Remember Me: The gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist.

by Lynda Renham

  ‘She worked at the school though. Why don’t you ask them?’

  But the school was reluctant to give out information. I had only one option. I phoned a private investigator.

  It took a while but I eventually tracked them down. They had a three-bedroomed terrace house in a quiet street in Kensington.

  I’d sat in my car staring at the house for almost an hour, praying she would come out with Nathan. But she hadn’t. I’d thrown up at one point. What if she didn’t have Nathan? What if I had everything all wrong? My eyes had strayed to the ‘For Sale’ sign that wavered in the front garden of the house next door.

  I went back to the flat we were renting and told Tom about the house for sale in Kensington. He was distracted. The new firm had just given him a big case. He was excited and nervous. He’d leave the house search to me, he said. It would give me something to do.

  I drove back to the house the next day and met the estate agent. I had to force my eyes away from the house next door.

  ‘It’s a nice little property,’ Brian the estate agent said. ‘Good price. It’s in a popular area and will be snapped up in no time and …’

  ‘What are the neighbours like?’ I asked nonchalantly, looking out of the kitchen window.

  ‘A young couple that side,’ he said pointing to Clare’s garden. ‘They have a toddler but you won’t hear much through these walls and the other side …’

  My head spun and I held on to the back door.

  ‘Sorry, I missed what you said.’

  ‘A young couple that side …’

  ‘I didn’t hear about the other neighbours.’

  ‘You’re end of terrace so you’ve just got a little park that side.’

  I followed him upstairs, straining to hear Nathan.

  ‘Do you know how old the child is?’ I asked.

  He shook his head.

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ he said shrugging. ‘I’ve seen her with a stroller, but you shouldn’t get any noise through these walls. You got a place to sell?’

  ‘No we’re renting at the moment.’

  ‘Great. No chain for you then.’

  ‘I’ll come back with my husband,’ I said.

  *

  I checked out the nursery. They didn’t have any spaces until the following year. I said that was fine. I was happy with it. They showed me around. It was good enough for Nathan; at least for now.

  While the sale was going through I asked the private investigator to check out Kathryn and to look into Clare’s background. Tom was happy. He thought I was busying myself getting the new house ready. I couldn’t really give a fuck about the new house. I just wanted to be near my baby.

  *

  ‘The mother’s in a mental home,’ he stated bluntly.

  He pushed the folder across the table to me.

  I stared at it. I couldn’t touch it. Information about the woman who was claiming to be my child’s mother was encased inside.

  ‘A mental home,’ I repeated.

  ‘Yeah, schizophrenic, been there for years. The daughter never visits.’

  ‘Is Clare Ryan also insane?’ I asked softly, not wanting to hear his reply.

  ‘Say again?’

  ‘Is her daughter, Clare, also insane?’ I say loudly.

  ‘We’re all insane,’ he laughed.

  I stared stonily at him.

  ‘I … well, I’m no expert. I’m just a private investigator. She’s been under psychiatric care in the past. She’s on medication. It’s all in there.’ He nodded towards the folder.

  ‘Can’t you tell me?’ I asked.

  He pulled the folder back and opened it.

  ‘Her medical records state she was on anti-psychotics. She has a history of schizophrenia …’

  ‘But, she had a baby,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, she has a son, Benjamin, two years old. I’ve got a copy of the birth certificate here,’ he said, handing me the paper. ‘It seems the condition is well controlled on medication. Although it looks like she hasn’t been filling her prescriptions for some time. Her new doctor has her on anti-anxiety drugs.’

  ‘So, she’s been looking after a child without medication?’ I said, my heart thumping in my chest.

  ‘Yep, looks like it.’

  ‘How did you get that information?’

  He coughed.

  ‘Well … erm … we don’t divulge our sources I’m afraid.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said standing up and grabbing the folder.

  *

  The ticking of the clock on the wall was driving me crazy. The door to Dr Grant’s office opened and he beckoned me in. I looked at the folder on his desk and felt my breath catch in my throat.

  ‘We’ve done the DNA tests, Sharni.’

  I looked at him hopefully. The muscles in my chest tightened with tension.

  ‘They were conclusive.’

  I exhaled and relaxed in the chair.

  ‘Oh God.’

  ‘Ben is your child. I’m presuming you will contact the social services.’

  ‘Nathan,’ I corrected.

  I began to shake.

  ‘Let me get you some water,’ he said kindly.

  I took the glass with shaking hands.

  ‘This is the documentation that you need. It’s something that needs to be handled delicately, Sharni, you realise that?’

  I nodded.

  ‘You’ve got to contact the social services.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said taking the paperwork. ‘I will’.

  ‘Would you like to come back with Tom?’

  ‘I’ll tell Tom,’ I interrupted.

  ‘You must think of what’s best for the child.’

  I stared at him. How dare he? I’m the one who has thought about Nathan. Not one person believed me. Not even my husband. Tears rolled down my cheeks when I thought of my mother. I couldn’t even phone her to say Nathan had been found. Nathan was okay and I was going to get him back.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, tucking the envelope into my handbag.

  ‘If there is anything …’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ I repeated and walked to the door.

  I walked past the receptionist and into the cold outside. I lifted my face to the wind. He was my child. I hadn’t been wrong. My baby had been stolen from me and I was going to get him back. I didn’t need the social services to help me and I didn’t need Tom. They didn’t help me when I needed them most. I’ll be damned if I’ll let them do this.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Helen stumbled down the steps of the restaurant and giggled.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m pissed on cider,’ she laughed.

  ‘Plus those beers,’ laughed Julia.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ giggles Helen.

  ‘How many bottles are you taking to Clare’s?’ asked Julia.

  ‘Well, I’ll drink them even if she doesn’t.’

  Julia lurched down the steps behind her.

  ‘I don’t know why you bother with her. She’s totally nuts if you ask me. Have you got the school photos to show her?’

  ‘She’s alright and she is all by herself tonight,’ Helen hiccupped.

  ‘Maybe we’ll come with you then?’ said Julia.

  Helen shook her head.

  ‘No way, she’ll bloody kill me. It’s enough I’m going round there half pissed.’

  She kissed Julia on the cheek and hailed a cab.

  ‘Thanks for a great night.’

  Helen was worried about Clare. She’d been funny with her ever since the school photo session with Sharni. She’d ignored her calls and only responded to the drinks invitation when Julia had texted her. It concerned Helen that maybe she hadn’t come because she’d been there. She didn’t want to fall out with Clare but lately she had been behaving a bit oddly, especially about Sharni. It was a bit extreme all the things she had been saying. Everyone at school thought she was a bit odd. Helen burped and ignored the cab driver’s look of disgust.

  ‘You’re not going to throw u
p are you?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve not drunk that much,’ she lied.

  Hopefully she’d be able to get a cup of coffee at Clare’s and sober up a bit. Surely the teacher Christmas photos would cheer Clare up. Then again she thought, maybe not, especially as Sharni was the one who took them.

  ‘Here please,’ she said as they pulled up to Clare’s house.

  The lights were on and she sighed with relief.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Sharni pulls a letter from her handbag and places it on the kitchen table. It sits between them. She nods at it.

  ‘That states that I am Nathan’s birth mother. I took him to be tested when I was looking after him one day. It’s a DNA test. It proves without doubt that I am his real mother.’

  Clare stares at the sheet of paper.

  ‘It’s all lies,’ she says.

  ‘You know you took him. You deliberately flashed your lights at me on the bridge. You could have killed him too.’

  ‘You were driving too fast.’

  ‘Look at it,’ Sharni screams.

  Clare throws the letter angrily on to the floor. ‘You’re threatening me in my own home. You’re the one holding the scissors,’ she says boldly.

  Sharni picks up the paper from the floor and looks at Clare, her eyes menacing. She suddenly lunges at Clare grabbing her hair and pulling her head down forcing her to look at the paper. Clare’s eyes smart and she struggles to focus on the writing in front of her.

  ‘Read it,’ Sharni yells.

  The doorbell sounds but Sharni doesn’t hear it. She is too intent on pushing the letter into Clare’s face.

  ‘Read it,’ she repeats.

  Clare closes her eyes against the words. Sharni finally releases her and Clare looks up into her angry face.

  ‘What does it matter,’ Sharni says, folding the paper. ‘You know the truth.’

  Clare looks past her to the kitchen window and sees Helen watching them. She gives her a pleading look. Helen shakes her head, her eyes full of horror.

  ‘I’m going to take Nathan now, and then I’m going to call the police to tell them who took my baby and where they can find you,’ Sharni says.

  Clare watches in horror as Sharni gets up and walks out of the kitchen.

  ‘You can’t take him,’ she screams. ‘I won’t let you.’

  ‘Do something,’ screams a voice in Clare’s head. ‘Don’t let her take your child. Stop her, stop her now!’

  She hurries to the cutlery drawer and grabs the carving knife, cutting her hand on another as she does so. She can’t be without him. She’d kill her before she lets Sharni take him from her. She should be dead anyway, she should have died that night on the bridge.

  *

  ‘Christ, what’s going on?’ Helen mutters as she stares through the window. A wave of nausea overtakes her and she throws up the cider she had consumed earlier. When she looks back through the window Sharni has gone. She twists the handle of the back door and it swings open.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she shouts from the doorway. ‘What in God’s name is going on?’

  ‘Helen,’ Clare shouts. ‘You have to help me. She’s got a knife and she’s trying to take Ben from me. Please help us.’

  ‘Oh my God, I’ll call the police,’ Helen says fumbling around in her bag for her phone.

  ‘I’ve called the police. I need you to help me.’

  Sharni

  I’d underestimated her. I was so intent on getting my child back that I hadn’t planned things properly.

  Her eyes are wild and her features contorted as she leaps forward, swinging the carving knife in her hand. She swings it viciously from side to side and I feel a sharp pain as the blade strikes my hand. I manage to grab the scissors but not before she aims the knife at me again and I grimace as it catches me in the thigh.

  ‘You’re not having him, you fucking bitch. He’s my baby and I’ll do anything to keep him,’ she screams.

  My foot gives way beneath me and I fall against the kitchen door, the scissors dropping from my hand. I back away as she runs towards me with the knife. Her screams rip through the air and I shudder at the sound. I scramble back and squeeze through the gap to the hallway, kicking the door shut behind me. I look frantically around for something to block it, but there’s nothing.

  I need to get Nathan. He’s all that matters. I curse myself for being so stupid.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Helen shouts. ‘What in God’s name is going on?’

  ‘Helen,’ Clare yells hysterically. ‘You have to help me. She’s got a knife and she’s trying to take Ben from me. Please help us.’

  I trip on the stairs in my haste to get to Nathan. I’m almost there when her hand grips my calf and I’m pulled down, my elbows banging roughly on the stairs.

  ‘You should have died, bitch,’ she hisses into my ear.

  I look up at the glittering blade and watch as it comes down towards me. I turn and knee her in the stomach. She doubles over and I scramble up, taking the stairs on my hands and knees. The carpet is stained with my blood. I limp towards the bedroom, but she’s quicker than me.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she says calmly, standing in my way.

  She smiles.

  ‘You didn’t think I’d let you take him. When the police come I’ll tell them how you tried to steal my baby and how you tried to drive me mad. I’ve got proof you had the comfort blanket and my pills. A desperate mother, totally out of her mind, and after all, grief does terrible things doesn’t it? I’ll explain I had to defend myself and protect my child, otherwise who knows what might have happened.’

  I try to grab the bannister but she rips my hands away.

  ‘Goodbye Sharni.’

  *

  ‘Christ Clare, what are you doing?’ Helen’s terrified voice stills the air.

  ‘She’s trying to steal Ben,’ Clare cries. ‘She attacked me with a pair of scissors.’

  I grab the bannister to stop myself falling.

  Helen’s eyes are wide and her mouth open in surprise.

  ‘Why have you got a knife Clare?’ Helen asks.

  ‘I had to protect myself,’ Clare says angrily. ‘I couldn’t let her take Ben.’

  ‘You need to call the police, Helen,’ I say weakly. ‘I’m not stealing anyone’s baby.’

  ‘Shut up,’ snarls Clare, stamping her feet and waving the knife around. ‘Just shut up.’

  ‘But I thought you already called the police?’ Helen says, looking nervously up at Clare.

  ‘She hasn’t,’ I shout.

  ‘Don’t listen to her, she’s completely insane. She’s ripped Ben’s comfort blanket to shreds. It’s in the kitchen, go and have a look, and she slashed the phone line. Don’t listen to her Helen.’

  ‘I …’ begins Helen.

  ‘Look in the kitchen if you don’t believe me,’ Clare shouts.

  ‘Helen …’ I begin.

  ‘Shut up,’ growls Clare, brandishing the knife. ‘She’s here to steal my baby, Helen, and she’s been doing things to make me look mad just like I told you. I need you to get something for me to tie her up. There’s some tape in the drawer in the kitchen.’

  Helen shakes her head nervously.

  ‘I think we should wait for the police.’

  ‘She’s dangerous Helen,’ Clare shouts.

  Helen looks at me and then hurries to the kitchen.

  Clare turns to me and sneers, ‘It’s a shame she came. Makes things a bit more complicated.’

  ‘I don’t understand, what is this?’ Helen asks, holding the letter from Dr Grant.

  ‘Get out,’ I scream to Helen as Clare rushes down the stairs. ‘She is going to hurt you.’

  ‘Give that to me, you nosy bitch,’ snarls Clare, saliva running down her chin.

  Helen turns horrified eyes on to Clare charging towards her with the knife raised high. She gives a piercing howl. I want to block my ears and close my eyes but I can do neither. I watch as she brings the knife
down on to Helen. The knife stabs deep into Helen’s left shoulder, sending Helen crumpling to the floor.

  *

  My legs give way from the shock and I tumble down the stairs. I land heavily and groan. The hall light flickers above me. For a moment I’m disoriented and then I hear Helen’s moans. I’m lying on the floor at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the ceiling. An excruciating pain shoots through my leg. I look down to see it is bleeding profusely. I can’t move it without pain shooting through my body. I prop myself up against the wall to look at Clare. My body feels heavy. I try to work out if I could make a lunge for her, wrestle her to the ground. Am I strong enough to overpower her? Helen is gasping for breath and for a moment she looks up at me imploring me to help her. I need to get Clare’s attention away from her. Clare looks at me and I gasp at the hate written across her face. Her eyes are wild, her hair tangled and her hands are covered in blood. The knife hangs loosely at her side.

  ‘What have you done?’ I say.

  ‘It’s not fucking fair,’ cries Clare. ‘You’re all against me.’

  ‘Helen isn’t against you,’ I say, trying to calm her. ‘She’s on your side. She told me that.’

  Helen is slumped against the front door, a crimson pool of blood surrounding her. The wound in her shoulder is seeping blood at an alarming rate. I feel angry with myself. I’d handled it all wrong. I wanted Clare to feel what I had felt, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, but I had misjudged her. She is totally insane. I’d got Helen involved and I was afraid for her. She’ll die if her bleeding isn’t stopped soon.

  ‘Fucking whore,’ Clare roars. ‘If you had died on the bridge none of this would have happened. Why did you have to turn up? Why didn’t you die on the bridge? Now I have to kill you to make you go away.’

  She kneels beside me and presses the carving knife against my throat. Her stale breath suffocates me. From the corner of my eye I can see Helen struggling to stand. Her eyes meet mine. I watch mesmerised as she picks up the vase from the hall table.

  ‘You can have Ben,’ I say, in an attempt to stall Clare.

  ‘Do you think I believe you?’ she snaps. ‘You have lied to me from the first day I saw you.’

  ‘We can work something out, for Ben, he could still see you.’