a down-to-earth man, saying things as they were. What would he have made of these new revelations?

  She couldn’t speak. If she did, she knew she would cry. She’d already lost David, but what if her dad didn’t come back? What if she’d lost him too?

  Forty-One

  Leona

  ‘Thank you so much for agreeing to speak to me, Lisa.’ I fight to keep the desperation out of my voice. ‘I didn’t think you’d be able to, now I’ve told you I’m no longer on the programme.’

  Going over to the door, I close it, although there’s no way Beth is going to hear what I’m saying as the thud, thud of music is coming through the ceiling from her bedroom.

  ‘I’m happy to speak to you as a private client, either in person or over the phone, Leona.’ I haven’t spoken to Lisa for nearly three weeks and her voice is like a balm. I press my mobile to my ear in the vain hope that it might calm me. ‘But the decision you’ve made to leave Witness Protection is a big one. I just hope it’s the right one for all of you.’
>
  I try to hold my voice steady, but I know it’s in danger of breaking. ‘I told Scott about Gareth. He didn’t take it well and has been staying with his mum for the last few weeks – to get some head space, is how he put it, but I’m scared he might leave me altogether.’ The words come out in a rush, the final sentence ending in a sob.

  ‘I’m very sorry, Leona.’ There’s sympathy in her voice. ‘That must be terribly hard. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about today?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know anything any more.’ Since he left, I’ve been in limbo, unable to do even the simplest of tasks.

  ‘Does he know about the baby?’

  I shake my head although she can’t see. ‘There doesn’t seem any point now.’

  ‘It might make a difference. I think you need to tell him.’

  ‘I just don’t know how I can now.’ Thinking of Scott brings tears to my eyes.

  ‘And Beth? It won’t be long before she guesses. You won’t be able to hide your pregnancy forever.’

  ‘I know, but I just feel so bad for her. She’d started to seem so much happier.’

  ‘Why is that, do you think?’ Lisa asks.

  I think of the invitation pinned to the noticeboard beside my workbench. Year 11 Art Exhibition printed on it. It’s tomorrow evening. In the envelope there had also been a note from Mrs Snowdon, checking I’d be there, as she had an exciting surprise for me.

  ‘She’s been doing better at school recently and she’s got some of her artwork on display, which she’s excited about. I know how much her art means to her. I just wish she knew how much she means to me.’ In truth, my daughter is the only thing keeping me going at the moment.

  ‘Then it’s important you show her. Go and see her exhibition, then you can tell her how brilliant you think she is.’

  I sigh. ‘She might not want me to. It’s not just Scott who knows about my lies. I called Beth “Lily” by mistake and had to tell her the truth. So now they both know. God, it’s such a mess.’

  ‘Does she know everything?’

  ‘Not the whole truth – just that her name was once Lily and that we’d moved to the Lake District because of something her father – her real father, that is – had done.’

  Lisa’s voice remains calm. ‘She had to know sometime.’

  Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by tears. Big, ugly tears that trickle down my chin. It’s hard to catch my breath between the sobs. ‘I’ve ruined her life as it is, without adding a baby to the equation.’

  ‘It’s going to be all right, Leona. Just let it all out. You’ve had a difficult time of it recently.’

  ‘I… I… thought I wanted to get rid of it. The baby.’ My shoulders heave. ‘But, I don’t think I can. I can’t do it.’

  ‘Tell me what it is you’re afraid of, Leona. Is it because of the cot death? Are you afraid it might happen again?’

  Wrapping my arms around my body, I rock back and forth. Remembering. Hating myself. ‘It’s not just that. It’s something else.’

  ‘I think it might help you to talk about what happened. It’s not good to bottle things up. I realise why you haven’t been able to tell Scott, but with me it’s different. I know your story… your background.’

  ‘Yes.’ I wipe away the tears with the heel of my hand. I want to tell someone. If I don’t, I’m scared I’ll go mad.

  ‘Would you like to make an appointment to see me tomorrow?’

  ‘No, the phone is fine.’ If I don’t tell her straight away, I might chicken out.

  ‘I’ll let Ria tell you.’

  Forty-Two

  Ria

  It was a difficult birth. Samuel had arrived into the world red-faced and screaming and, after he’d fought the breast for two days, Ria had given up and given him a bottle. As she looked at his tiny, screwed-up face and wide eyes, she tried to find the feelings she’d had for Lily in the early days. That overwhelming love that would make her give her life for this tiny child.

  When she couldn’t find those feelings, guilt made her do the very best she could for him. It wasn’t Samuel’s fault that she felt this way, and he would never get any affection from his father, for Gareth had made it clear from the start that he didn’t want another crying baby in the house. Not that Lily had cried much. She’d always been a quiet child.

  Every day was the same. Each morning, Ria would drag herself out of bed and into some sort of routine. She’d taught Lily to stay in her room until she came to get her, so as not to wake her father, then together they’d tiptoe to the kitchen. Lily would sit at the marble island with a bowl of cereal and Ria would lie Samuel in the carrycot she kept downstairs so that she could make Gareth his breakfast. It was important to have it ready for him once he’d had his shower and stopped at the hall mirror to check his hair. She didn’t want to give him any excuses to get angry. Not when the health visitor could call round at any time.

  Some days were better than others. There were times when Gareth had gone to work, and she was sitting on the floor playing with Lily or pushing the pram through the private gardens outside their flat, that she’d forget what it was she was afraid of. Forget the way her heart would stop when she heard his key in the door at the end of the day.

  These were the good days. The days when she told herself she was getting anxious about nothing. Gareth was a good husband. He provided for his family. If he was angry at times, it was because she should have been more mindful of his needs: made sure Lily’s toys had been picked up before he got home, or that the baby wasn’t crying. Gareth, Gareth, Gareth. One excuse after another. Never his fault.

  She never saw Leo now and, when her parents rang, she made excuses not to speak to them for long, knowing that it would put Gareth into a bad mood if he found out. They were trying to turn her against him, he’d say. They were old-fashioned and didn’t understand the way their marriage worked.

  He was right – they didn’t. No one did.

  And, always, there was the overwhelming tiredness. The bone-aching exhaustion that made her head ache and her eyes feel as though they had been sanded. Samuel woke two or three times every night, his face screwed-up and red, his cry making her rush to pick him up. Petrified he’d wake Gareth.

  She’d take him to the kitchen for his bottle, praying he wouldn’t fight it as he usually did. Unlike Lily, who had settled happily to her feed, it would sometimes take an hour to get a few millilitres of milk inside him. She’d change him and then pace the kitchen floor with him over her shoulder, scared that her husband had been disturbed. When at last Samuel fell into a fitful sleep, she’d return him to his crib and lie on top of the covers of her bed, ears pricked for the slightest sound that would tell her he had woken again.

  As the weeks went on, she found it harder and harder to function. Her tiredness was a burden she carried with her whatever she was doing and, when she looked in the mirror, she was shocked by the dark circles under her eyes. The health visitor had stopped coming and she knew she should go to the doctor, but even the thought of taking the tube to her nearest surgery made her feel like weeping.

  Then, one evening, Gareth came home and threw a packet of tablets into her lap.

  Picking up the box, she looked at it. ‘What are these?’

  ‘Zopiclone. They’ll help you sleep.’

  ‘Where did you get them?’ Ria turned the box over in her hand. ‘Don’t you need a prescription?’

  Gareth went over to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. ‘What does it matter where I got them? They’re in your hand, aren’t they?’ He put the stopper back on the decanter. ‘Ungrateful bitch.’

  Ria flinched. She was glad that Lily was already in bed. ‘I’m sorry. Of course, I’m grateful. It was kind of you to think of me, but I can’t, Gareth. I have to be awake for Samuel.’

  ‘Not if you take a low dose. You’ll get to sleep, but then you’ll wake up if the brat’s screaming.’

  ‘Don’t call him that. He’s your son.’

  ‘T
hat’s what you say. You’re such a slag, it could be any number of people’s bastard. Not that it makes any fucking difference to me.’

  In his carrycot on the floor, Samuel began to cry.

  ‘Fuck this. I’m going out.’

  ‘But you’ve only just got home.’

  Without answering her, Gareth left the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Ria’s body ached with weariness, but there was no one else to pick the baby up. She went over to the carrycot and lifted him out. Since Samuel had been born, Gareth had barely acknowledged him. Surely, he didn’t really believe that he wasn’t the father?

  * * *

  Ria lay in bed watching the green digits of the clock flash the minutes away. Samuel’s last feed had been two and a half hours ago and, as usual, he’d been fractious. Since then she’d been awake, listening to his little sounds and praying he would give her longer this time. She knew it was unlikely, though. He’d wake for another feed in half an hour as he always did, and the thought made her want to cry. All she wanted was some rest, a break from the endless repetition of feeding, changing, and pacing with a baby who wouldn’t settle. If she didn’t fall asleep soon, it would be time to get up and do it all again. She couldn’t face it. She just couldn’t.

  On the bedside table, was the packet of sleeping tablets, a glass of water next to them. Would it hurt to take just one?

  Picking up the box, she opened it and read the leaflet. As Gareth had said, it was a low dosage – just 3.5 milligrams. It would take around an hour to work. If she took one now, Samuel would be fed and changed before they took effect and then she would get three hours’ blissful sleep until the next feed.

  She looked at Gareth’s side of the bed. It was empty. When he got home from wherever he’d been, she knew he would fall onto the bed in the spare room in his clothes and nothing would wake him. There was nothing to stop her feeding the baby here for once.