The Perfect Mother (ARC)
Page 28
There was movement as she pressed against my ribcage.
The thought of her entry into the world was making me
sick with nerves. It was not the prospect of giving birth
that worried me; it was what would happen the second
she was born.
A door slammed on the floor above and a muffled
argument ensued. I knew it was about me. My basement
accommodation may have been luxurious, but it was not
soundproof. Slowly, I crept around the apartment and
fetched a chair. As I dragged it to the air vent, its legs
scraped the wooden floor. I bent my knees as I stepped
up on to it, trying to hold it still. It was risky, but it was the best place to hear what was going on above. I held
my breath as I listened for key words. They thought that
I couldn’t hear them, but I knew what they had done.
Air conditioning blasted from the ceiling, and I snuffled
through my congestion. It was too dry, too cold, and
goose bumps rose on my skin. The argument descended
into soft murmurs. A decision had been made.
I waited for the whirr of the lift, but no movement
came.
Groaning, I climbed down from the chair. Then I
heard it: soft steps. Quiet voices as a lock was turned with a key. I grabbed my knife, scurrying over to the door that
was always closed. They were out there, in the corridor.
Sheridan was telling Mike not to wake me. My fingers
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tightened around the knife. I was shaking, my breath
trembling on my lips as adrenalin coursed through my
veins.
‘She’s in there,’ I heard Sheridan say; yet they walked
past my door.
‘I remember when she went missing,’ Mike replied.
‘I can’t believe she was here all this time.’
What? My frown deepened as I pressed my ear against the door. Their voices trailed away. I thought Mike was
here to kill me, but had I heard wrong? My back ach-
ing, I grabbed a blanket and took a seat on the nearest
chair. I needed to be on my guard. I needed to be ready
for anything.
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CHAPTER FIFTY
Roz
Footsteps echoed above my head. What now? My breathing
was shallow as I strained to hear every sound. Straightening my aching body, I rose from the chair. I had been sitting
there for what felt like hours, but now it was apparent
that Sheridan and Mike had gone back upstairs. I flexed
my puffy ankles. My limbs had finally stopped trem-
bling from the flow of adrenalin in my veins. I ground
my fist into my lower back. I had more pressing things
on my mind than my pregnancy discomforts. Upstairs
had turned eerily quiet. Where were Sheridan and Mike
now? I grabbed the plaid blanket I had wrapped around
myself and threw it back on the bed. The lift was being
called. This was it.
My lower back sent another dart of pain through me as
I waddled over to my wardrobe. It provided good cover,
and I pressed my body against the side. A bead of sweat
broke out on my forehead. It was now or never for me
and my baby. The lift was coming, those dreaded mech-
anisms locking into place as it brought its occupant down.
I raised my hand above my head, ready to slice down
with the knife. My heartbeat pounded like thunder in
my ears. I could smell my own fear as perspiration laced
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my skin. Even if I stabbed my captor, I still had to make
it upstairs and escape.
But the person who exited the lift was not Sheridan.
It was Daniel, and I was flooded with relief. I watched
him approach my bed, my gaze falling to his hand. He
was holding something … a Hershey’s bar. That was
when I knew I could not stab him in the back. Such ac-
tions were only seen in movies. I was not strong enough.
Confusion streaked his face as he pulled back the covers
to see a pillow underneath. For a second, his expression
changed to one of panic, and he strained to see in the
dim light.
‘Roz?’ he said, trying to switch on my bedside light.
But Sheridan had had the bulb removed. I stepped out
of the shadows and he inhaled a sharp breath as the knife
glinted in my hand.
‘Roz?’ he repeated as he slowly approached. ‘What
are you doing?’
His hands were held up in surrender; he looked tired
but worried. I took in his tousled hair, his sweatshirt and jeans. He must have travelled through the night. But
where were Sheridan and Mike?
‘Stay where you are,’ I said, holding up the blade.
Raising his palms in a gesture of assurance, Daniel
forced a smile, but he could not hide the concern behind
his eyes. ‘Come on, no need for that. I know you won’t
hurt me.’ His voice was low and comforting, with another
empty promise ready to roll off his tongue.
‘You left me,’ I said, the knife trembling in my hand.
‘You left me for dead.’
‘Oh, Roz … I’m sorry. Hasn’t Sheridan been looking
after you?’ He looked from left to right, taking in my
laundry, the unkempt room.
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‘Nobody’s spoken to me since you went. I’ve had one
meal a day dropped on to the floor. Prisoners on death
row are treated better than this.’
Daniel exhaled a low breath. Ran his fingers through
his hair. ‘Christ. I’m sorry. She said she was looking after you.’
‘And you believed her?’ My voice cracked. ‘You know
she hates me!’
‘I’m sorry. You’re right. But please … put down the
knife.’ Another step forward. He held up his hand. ‘C’mon
… you don’t want to hurt me. Whatever’s wrong … I’ll
make it right.’
He was right. I couldn’t hurt him. But I wasn’t threat-
ening to. I turned my knife to my stomach.
‘Take one step towards me and I’ll do it,’ I said. ‘I’ll
kill my baby, then myself. Then at least we’ll be together.’
‘No.’ Daniel paled at the sound of this horrific threat.
‘You don’t mean it.’
‘I’m a Catholic, Daniel. I believe in heaven.’
Daniel retorted instantly, ‘Not if you take your own
life.’
But I was ready with an answer of my own.
‘Unchristened babies go to limbo, the same place as people
who commit suicide. I’d rather spend eternity with my
baby than another minute down here.’
It worked. Daniel froze as uncertainty twisted his
features. He was not in an action movie. Without his
lines, he didn’t know what to do.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said to the baby. ‘But it’s better this way.’
The words tumbled from my mouth and I wondered if I
really had been driven to this. Was I cracking up or play-
ing a part, joining in with Sheridan and Daniel’s games?
It felt good to take back some control.
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‘Wait!’ Daniel fumbled in his pocket. ‘Here,
take my
keys.’
I watched with astonishment as he threw them in my
direction. They skidded against the wooden floor, sliding
towards me with a jingle of promise. ‘Turn right at the
top of the stairwell. Follow the exit sign.’
‘Where’s Mike?’ I asked, working out my chances of
escape. But I was met with a blank expression. ‘He was
here before you turned up.’
‘Mike?’ A shadow crossed Daniel’s face. ‘You’re wrong.
Mike wasn’t here.’
I had hit a nerve, and I was ready to capitalise on it.
‘He was. I heard Sheridan talking to him. She said she
couldn’t forget their first kiss. Then she snuck him in
through the back entrance, but a little while later, you
came in.’ I cursed my inability to hear everything that
had gone on. What had happened between Mike being
here and Daniel turning up? ‘Stay where you are,’ I in-
structed, as I approached the door. ‘I mean it … Follow
me and I’ll end it.’
‘Roz, if you want to go, then leave. You’re not a
prisoner. I won’t follow you.’ Crestfallen, Daniel sat on
the bed.
My knees weak, I breathed a sigh of relief. I turned
the key in the lock of the thick wooden door. All I could
think of was finally being safe. Of going home.
Relief flooded my system as I slipped through the open
door, and it closed behind me with a satisfying click. I
could almost taste freedom, feel the sun on my skin. But
I had to negotiate my way out of the building first.
In the dim light of the corridor I remembered Daniel’s
words. The stairs were to the left. The surgery straight
ahead. A locked door was on the right. I thought about
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Kelly. About what Sheridan had said. What if she was
still alive? I could not leave her the way others had left
me. I looked from left to right, the door to freedom so
tempting, so close. But still, I turned around. If I didn’t help now, this could haunt me forever.
I crept towards the door and shoved the second key
in. The click seemed like the loudest thing on earth as the lock slid back. I swallowed, my mouth dry. I gripped the
knife in my other hand. Where were Sheridan and Mike?
Tentatively I opened the door, whispering a croaky,
‘Hello?’ It creaked in response, releasing a musty stench.
I covered my nose and mouth with my free hand. The
room was cast in darkness: the blackness of a windowless
space. Was that excrement I could smell? What if Kelly was
alive, being held captive, just like me? I grasped the wall for the light switch, listening for every sound. Flooded
with light, the room revealed its contents. I struggled to
draw breath. My knife fell to the floor.
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CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Roz
‘You should have run when you had the chance.’
The voice was Sheridan’s, but it barely registered with
me. I was on my knees; the strength had left my legs. It felt as if I were in a tunnel, and the rest of the world seemed
so very far away. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
But I was aware of the implications. I’d heard a strange
noise while sitting in the other room – a repetitive chuck, chuck sound. I’d blamed the building. Presumed it was
the pipes. But there was something about it that didn’t
quite fit. Only now could I comprehend what it was. A
spade hitting soil. Locked in horror, my gaze was on the
ripped-up floorboards and what lay beneath.
I had come here to find Kelly, only to be faced with a
gaping hole in the centre of the room. I’d forced my feet
to move, one in front of the other, as I crept closer for
a look. How I wished I hadn’t. Believing the grave was
meant for me was easier than facing this. I’d found Kelly
all right, but it was way too late to save her. My stomach
lurched, and I gagged and spat as I threw up into the dirt.
Sheridan was standing behind me now. Yet I could
not avert my eyes from the remains of the body curled up
in the ground. Long strands of white blonde hair peeped
out from the dirt: the same colour as mine. A scrap of
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grey material poked through, like that of the maternity
dress I wore. My dresses weren’t new. They had once
belonged to her. My stomach lurched for a second time
as I realised that I was wearing a dead woman’s clothes.
I saw the tips of Sheridan’s Converse trainers from the
corner of my eyes as she stood over me. I returned my gaze
to the grave and made out the remains of a hand. The sight
of brittle skin and bones made me dry-retch once more. It
was as if Kelly was reaching out to me. Waiting for help
which would never come. My tears flowed through my
fingers as I buried my face in my hands.
‘Please don’t hurt me,’ I begged, both for me and my
baby. ‘I’ll do whatever you want.’ They were monsters.
But it was pointless trying to fight them, because they
would always win.
‘Shhh now … it’s OK,’ Sheridan said, even though
we both knew it was not.
I had been so close to freedom. But the ground crum-
bled beneath my feet as I came face to face with the
aftermath of Sheridan and Daniel’s acts.
As Sheridan faced me, I could not meet her eye.
‘C’mon,’ she said, with authority. ‘Back to your room.’
I dragged myself to my feet. ‘It’s Kelly, isn’t it?’ I wiped my tears with my sleeve, short sharp bursts of anguish
stealing my breath.
‘How … how do you know about her?’ She seemed
astonished by my knowledge but didn’t deny it.
My gaze returned to the hole in the ground. ‘Am I…?’ I
could barely utter the words. ‘Am I next?’ I looked around
the room. This was a place of death. I smelt the decay,
felt the absence of hope. I rested my hand on my chest,
which had grown tight as I clawed for breath. ‘Please. I
won’t tell anyone … Let … let me go.’
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‘I won’t tell you again.’ Sheridan’s words were cold,
her eyes dark. ‘Back in your room.’
I touched the wall to steady myself, my eyes on the
object in her hand. There was no arguing. No fighting
and no running away. Sheridan was holding a gun.
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CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Sheridan
Sheridan held the gun with confidence as she prodded it
into Roz’s back. She enjoyed the feel of the cold metal
in her hand. The safety catch was on; she didn’t want to
shoot. She would never hurt her baby, for a start. She’d
had her doubts about Roz, but now Daniel was home,
all would be well. She flicked her head to one side. This
place gave her the creeps.
‘Move!’
With the gun to her back, Roz had no choice but
to comply. At least Sheridan could stop pretending.
Everything was out in the open now. Their little tri-
slowly revealed. She was looking forward to filling Roz
in. Roz’s eyes flicked to the knife on the ground where
it had fallen from her grip.
‘Go ahead … pick it up…’ Sheridan said sarcastically.
‘If you want a bullet in your brain. Daniel might fall for
your suicidal bullshit, but I won’t.’
Roz looked longingly at the knife one last time before
the last spark of defiance left her eyes. After months in
captivity and escaping to find this … Sheridan had finally
broken her.
Sheridan paused to pick the knife up from the floor.
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‘Where did you get it?’
‘My food tray. Someone must have left it there by
mistake.’
‘There are no mistakes when it comes to looking after
you,’ Sheridan sniffed. ‘Still, I’ll get to the bottom of it.
Now, get moving, it stinks in here.’
* * *
In the short journey from Kelly’s grave to her basement
accommodation, Roz seemed to fall into shock. Her
shoulders hunched, she hugged her stomach, shuffling to
her room as if she were on her way to the gallows. Life
had given up on her, and now she was doing the same in
return. With Daniel’s keys safely in her pocket, Sheridan
returned Roz to the room. Now it was time for her to
experience the other side of the Sheridani coin.
Daniel tutted as they entered, his features creased in
concern. ‘Sheridan said you weren’t well, but I didn’t
think it was as bad as this.’
Sheridan watched, the gun tucked into the waistband
of her jeans.
‘I’ll have Anna bring you a nice hot chocolate. She
can strip your bed while she’s here, wash your things.’
Daniel smoothed down Roz’s hair. ‘We’ll fire up Netflix.
How about that?’
Sheridan rolled her eyes. He was trying too hard.
Why must he pander to her?
Roz’s teeth began to chatter, her face chalky-white.
Daniel looked to the young woman for a response.
‘Roz?’
‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I’d like that.’
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‘Good girl.’ Daniel wrapped a blanket around her
shoulders, gently guiding her to the sofa. ‘Anna will be
with you soon.’
He smiled as he left her, but the smile dropped from
his face the second he joined Sheridan in the lift. ‘What
the hell were you up to? I told you to leave Kelly be!’ His words were harsh, his eyes narrowed.