I begin to scramble over to him but Carly shouts, ‘Stop’ in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like hers. Confused, my eyes find hers. They are full of fear and regret, but something else.
Anger.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Carly
Now
Carly watches as Leah’s confused expression morphs to fear when she sees the glint of the knife Carly is brandishing in her hand.
‘What are you doing?’ Leah’s voice is high.
‘Did you know?’ Carly demands as she bundles Archie onto her lap. He is warm and soft. She loves him so very much.
‘What’s wrong with Archie?’ Leah inches forward, stopping when she sees the blade swish dangerously close to Archie’s beautiful waxy face. ‘Carly!’
‘I gave him one of your sleeping tablets. Answer me.’
‘Answer what?’
‘About Marie. Did. You. Know?’ She shouts now, but it doesn’t really matter what Leah says, Carly knows she won’t believe her.
Chapter Seventy
Leah
Now
‘Marie?’ I repeat. Does Carly know that our sister is dead? It’s the only explanation I can think of that might go some small way to explaining her erratic behaviour but if there’s a chance, however tiny, that she doesn’t know I don’t want to tell her right now. She’s already teetering on the edge, I can’t be the one to push her over. I don’t know why she’s given Archie a sleeping tablet. I don’t know why she’s brandishing a knife. All I know is that the longer I can keep her talking the better. George must have read my text, he’s always glued to his phone. The police have to be on their way.
Don’t they?
Chapter Seventy-One
Carly
Now
‘Marie knew about the abduction,’ Carly says, her voice monotone.
‘I don’t understand. Knew?’
‘Before it happened. Mum was in on it too, apparently. She must have hated us even then.’
When Carly first found out the truth she had believed Marie’s assurances that Leah hadn’t known their parents’ plan, but the more she had thought about it the more she became convinced that was a lie.
Another one.
They were twins. They shared everything.
Leah takes a sharp intake of breath. In the dim, milky light Carly can see her face is the colour of flour. Carly thinks she might have got it wrong. Leah might not have known. She’s always worn her heart on her sleeve. It was Marie who was always the actress. It appears she might have fooled them both.
‘Your dad—’
‘Don’t call him that,’ Leah says sharply.
‘Simon was planning it with Mum. Marie overheard him and Mum talking.’
‘I can’t… I don’t…’
‘It’s true. That was the new angle she was alluding to when she told us about the offer of the TV interview.’
‘No… She was my twin. I would have known. No…’
‘Yes.’
Leah buries her hands in her hair. Carly feels her anguish. Carly has always known how her sisters felt, or she thought she had. She was always the one who wanted to make it better for them but she can’t make this better. No one can. Carly gives Leah a minute. Her heart twists at her sister’s distress. In the silence she hears a scuttling. A burying insect. The memory of the beetles, in her hair, in her mouth returns to her with a punch. So much she has been through because of one man. So much that could have been stopped if Marie had just told the truth.
She feels angry again.
She places her palm flat against Archie’s chest to calm herself. Feels the rise and fall of his rib cage. She grapples for the words to continue. ‘Remember the day before we were snatched when Marie was off school sick? It was because she’d overheard them planning it and she wanted to talk Simon out of it. He… he told her that it wouldn’t be real. It would be like a game. He warned Marie that if it didn’t work we’d all be separated and sent to different homes. He was broke. Remember when she used to say, “This isn’t real. This is just a game. Just pretend.”’
Leah opens her mouth and closes it again. Instead of speaking she nods.
‘She was scared. I get that but…’ Carly’s voice cracks. ‘Our parents betrayed us. Doc and Moustache were the worst kind of people. The world is full of them. But Marie… We were all supposed to have each other’s backs. Sisters. You can’t trust anyone. You really didn’t know, Leah?’
Leah shakes her head violently. ‘I swear, Carly. I swear on Archie’s life.’ Carly believes her but it doesn’t change the way she feels right now.
‘Please.’ Leah stretches out her arms. ‘Please give me Archie. Let’s go home, Carly.’
Carly is torn in a million different pieces. She knows what she’s about to do is the right thing, but it still hurts all the same.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Leah
Now
‘I can’t give you Archie,’ Carly says. ‘He’s too good for this world. Too pure.’
My blood freezes. Ice heavy in my veins. I watch Carly’s hand caress the handle of the knife. Panic bulldozes into me. She wouldn’t, would she? She loves him. She loves me. Marie.
‘Marie.’ All at once my throat is hot and swollen at the thought that has just occurred to me. I’m wrong. I have to be. ‘Marie… is dead.’ The words burn my tongue. I study Carly’s face through my clouded tears. She doesn’t look surprised. ‘I… I found her in the ballroom.’
I fall into silence. So much hinges on Carly’s reaction.
‘I know she’s dead,’ Carly speaks slowly. ‘She’s been dead for days.’
‘How…’ I want to ask how Carly knows that but I’m scared of her answer. I don’t recognize her, this woman with wild, staring eyes and flat robotic voice. She shifts Archie on her lap. The blade is horribly close to his perfect, unblemished skin. What has happened to my sister? Our protector. Marie might have made a mistake by not telling us but she was eight. We were all just children. How can Carly have known that Marie is dead and not tell anyone? To stand shoulder to shoulder with me in the police station, her lips straight and silent, while I tried to report my twin missing. I know Carly’s not coping. I’ve barely seen her this past week. I know she’s been avoiding me but this?
This?
Surely I’m wrong.
I don’t want to ask, but I have to. ‘Carly…’ Just how unbalanced has my sister become? ‘Did you kill Marie?’
Chapter Seventy-Three
Carly
Now
Carly nods her head – yes, I killed Marie – and then she shakes it before nodding it once more. Did she kill her? She really doesn’t know. Something is sandpapering her memories, smoothing away the blunt edge of reality. She pushes her tongue into the gap in her mouth where the tooth that had been knocked out the day they were taken used to sit. Is it her fault? Is it her fault again? She thinks it is.
‘Get your coat. You’re coming with me,’ Carly had told Marie that day in her sister’s flat when she had expected to leave with her forgotten phone but instead was handed the cold, hard truth. Her stepdad had tried to set her up, her alone. Her mum had known. Marie had known. Probably Leah, too, she had thought. The world in which she had always felt unsafe now felt even darker, more dangerous, as though she’d be better off without it. As though the world would be better off without her. All along it had been Leah that Marie had wanted to save. Leah. Not her.
Never her.
‘Where are we going?’ Marie’s face creased with anxiety.
‘To the cashpoint. I’ll give you some money. Not enough, but some, but we’re not doing the TV interview.’ Carly had felt shock and confusion but rising to the surface a deep sense of shame. She’d loved her sister completely. Both her sisters. She was such a fool. She’d give Marie what she had in the bank and then she was cutting her off. Her and Leah.
‘Thanks. Afterwards, can you drop me somewhere?’
‘Where?’
Marie told her where she wanted to go and Carly wished she had never asked.
‘Carly. I do love you. Sisters.’ Marie offers her little finger: ‘A pinkie promise can’t be broke, Or you’ll disappear in a puff of smoke…’ Carly didn’t join in, leaving her arms by her sides. Marie trailed off.
Sisters.
But they weren’t, not really. Her and mum. Leah, Marie and Dad. Two jigsaw pieces forced together to try and complete a picture of a happy family but they didn’t fit.
Marie dropped her hand but still wore the trace of a smile on her lips. Anger burned among Carly’s confusion. Marie looked different. Lighter somehow. Relieved to have shared her secret or relived she was getting her fix. Once again, Carly felt unimportant and alone.
‘Shall we go?’ Marie was bouncing on the balls of her feet, eager to leave. There was no more conversation. No explanation. No further apology.
Although a thousand sorrys couldn’t eradicate the utter despair Carly felt as she trailed Marie down the stairwell.
Her.
It was only ever meant to be her who was taken.
Carly remembers the teeming rain as she had pulled up outside the bank. She remembers withdrawing her daily limit of five hundred pounds. Even if that hadn’t been her limit, there was no more money left to give. Back in the car she had followed Marie’s directions to a pub, wooden boards criss-crossing its windows, paint flaking from the DOG AND DUCK sign swinging cheerily in the breeze. Marie turned to Carly. There was so much Carly wanted to say. So much she wanted to ask. Marie gave a barely detectable nod and attempted a smile, her eyes bright with tears.
‘Say something,’ Carly screamed in her head. ‘Make me understand why I was the one to be sacrificed.’ But Marie was already clicking open the door. The wind blustered inside the car, coating Carly’s cheeks with rain. Carly didn’t care about the weather. Her cheeks were already wet with tears. Marie crossed her arms over her chest and hurried over the road.
From out of the alley stepped a man. He gripped Marie’s chin with his thumb and forefinger before spitting on the pavement beside her. The rain plastered Marie’s hair to her scalp, her thin jacket soaked through. Carly watched as Marie plucked notes from the bundle Carly had given her. He counted them with one hand, the other he thrust between Marie’s legs, laughing as she flinched and backed away. He held out a small parcel and she snatched it before backing off again. He followed her further down the street.
Carly looked around, wondering if anyone would help Marie, but the man’s eyes flickered upwards and Carly saw he’d glanced at the CCTV camera. They continued talking but this time he kept his distance. Carly couldn’t bear to watch any more. Marie had made her choice just as Carly had made hers. She shifted the car into first gear and pulled away. In her rear-view mirror she saw the man hold out something to Marie who snatched it and put it in her pocket before walking away. Carly braked. Her fingers drumming on the steering wheel. If she reverses it would never end. She would never break free. Marie was a mess. They all were a mess.
Family.
Except they weren’t now. Not really. They had made their choice to single out Carly. Her parents. Her sisters.
Marie raised her arm at a passing cab. Carly took comfort that she was off the streets at least.
She released the handbrake and drove away but as she was passing a lay-by she pulled in, rested her forehead on the steering wheel and wept.
By the time Carly arrived home, anger was again her overriding emotion. She picked up the phone and, pacing the lounge, she called the only person who could make her feel better.
‘Hello.’
‘Mum’ was all she could say before she was crying again. One word. Three letters that should mean so many things – love, protection, stability, strength – and it didn’t mean any of them.
‘Carly? What’s wrong?’ There was concern in her mum’s voice but this only made Carly cry harder.
She wiped her nose with her sleeve and tried to stem her tears. ‘Marie has told me.’
‘Told you what?’
‘Everything.’
There’s a pause. The sound of her mum’s breath coming faster. ‘It’s not true,’ she said at last.
‘So you know what I’m talking about?’ Carly slumped onto her sofa.
‘What? No, of course not. Just… just that Marie drinks too much and whatever she’s told you is probably a lie. What did she say?’
‘You knew,’ Carly said softly.
‘I didn’t… I swear…’
‘You. Knew,’ Carly said, louder this time.
‘It was complicated. We were in a terrible situation. I thought we were doing the right thing for you all. If you were a parent you’d understand—’
‘And whose fault is it I don’t have a family of my own? That I can’t bear the thought of ending up like Leah. Terrified that every time Archie is out of her sight someone will take him, and I would be like that. Scared that I’d brought a child into a world that is full of monsters. You, Mum. You’re a monster.’
‘Don’t say that. I…’ Her mum was crying. It was the first time in years Carly had felt any emotion from her.
‘Was it really only ever meant to be me that was taken? Not Leah or Marie?’
‘Yes. Just you.’ Her mum’s voice was thin.
Carly waited. Prepared to listen. Desperate to understand.
‘Are you going to tell anyone? The police?’ her mum asked. Questions not apologies. Worried for herself, not for her daughter. Carly let the phone drop from her hand. She scrunched herself into a ball of sorrow.
Later, Carly’s phone buzzed with a message. She unfurled herself and rubbed her sore eyes before picking up her handset, convinced it would be her mum.
It wasn’t.
The text was from Marie.
So sorry for what we put you through. Back to where it all started. My final dance. You don’t have to worry about me again.
Carly didn’t hesitate. She scooped up her car keys and raced to Norwood. It was dark when she arrived. Shining her mobile ahead of her for light, she made for the room they’d been held captive in. Carly felt fevered. Detached. As though she was having a hallucination. The room was smaller than she remembered but empty. Dizziness engulfed her and she realized she wasn’t breathing. She didn’t want to breathe this filthy fucking air. She ran back outside.
‘Marie!’
Where could she be? Had she got it wrong and she wasn’t at Norwood at all? Her eyes scanned the text. Two words sprang out: last dance.
‘Marie!’ Carly raced towards the ballroom. Her feet slip-sliding in the mud. Skidding on the steps. She crunched over broken glass, hurdled over upturned benches in the cinema briefing room.
Marie was in the ballroom, slumped on a pile of blankets. Her belt tightened around her arm, needle protruding from her vein. The expression on her face was peaceful, happy almost. Carly dropped hard onto her knees. Fingers fumbling for a pulse, but the blood in Marie’s veins was still. Carly held her for a long time. Loving her and hating her all at once. Envying her too. She had found the peace they’d all craved.
She didn’t know what to do. Again, she was left feeling to blame. Carrying the burden of guilt. If she hadn’t given Marie the money she’d still be alive. It was always her fault.
Always.
She was furious that again one of the Sinclairs had done something else to try and ruin her. She felt like she was broken.
As angry as she was, she couldn’t just leave Marie. Carly was gentle as she eased her hands into Marie’s armpits and dragged her over to the centre of the room. She walked slowly, collecting cardboard, broken pallets, building a pile over Marie much like the one that had been there before. It was there she left her.
Forever hiding.
Forever safe.
‘Oh Carly,’ Leah said softly. ‘It wasn’t your fault. If you hadn’t given her the money, she’d have found it somehow. Addicts always do. She loved you. Please never doubt that. We
all love you. You are our sister and we never thought of you as any different.’
‘Everyone lied to me.’
‘Mum lied to me too.’
‘It’s not the same. Did you know it was only meant to be me?’ Carly hated how small her voice sounded. How needy.
‘What was?’
‘The abduction. Marie was supposed to get me into the alley on my own. Two men to take one girl. One mattress. One blanket. One teddy.’
‘Carly, I didn’t… I can’t imagine…’ There’s a beat. ‘Look, I’m sure it was because you were the oldest…’
But Carly knew it was because she was the least loved. Her fingers played with Archie’s hair. ‘It was only meant to be me,’ she said again sadly. ‘It all has to end. Now.’
Chapter Seventy-Four
Leah
Now
My heart breaks for Carly. Finally I am free from the guilt that it wasn’t my fault – that I likely had shut the gate properly but Marie had opened it again – but instead I am burdened with the knowledge that my dad – Simon – had formulated his plan around Carly as if she didn’t matter. After all his talk about family, about treating the girls the same despite Carly not being his, he didn’t care. The knowing that, after years of thinking otherwise, he had perhaps loved Marie and me doesn’t bring any comfort.
We were sisters. We felt what each other felt. The horror. The burden. The grief. The fear.
‘Everything that has happened the past few days, was it all you?’ I ask Carly – for the first time it occurs to me that Simon wasn’t behind any of it. ‘Did you send me the countdown letters?’
‘Yes. I wrote myself the same letters so you wouldn’t suspect me.’
‘I’d never have suspected you… Was all of it you? The mice? The teddy? The cross around his neck?’
‘Yes,’ she says simply. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t think clearly after Marie had confessed. There was the buzzing in my head. I wasn’t thinking. I just went home and went to bed. The next day when you took us to Marie’s flat and let us in with the spare key, it seemed easier to scribble a note from her in the kitchen, saying that she’d gone on tour. You were in the bedroom. I didn’t think it through, it just happened.’ Carly had always been good at forging handwriting, faking letters from Mum to the school to get herself out of PE. ‘There was this feeling, Leah, that if I called the police they’d blame me for Marie’s death. Everyone would blame me for Marie. You were always the nation’s favourites, the cute pigtailed twins. I was… an awkward teenager. Now I’m an awkward adult. I couldn’t face it all around the anniversary. And…’ Carly wipes the tears from her cheeks with the hand that still grips the knife. ‘I don’t know. I thought you knew. I hated you both for… for being born, I suppose. Ruining Mum’s life. My life. I wished it was just her and me again in our tiny flat, eating chicken nuggets.’
The Stolen Sisters: from the bestselling author of The Date and The Sister comes one of the most thrilling, terrifying and shocking psychological thrillers of 2020 Page 26
