The Good Mother: Gripping psychological suspense, with a shocking twist that will leave you reeling

by Karen Osman

  Michael’s open, honest accounts and descriptive prose about life on the inside were so much more than she had expected. They had been writing for over half a year now and if his parole date did come in June or July, that was just five or six months away. She was glad she had managed to create some kind of connection with him and she had no doubt that letter writing, rather than email, made for a deeper, more personal relationship. While she had embraced the digital era – her tendency towards efficiency demanded it – she had secretly mourned the decreasing use of the more traditional pen and paper. Despite receiving an e-reader as a gift from Helen, she still preferred the solid comfort of a proper book and all her notes and lists were done by hand. She didn’t keep a diary any more – she had given that up years ago, telling herself she didn’t have the time or the luxury to write a diary. She suspected, though, that she just wanted to do a different type of writing – something that was more meaningful and had a result as opposed to the rather pointless chronicling of her own thoughts.

  Writing to Michael was the perfect way to do that and if she could impact someone’s life in the process, even better.

  Chapter 26

  Alison

  Alison was lying in bed in her dorm room when the call from The Professor came through. He rarely called her, preferring to communicate via SMS. Alison let it ring before reluctantly picking up her phone.

  ‘Hello,’ she whispered. Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears.

  ‘Alison, are you OK? I woke up this morning and have absolutely no recollection of getting home. Then I discovered you weren’t here and I panicked, wondering what I had done to scare you off!’ He laughed down the phone, as if he had entertained her with his drunkenness.

  ‘Oh God, Alison, tell me,’ when her silence became impossible to ignore. ‘What did I do? Did I get a bit handsey? I’m so sorry! You poor thing! What a nightmare having an octopus like me all over you. You’re just too irresistible, that’s the problem!’

  Alison stared at the phone in disbelief. Was he serious?

  ‘Listen, let me make it up to you. How about dinner tonight? And if you agree, I promise to be a complete gentleman.’

  Alison wavered. She had invaded his privacy. Had she overreacted? Was he just being ‘handsey’? Doubt flickered across her mind. She had been so tired and stressed. Perhaps, she hadn’t been thinking properly.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said to him.

  The Professor laughed. ‘Still playing hard to get, eh? OK, let me know when you’re ready.’

  As she hung up the phone, Alison’s head was pounding. The lack of sleep from the night before had compounded the pain in her neck. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, trying to relax. The arrival of a text message interrupted her thoughts:

  Dinner. Lumley Castle. I’ll pick you up at 7 pm. x

  Lumley Castle? He really was trying to make an effort. Putting her phone down, she decided to make him sweat a little longer.

  *

  The dinner was lovely and The Professor had spared no expense. Gently lit, the restaurant had a romantic feel and the food was delicious. Two glasses of champagne were brought out as if they were celebrating. Gradually, over the three courses, The Professor had reduced the incident to nothing more than a drunken fumble and Alison felt silly for making such a mountain out of a molehill. He listened to her intently as she conveyed her worries of being too young for him and not as experienced as his previous girlfriends. She confessed her doubts and he, in turn, reassured her that he only had eyes for her. As they walked home after the meal, he took her hand and kissed it.

  ‘Don’t worry about anything, Alison. I will take care of you. The only thing you have to focus on is your studies. Can you do that for me?’

  As he leaned in to kiss her, she felt relieved they had managed to sort out their argument. She shouldn’t have been so suspicious and he shouldn’t have got so drunk. She certainly wouldn’t go prying again. She had been stupid to question his loyalty. Walking back to her own room as she had an early lecture the next day, she vowed to do better. With her heart and stomach full, she finally slept.

  *

  It happened so gradually, she didn’t even notice. But another three weeks went by, and Alison suddenly realised the only people she had seen were her classmates, The Professor, and the barista at her favourite coffee shop. She hadn’t even seen Laura. But somehow, The Professor always managed to convince her to be with him. Not that she needed much persuading. She wanted to be with him all the time but she was also aware on some level that it perhaps wasn’t the healthiest for either of them.

  She was also feeling guilty. She hadn’t apologised to Laura yet for missing her birthday and Laura hadn’t knocked on her door to ask where she had been. Was Laura slowly giving up on her? Alison vowed to make it up to her. She would take her out for lunch, she decided. But for the most part, Alison stopped making arrangements with people because she couldn’t bear to have to keep cancelling.

  *

  Laura was unusually quiet when they finally saw each other again. Alison had eventually decided on Laura’s favourite café in town, a traditional, rustic place that charged a fortune for home-made baked treats. Alison didn’t see what all the fuss was about, but she wanted the lunch to go well. She had even called them in advance to book Laura’s favourite table – a hard-to-get-unless-you-were-super-lucky intimate corner by the window.

  Each of them had a double free period so there was plenty of time to talk and eat. While Alison was worried she was sacrificing precious study time, she was determined to try to make amends and repair the friendship. She knew she was in the wrong and if there was one thing her parents had taught her, it was that the sooner you owned up and apologised, the better you would feel. And she had been feeling bad. She missed Laura. Her bright optimism and energy were infectious and Alison always felt good around her. She missed the comforting reassurance of having a good friend along the hall to whom she could turn at any time. She missed the music coming from her room, the messy spread of make-up across the sink, her clamorous requests that Alison do her hair, because she was ‘really good at it’. One of the reasons she had decided to live in college was that she wanted the camaraderie of living with people her own age: the jokes, the late nights, the gossip. And here she was sacrificing it all.

  After they had ordered – Laura a beetroot and feta salad and Alison a bowl of soup, the cheapest thing on the menu – Alison handed over her gift. She had chosen a bright, colourful scarf that Laura mentioned she had liked once when they were window-shopping. It was from one of Durham’s upscale boutiques and it had cost Alison a week’s worth of groceries. Laura opened it and smiled her thanks. Alison started to get worried; she had never known her friend to be so quiet.

  ‘So, how you’ve been?’ Alison said brightly, trying to break the awkward silence.

  She sipped her coffee and waited for Laura’s answer. But in the long silence that followed, Alison realised this wasn’t going to be a friendly catch-up.

  Without any preamble, and looking her directly in the eye, Laura didn’t waste words.

  ‘Alison,’ she said firmly. ‘Where have you been? I’ve been really worried about you. You didn’t turn up for my birthday, you don’t return my calls or my texts, and you haven’t been in halls for weeks.’

  Surprised at the extent that Laura seemed to be so concerned about her whereabouts, Alison considered lying, saying she had had to go home for a family emergency. It sounded better than the reality, which was that she had basically dumped her for a man. But Alison, so uncomfortable with the lies she had told already, couldn’t seem to summon up deceit of that degree now. Little did she know how good she would become at lying.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Laura, I’ve just been so busy with studyi—’

  Laura cut her off before she even finished the sentence.

  ‘Oh, come on – don’t give me that crap.’

  Shocked at Laura’s aggressive tone, Alison’s cheeks
burnt as she realised her friend wasn’t buying any more half-truth excuses.

  ‘Well, that’s p-p-part of it,’ Alison stammered.

  ‘Look,’ Laura said forcefully. ‘I’m not sure whether to tell you this or not but there’s a rumour going around that you’re seeing one of the law faculty members.’

  Alison recoiled, feeling the flood of horror that she was being talked about.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What do I mean? I mean just that – it’s all over the college. Is it true?’

  Alison’s silence told her everything.

  ‘Wow,’ said Laura.

  Alison wondered if she detected a sliver of admiration in her tone.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she continued. ‘You didn’t need to lie. I would have understood. Why did you make up all that rubbish about seeing a student from another college?’

  ‘I know – I’m sorry. It just all happened so quickly and I…’ Alison trailed off. Why hadn’t she said anything? Because she was ashamed. Ashamed of being such a cliché, ashamed of the need to hide it.

  ‘Look’, said Laura again, ‘apart from the fact that you’ve just bullshitted me – and I don’t bullshit easily – just be careful, OK?’ Her tone become more confidential. ‘According to the rumour mill, this isn’t the first time he’s been into a student.’

  Alison looked up in surprise. ‘What have you heard?’

  ‘Oh, Alison.’ And Alison definitely didn’t hear admiration then – she heard pity and it made her angry. Why would she say such a thing?

  ‘It’s not true. You’re just jealous. You don’t know him like I do,’ she retorted crossly. Although a flicker of doubt crossed her mind as she remembered the pretty, flirty, graduate student in his office. ‘I know he’s had previous girlfriends – of course he has. But another student? He would have told me.’

  ‘Would he?’ questioned Laura, ignoring her irrational accusation, raising Alison’s doubts even further.

  ‘Of course, he would!’

  Heart pounding, Alison started to gather her things.

  ‘Alison, come on, don’t leave. I’m sorry, I don’t want to upset you but I don’t want you to get hurt either.’

  ‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it,’ Alison replied, trying to smile and act like everything was normal. ‘I have to get to my next lecture anyway.’ She felt the tension in her shoulders increase. She shouldn’t be surprised that people had found out about her and The Professor. It was going to happen sooner or later, and at least she had heard it from a friend. Maybe it was a good thing. No more secrets. Sighing, Alison remembered why she had arranged the lunch. She didn’t have many friends and she knew she needed to work on keeping the ones she had. Alison stopped packing up her things and looked at Laura.

  Sitting back down, she said, ‘I’m really sorry about everything. I know I’ve been a crap friend lately.’

  Laura sighed. ‘It’s OK, I understand. I just miss you, that’s all, and I worry about you as well.’

  ‘I know,’ replied Alison gratefully, ‘but there really is no need.’ Unexpectedly, she felt tears start to form. Reaching out to Laura, she hugged her, trying discreetly to wipe her tears at the same time. ‘I miss you too,’ she mumbled, trying to compose herself. What was wrong with her? It must be coming up to that time of the month.

  Laura smiled and hugged her back, and a part of Alison was relieved that her friend knew and she didn’t have to keep any more secrets from her.

  ‘Hey, hey, no need for tears. I’m sorry – I really didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘You didn’t,’ responded Alison. ‘I’m just relieved we’ve sorted it out.’

  ‘Me, too! Let’s catch up next week for a coffee, OK?’ enthused Laura, trying to get back on safer territory. ‘Oh, and on Thursday night, we’re all going to Newcastle again – are you up for it?’

  ‘Of course! What’s the theme this time?’

  ‘We’re going to the school disco so it’s schoolgirl costumes!’ Laura practically squealed.

  Alison knew that if she wanted to keep Laura as her friend, there was no way she could miss this night out.

  As Alison was leaving, Laura leant over and grabbed her in another hug.

  ‘Promise we’ll see each other soon?’

  ‘Absolutely – and, Laura, I’m sorry again about your birthday.’

  ‘That’s OK. We were all plastered by the end of the night anyway,’ she grinned.

  *

  Satisfied that she and Laura were back on a firmer footing, Alison felt her worry dissipate only to be immediately replaced by doubts about The Professor. What had Laura meant by ‘This isn’t the first time he’s been into a student’? Was she just one of many? Pushing the thought aside, Alison told herself that they were just stupid rumours and Laura was probably just jealous, although she wasn’t really the jealous type. The Professor was youngish and good-looking – of course, there would always be tales and whispers among students. Heading to the library, Alison mentally added it to her list of things to talk to him about tonight. They would have a good laugh about it, she decided. She would also have to let him know that she wouldn’t be coming round on Thursday evening.

  *

  That night, as Alison was cooking some pasta and The Professor was finishing marking some papers, she tried to think how she could bring up the conversation she had had with Laura earlier that day in a jokey way.

  ‘I met Laura today for lunch,’ she started. ‘It was nice. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I took her to her favourite café – you know, the really expensive one.’

  Barely glancing up, he murmured an acknowledgement before going back to his papers.

  ‘It seems like there’s a few rumours going around about us,’ she said, aiming for a light-hearted tone.

  The Professor looked up. ‘What rumours?’ he asked, his full attention now on her.

  ‘Well, the fact that we’re seeing each other. In fact, she even warned me off you, saying that it wasn’t the first time you had been into a student. Of course, I didn’t believe any of it.’ Alison laughed, trying to show that she had brushed it all off and was just making conversation.

  The Professor, on the other hand, didn’t say a word.

  Alison nervously continued. ‘She’s wrong, isn’t she? About you being into other students?’

  The Professor’s eyes narrowed and Alison wondered what he was thinking. His face looked almost contorted as if he were trying to suppress some emotion. She noticed his fist tighten around his pen. It would have been imperceptible to anyone else, but she noticed everything about him. The way his knee tapped when he was concentrating, the angle of his head when he was reading a recipe while trying to cook at the same time, the small scar on the side of his right hand, where he had caught it with a penknife when he was younger. And the tightness of his face when he was angry. The image of him pinning her down, her arms unable to move, burst across her brain, and for a moment, she struggled to breathe.

  But then he smiled. ‘Of course, they’re just daft rumours! What a load of rubbish! Honestly, this city sometimes – you students have far too much time on your hands!’

  Alison laughed just a little too loudly. ‘That’s exactly what I told her! OK,’ she said, quickly changing the subject. ‘Dinner’s ready – do you want wine?’

  She felt relief flood through her but as she ladled out the pasta she was surprised to find her hands were shaking.

  *

  Alison was running – running hard. Her lungs burnt with the effort but still she ran on, impervious to the fact that she had no idea where she was going, and there were no streetlamps to guide her. All she knew was that she had to get away. For one split second, she faltered – the enormity of it all taking her breath away and making her wonder how she would survive. Maybe she wouldn’t. But for now, she is being hunted and she knows she must somehow escape.

  Alison woke from the dream covered in a film of sweat. She blinked as it
slowly dawned on her that she was actually in her room and not down a dark alley. She turned on her bedside light and looked at the clock. It was just after 4 a.m. The dream had been so vivid, and while the fragments gradually fell away like shattered glass, a feeling of unease stayed with her. She threw back the covers to get some water and looked around her room, reassured by the sight of her own things, and was surprised by how much she had missed the familiar comfort of her own place.

  She tried to recall the events of the previous day to see what could have triggered such a nightmare. Her thoughts turned to earlier that morning. It had been an innocent enough request. Over breakfast, she had mentioned to The Professor that she would be staying in halls for a couple of nights as she wanted to collect some more things, and as she was waking up at odd times during the night to study she didn’t want to disturb him. At the time, he had simply nodded at her, lost in his papers. It was only after she had left his house that she breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t want to admit it to herself but she had been nervous about telling him she would be staying in her college room for a few nights and had deliberately chosen to mention it when she knew he would be preoccupied with his work. But on some level, she knew they each needed a bit of space. Subconsciously, Alison was becoming hyperaware of her actions and words around him.

  That evening, after having a good gossip with Laura in her room, she climbed into bed with a hot chocolate and a good book. Her mum had sent her a parcel with a few of her favourite foods and supplies, and Alison was using the letter as a bookmark. As she reread the letter, she smiled at the relevance of her mother’s words.

  I hope you’re still enjoying living in college – you know you’re welcome to move back home any time. I will even do some of your washing! But I know you want to have the full ‘uni’ experience and I think it’s wonderful that you’re being so independent.

  Slipping the letter back into the book, Alison decided to switch off her light. Enjoying her own company and happy to be in her own bed, Alison was just drifting off, when her phone beeped.