by Karen Clarke
Jamie was shaking his head. ‘She obviously never got over losing her mother,’ he said. ‘And I didn’t even know she was dead.’
‘That photo in the apartment.’ I looked at him. ‘They weren’t her parents. She doesn’t even have a brother.’
‘I think it’s her Uncle Jack and his wife and their son.’ Betrayal was written all over Jamie’s face. ‘They live in New Zealand, if they actually exist.’
I thought of the picture I’d seen on the wall in Maggie Taylor’s hallway. ‘I think they do.’ My grandson she’d said. I’d thought there was something familiar about the boy, and no wonder. He was Rosa’s cousin, the grown-up version in the photo in her living room.
‘Can you believe she lived around here back then, and we had no idea?’ Jamie said. ‘She even changed her accent.’
‘To be honest, I think I’d believe anything right now.’
‘Obviously, I’ll be moving out once we’re home.’
‘Do Mum and Dad know?’ I said, not sure I could bear it. ‘About all this.’ I indicated the hospital bed, the faded gown I’d been helped into, my ruined clothes in a bag in the corner, my stitches.
‘Not yet.’
‘I’d rather they didn’t.’
Jamie’s forehead contracted. ‘We can’t not tell them.’
‘Maybe not everything.’ Coming to terms with almost losing me once had nearly undone our family. Knowing it had nearly happened again – that it wasn’t an accident this time – might be too much. Rosa had said we were strong and it was true, we’d come through a lot, but I didn’t want them to suffer any more than necessary.
‘I suppose we can spare the details.’ Jamie sounded more resigned than understanding, maybe at the idea of putting another barrier between himself and our parents, or, more likely, at having to do my bidding.
We fell silent for a while, lost in our own thoughts. Jamie went to fetch coffees and when he brought them back, I sat up, needing to get one last burning question off my chest.
‘What do you think she’ll do now?’
Jamie handed me a coffee and sat down. ‘I can’t imagine her staying around,’ he said. ‘I reckon she’ll move on.’
I stared at the sludge-brown liquid in my cardboard cup. ‘I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life, knowing she’s out there somewhere, hating me.’
Jamie sat forward, his face stripped back to one I remembered from before, when he’d been the brother who loved me. ‘Firstly, I don’t think she’d dare try anything,’ he said. ‘She’d be the number-one suspect after this, and if letting you drown was her goal, she’s failed. She’ll never get that opportunity again.’
I heard it then; the protective impulse that had propelled him into the sea without a second thought, and while I hated Rosa for pointing the finger of suspicion in his direction, I hated myself more for believing it.
‘How come you were in the lifeboat?’
‘I wasn’t,’ he said. ‘I called the coastguard, told them someone was in trouble and to send a boat out.’
‘You saw me?’
He nodded his face contorting, as if seeing it again in his mind. ‘I ran down and swam out, got there more or less at the same time as the lifeboat.’
‘They should recruit you,’ I said, tears hot in my eyes.
‘Not much call for it in Oxford.’
We turned as the smiling nurse who’d been monitoring my ‘vitals’ came in. ‘Visitors,’ she announced.
I’d have spilled my coffee if Jamie hadn’t grabbed the cup, but before I could get off the bed, Hayley had thrown herself on it, pressing her face to mine and squashing kisses all over my face.
‘Mummy, we got on the aeroplane and Daddy said he wished it would go faster and then we came in a taxi car and Daddy kept telling the driver to go more quickly, but you’re here waiting, so it doesn’t matter.’ She placed her palms on my cheeks and said in a solemn voice, ‘Did you fall in the water, Mummy?’
I nodded, laughing and crying at the same time as I hugged her, rocking back and forth, trying not to let my tears spill over. ‘I did fall in the water, but I’m OK and I’m so glad you’re here.’
‘Mummy, you have to learn to swim.’ She stroked the crinkly blanket partly covering my shoulders. ‘Daddy can teach you, can’t you, Daddy?’
She looked round for confirmation, to where Matt was standing at the end of the bed. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair sticking out at odd angles, and he looked like he’d slept in his clothes. His jaw was set, his mouth a tight line, and when he spoke, I understood he was holding back tears.
‘Matt, I’m so sorry,’ I began, words piling up in my chest. ‘I should never have—’
‘Don’t.’ He shook his head once. ‘It doesn’t matter now.’ He smiled at Hayley. ‘Maybe we’ll get Mummy some proper lessons,’ he said, voice gruff with suppressed emotion. ‘How does that sound?’
As his eyes met mine, I thought of the sky over Perran Cove, and knew it was the two of them – my twin bright lights – who’d saved my life, just as much as Jamie had.
I held out my hand to him. ‘It sounds perfect.’
Chapter 34
Three months later
‘All of them have sold.’ Tabitha beamed as though it was her own collection. Then again, the gallery would get a healthy commission from my paintings. No wonder she looked like a Cheshire cat.
I peered at the stickers next to each, realising I’d be glad to see the back of them. ‘Who knew seascapes were so popular?’
‘When they’re this good, they are.’
The exhibition had been a success, an event I’d remember for all the right reasons, unlike my birthday party.
‘I’m sure we can sell the ones you didn’t exhibit, unless you want to do it privately,’ Tabitha said, when I’d signed the paperwork, and we’d finalised details for packing and delivery of the paintings.
‘No, that would be great.’
‘Do you have some news to share?’ She glanced at my midriff.
My face warmed. I placed a palm on my stomach. ‘How did you know? It’s barely eight weeks,’ I said. ‘I haven’t even told my parents.’
She smiled. ‘You have that look about you, like my daughter. She’s pregnant too.’
As I picked up my bag and walked away, I wondered whether it was obvious to everyone, still amazed at how much my life had changed in such a short space of time.
Rosa had gone by the time we arrived back in Oxford and Jamie returned to their flat. She’d packed a few things and left a note, saying she’d resigned from the police and was going abroad for a new start and not to contact her – as if she imagined Jamie would beg her to come back.
He’d looked into it, to be sure she’d really disappeared, and discovered she’d bought a one-way ticket to New Zealand. ‘Maybe she’s decided to reconnect with her mother’s family.’
Now, Jamie was gone too. He’d given up work, used his savings to buy a boat and was sailing single-handedly around the world. He was currently anchored off the coast of Singapore, according to his latest Facebook update. I doubted our relationship would ever recover properly. He couldn’t forgive me for thinking he’d been behind the texts, or that he’d wanted me dead, my apologies weak offerings he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, accept. It was my biggest regret.
He’d told our parents everything in the end. I couldn’t work out whether he’d done it because he couldn’t bear to have secrets from them, or to position himself as a hero in their minds, but either way, I couldn’t blame him. At the end of the day, he was a hero.
Since then, there’d been a shift in my relationship with my parents, once they’d got over their shock. They fretted about Jamie now, and I felt as though they blamed me. They never said so, but I read it in their reproachful looks whenever his name was mentioned, and despite trying hard to not feel responsible for their reactions, it wasn’t easy after so many years.
They were delighted Matt and I had reconciled,
that my wedding ring was back on my finger, and were still loving grandparents to Hayley, but although they were relieved my ordeal was over – an ordeal they’d known nothing about, devastated to discover the person behind it was the woman they’d hoped would one day be their daughter-in-law – I knew my scene in the garage with Jamie had stayed with them, nudging their priorities in a different direction.
When Hayley told them that Mummy had fallen in the sea and was going to learn to swim, Dad had said simply, ‘About time,’ and hadn’t mentioned it again.
I was sure they felt sorry for Vic, who’d slipped out of my life as quietly as he’d come into it, but maybe that was my guilty conscience.
He’d been at the cottage when I returned from the hospital to get my things, the bracelet from Matt and Hayley I’d left on the bedside table, while they waited outside with Jamie in his car.
‘I’m glad you’re OK,’ he’d said, making no attempt to touch me, looking tired and defeated, his suitcase at his feet. ‘She was the last person I would have suspected.’
‘Me too.’
A wave of something passed between us, an acknowledgement maybe, of what we’d shared, but it was as if there was a force field around him, keeping me out.
‘I’m so sorry, Vic. That I thought it was you.’
He looked at me squarely. ‘At some point, you thought it was everyone.’
It was true. Even Marianne, who’d called as soon as I was back, to talk about Katya. She didn’t say so, but I could tell she’d lost confidence in me, that she thought I’d handled the situation with Katya badly. She was probably right. Thankfully, Katya had seemed her usual self once she knew I was safe.
‘I know it was a bit crazy, coming after you like that, but I honestly didn’t know what else to do,’ she said, when I met with her at Fernley House. She confided that Rosa had given her the creeps. ‘She said you’d love that book about the artists, but you looked so scared when you saw it, I knew something wasn’t right. She had this weird vibe, like, angry, but not so anyone would notice.’
‘None of us noticed,’ I said, not wanting to tell her the whole story, but knowing I owed some sort of explanation. ‘She developed a bit of an obsession with me, but she’s gone now. I’m really grateful you were keeping an eye on me, Katya, but you frightened a lot of people, taking off like that.’
She’d promised not to do it again, seemed happier, more settled somehow. It turned out she had a boyfriend; someone new to occupy her mind.
I’d resigned from Fernley House, sensing Marianne’s new wary watchfulness, especially after I turned down her suggestion of counselling. Maybe I needed a release from feeling responsible for others’ well-being for a while. There’d been some interest from a London gallery after my exhibition was featured in the culture section on the local news. I was keen to start something new; spend more time at home.
Home. I stood for a moment outside the house, just as I had on my birthday. Then, I’d been dreading going inside, wondering which of my guests had wanted me dead. Now, there were only people who loved me behind the door, yet it no longer felt like home.
I looked at the ‘For Sale’ sign planted out the front. We’d decided to move away; put some distance between us and everything that had happened. A fresh start.
It would be good for all of us, especially Matt, who didn’t need reminding that, for a while, he’d left a space in our home that I’d filled with someone new, whose clothes had nudged mine in the wardrobe, his shoes in the hallway – gone now to the charity shop. Vic hadn’t wanted them back, but I’d insisted on returning the ruby pendant. I’d grown tearful when he asked after Hayley. I knew how much he would miss her. He was going to Canada, he said, to stay with his sister for a while, didn’t know when he’d be back.
It seemed everyone was leaving, starting anew.
‘Here she is,’ Pam said, as I came inside to the smell of cooking.
She was followed by Baxter and Bella, our newest addition – a golden Labrador named after my childhood pet. Hayley was close behind, eyes permanently shiny since her fifth birthday when Bella had joined us. She was only slightly more excited about having a baby brother or sister. I was just grateful she’d quickly adjusted to Vic’s absence and Matt’s return to our home.
‘Mummy, come on,’ she said, crouching to pet Bella’s ears. ‘Daddy’s made sausages for dinner – they’re better than your ones because they haven’t got black bits on.’
Smiling, I said, ‘I might not be able to cook, but at least I can nearly swim.’
My lessons were hit and miss. Sometimes, I thought I was making progress, other times, I struggled to get in the pool, clinging to the side as shivers racked my body. I had learnt how to tread water, though. I never wanted to almost-drown again.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Pam said, beckoning to Baxter. ‘We should be getting home.’
‘You’re welcome to stay.’ Matt came through in his apron and kissed me, his gaze tender. ‘The more people to appreciate my sausages the better.’
‘Oh, well, if you’re sure, I’d love to.’ She hadn’t talked about us moving, but I knew she was making the most of us still being next door, for now.
‘Emma’s on her way,’ Matt said, returning to the kitchen. ‘I’m expecting a lot of baby talk.’
Just as Matt had forgiven me, so had Emma. She was living back in London permanently, enjoying her job and looking forward to single motherhood; had talked about reconnecting with her adoptive parents.
As I headed into the kitchen after Matt, I paused to look in the living room, at the painting of Perran Cove above the fireplace. I’d lost my phone, but Matt still had the photo of the sunrise I’d sent him that morning. Not that I’d needed reminding; the view was etched in my brain, just like everything else about that day. I’d needed to get it out of my head and onto canvas and had hung the painting, not only to replace the picture Rosa had defaced, but also to remind me every day how lucky I was, and to make the most of the third chance I’d been given at life.
It was the last seascape I’d ever paint.
Epilogue
What a let-down. All that planning and you’re still alive. I thought the cold would get you, if nothing else did. I watched for a while, from the cliff-top. Bit risky, but there was no one around. I got bored in the end. I was sure you were already dead.
I didn’t know your brother had it in him. That was a shock. I really thought he was going to ask me to marry him. It shook me a bit, if I’m honest.
Good job I covered my tracks. I’ve had plenty of years of training.
No point dwelling. The thing is, I realised afterwards, when I’d talked my way out of it all – not sure PC Fellowes was convinced, but there’s not much he can do about it – I had FUN. A lot of fun, actually.
I won’t be back. I’ve made new plans.
Hearing how your brother saved your life made me think about Uncle Jack. How he could have done so much more for my mum. He was her big brother. He should have protected her, helped her. Instead, he went to New Zealand and left her to die.
I’ve applied to join the police force over there, in Auckland. That’s where he lives with his perfect wife, Sarah. I’ve dug up some dirt on dear old Uncle Jack. He’s not the pillar of the community everyone thinks he is, and far from the perfect husband. Yet he’s alive and my mum is dead. How is that fair?
I’m going to ruin his life.
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Acknowledgements
It takes a lot of people to publish a book, and I’m lucky to have worked with the wonderful team at HQ, in particular my brilliant editor Belinda Toor whose skilful guidance made my story so much better. Thanks to Helena Newton for her meticulous copy-edits (hopefully, that hyphen can stay!), to Helen Williams for the proofread, Anna Sikorska for the amazing cover and the m
arketing team for all their hard work.
Huge thanks to my readers, bloggers and reviewers, to my writing (and real-life) friends Amanda Brittany, and Sherri Turner for being brilliant cheerleaders.
Last but not least, love and thanks to my family and friends for their continued interest in my writing; to my children, Amy, Martin and Liam, and to my husband Tim for his patience, belief and many cups of tea, especially during the ‘frenzied’ stage. I couldn’t do it without you.
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