‘Ah. And she told Mum, I take it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Jesus, she’s so holier-than-thou.’
‘Don’t be hard on Janine. She’s a good woman, and she’s been a faithful friend to your mother all these years.’
Ella rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, I guess. Plus, I suppose she has a lot of time on her hands now her husband’s dead.’
I think of Nate. His suicide really knocked the wind out of my sails. He was the kind of bloke I expected to live to a hundred. Always fit and healthy, sporty, loved his job. His death still doesn’t make sense to me. We were close once, before he got posted to Hong Kong. I wish we could have kept up the friendship.
‘Nate was a good friend too,’ I say. ‘They were a lovely couple, and we had some good times together.’
‘Yeah, whatever. So, moving on, what did Mum say?’
‘She had a go at me at first, but obviously the tables were turned when I showed her the email and she confessed to having an affair of her own.’
Ella’s eyes are gleaming again. ‘Leave her, Dad.’
‘Really? Not sure there’s much point now. Since Janine saw me with Amber, Amber’s gone silent. I’m not sure she wants to see me any more. She hasn’t responded to my voicemails or texts. I think it freaked her out.’
‘Sorry to hear that, but it doesn’t matter. There’ll be another Amber. Point is, you can’t stay with Mum a second longer. Leave her, be a free man. She won’t give a crap, I’m certain about that.’
Again, although I’m furious with you, I feel saddened by Ella’s attitude towards you. And anyhow, it’s not that simple. Life never is when you get to my age.
I change the subject by switching to Ella’s love life. ‘So, who’s this new man you’ve been seeing? You seem very happy.’
‘I am,’ Ella beams. ‘But I don’t want to say too much yet. All in good time, Dad.’
‘What, not even a name?’
She tells me.
‘Robin. OK. Got a photo?’
‘Not any good ones.’
I smile, wondering what our daughter is hiding; why she is being so secretive about this guy.
‘So when will I get to meet him?’ I ask.
Her eyes sparkle like stars. ‘All in good time, Dad. All in good time.’
Chapter Fifty-One
Miranda
Now
I cannot believe what I’m hearing. It just can’t be true. Surely, she saw wrong, surely it’s some ghastly mistake.
‘You’re wrong,’ I say, the receiver shaking in my hand.
‘No, I’m not wrong,’ Janine says. I can tell she’s angry, from the clipped tone to her voice. ‘I saw them together, and he’s admitted it to poor Chrissy.’
Poor Chrissy. How I’m sick of hearing those words. What about poor Miranda? It’s your bloody fault you’re in the state you are, Chrissy. You shouldn’t have been such a terrible mother, neglected your child, pushed your husband and your other children away. You deserved all that was coming to you; deserved to have your child taken from you, to be cheated on. But I deserve better. I’ve been loyal to Greg all these years. Loyal and patient. Watching, hoping from afar. Ever since that day. The day I did something I’m ashamed of –
but in doing so, only ever had the child’s best interests at heart.
Duncan and I have lived separate lives for years now, so it was never a question of choosing between him and Greg. I’ve been biding my time, still pretending to be your friend, just so I could stay close to Greg. Waiting for the day when your marriage would eventually fizzle out and he’d come running back to me. And with Duncan no longer in the picture, how easy would that have been? I didn’t tell you we’d separated because I couldn’t bear to have you feeling sorry for me. Didn’t want you thinking that, once again, I couldn’t hold onto a man.
How could Greg do this to me? How could he turn out to be such a cliché? I feel broken, my patience all these years wasted on a man who’s turned out to be as shallow and untrustworthy as Duncan.
‘Why are you telling me this?’ I say faintly. ‘Did Chrissy ask you to? Just to rub my face in it?’
At the beginning of our conversation, Janine told me about Freya being Dan’s fiancée, no doubt thinking I was going to be shocked. I wasn’t, though. Which surprised her. But I am shocked by her latest revelation.
‘No, Chrissy’s too nice for that. But I thought you needed to know; needed to wake up and recognize Greg’s not the knight-in-shining-armour you’ve made him out to be all these years. I want you to realize he’s a shit, like all men, when it comes down to it. I mean you – of all people – should know that, with the father you had.’
It’s a cruel thing to say, but she’s right. I should have known better based on my own dismal childhood.
‘I know you’ve been angling for them to break up all these years,’ Janine continues.
I can’t speak.
‘Tell me it’s not true.’
My silence speaks volumes.
‘Well, there’s no need now. I think that particular fate’s been well and truly sealed, although not by your hand.’
I feel weak, and it’s a good job I’m sitting down as I continue to hold the phone to my ear.
‘Yes, it seems so.’
‘It’s not that I want to hurt you, Miranda…’
Bullshit.
‘…I just want you to have the full picture. I think you have a right to know.’
‘Will you tell Chrissy we spoke about it?’
‘No, but maybe you can give her a call at some point, ask her how she’s doing? Allow her to tell you off her own back. I’m sure she’d appreciate that.’
I’d rather choke on my own vomit.
‘Yes, maybe.’
We say our goodbyes and I hang up.
I tolerated Janine before, but now I truly loathe her. What a load of tosh she thought I had a right to know. She’s always been so possessive of you, paranoid I was trying to steal you away from her. And now, with Greg’s affair, she’s like the cat who’s got the cream. Gloating in her self-righteousness, in my dismay.
Maybe this is me getting my comeuppance for what I did all those years ago. For the wicked thoughts I had, for the trouble I stirred, for the heartache I caused. Just to get closer to the man I loved.
Just to get back at you.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Christine
Now
I clutch your dress like a lifeline, raise it to my nostrils and inhale deeply, trying to make out your childish scent. But it’s long since faded. It’s yours all right, though. The stain where you spilled strawberry yoghurt that fateful morning is still there, although the sweet strawberry aroma has faded to nothing. I wonder, did you fade to nothing also?
When I realized it was your dress, a strange mixture of horror and elation shot through me. The realization that this might be confirmation that you are dead, but equally, that you might be alive, fills me with simultaneous hope and despair. I desperately want to know which it is, but perhaps that’s the sender’s intention. To torture me, toy with me, raise my hopes, only to confound them at the same time.
I need Janine. It’s 10 p.m. and she’s late – why is she late? She’s never late. I hope nothing bad’s happened. I feel afraid, unstable. Greg’s gone, Dan’s not speaking to me, I can’t get hold of Ella, and now this. Someone put this dress on my doorstep, very possibly the kidnapper, and I am all alone. Scared and vulnerable.
Although I’ve been miserable for years, at least I’ve always been in control, with my diet, my exercise, my regular therapy sessions. I’ve lived an ordered, regimented life since you were taken from me. But now all of that is unravelling fast because someone else is calling the shots, making me live in fear as to what further surprises await me.
I place your dress on the kitchen table, spread it out like a fan, run my hands over the fabric, and remember your chubby frame filling it. How sweet, how gorgeous you looked in it. And as I do, it feels li
ke a knife is being twisted inside my guts. You should have been my sole focus. I should have ended things with him as soon as I found out I was pregnant. If only, if only – the words pinball round my head until I feel dizzy and sick with remorse. If you knew what I did, how I neglected you for him, I’m certain you would hate me. And you’d have every reason to. I would hate my own mother if she’d done the same.
Locked in my guilt, I jump at the sound of my mobile phone ringing. I pick it up. It’s Janine. ‘Jani, where are you? You’re late.’
‘I know, and I’m sorry, but Sarah called. Boyfriend troubles. I couldn’t exactly tell her to get lost. What’s wrong? You don’t sound right.’
I love the way Janine always manages to read my thoughts, gauge my mood by the sound of my voice. Sometimes I think she gets me better than Greg.
‘I’m not all right, Jani. The kidnapper’s been in contact again.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I received a package tonight.’
‘A package?’
‘Yes. It was Heidi’s dress.’ I can’t stop the tears from flowing now.
‘Oh my God, are you sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure!’ I snap.
She’s quiet, and I realize I’ve offended her. Again. Some friend I am.
I quickly try and make amends. After all, if I lose Janine, I’ll have no one. She’s all I have left. Now that I know Miranda’s a fraud. Although, what right have I to call her that? Considering the lies I’ve told, the secret I’ve kept from her all these years. ‘Sorry, I really didn’t mean to snap. Yes, I’m sure. It still has the yoghurt stain I told you about.’
‘Jesus, does Greg know?’
‘No, you’re the first person I’ve told. It only came tonight. Someone left it on the doorstep.’
‘You need to call the police.’
‘Now? At this hour?’
‘So what? They’re the police, it’s their job. And you could be in danger. Call them now. I’m coming right over.’
I look at my watch. It’s gone 10.15. ‘Are you sure you still want to? It’s getting late.’
‘Don’t be silly. You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?’
‘Of course I would.’
‘Well then, there’s no more to be said on the matter. Now hang up, call the police and I’ll see you shortly.’
Ever grateful for Janine’s support, I hang up the phone, then pour myself a large brandy. I rarely touch the stuff, but I need something stronger than wine. My hand shakes as I put the glass to my lips, and it’s as if I am steadily going mad. After taking a big slug, I find DI Phillips’ card and call his number.
He picks up after several rings. ‘DI Phillips.’
‘Yes, it’s Christine Donovan, I’m sorry to bother you at this time.’
If he’s irritated by my late call, he doesn’t let on. Asks pleasantly, ‘Not at all, what can I do for you?’ Trained to pick up on these things, I’m sure he detects the panic in my voice. ‘Have you received another note?’
Plied with sufficient brandy, I tell him about the email sent to Greg and the package left on my doorstep tonight. It’s clear that Greg still hasn’t told him about the email.
‘And it’s definitely Heidi’s dress?’ he asks.
‘Yes.’
‘Christine, you should have contacted me sooner about the email.’
In truth, I thought Greg was doing that, and I wonder why he hasn’t. I don’t put the blame on him, though. Just say, ‘I know, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not a nice question to ask, but I need to ask it. Why do you think whoever sent the email called you a whore?’
I realize I can no longer hide the truth from him. ‘Because I had an affair.’
‘When?’
‘It started before Greg and I were married and continued after Heidi was born.’
‘And you were still seeing this man – I’m assuming it was a man – when she was taken?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you didn’t think to tell the investigating officers at the time?’ There’s a trace of irritation, almost disdain in his voice. Not unexpected.
‘No.’
‘Why not? It could have been relevant.’
‘For one, I was afraid of the scandal. And two, I couldn’t bear to hurt Greg. He’d just lost his daughter. To find out I was cheating on him might well have killed him. And as time went on, it became harder to tell him, even though it’s preyed on my mind every day since.’
‘And when did the affair end?’
‘The same day I lost Heidi.’
‘At your instigation?’
I don’t give him a direct answer, because there isn’t one. It’s more complicated than that. ‘I was on the phone to my lover when Heidi was taken. He said we needed to end things because it was too risky for us to continue and people might get hurt. I was upset. I walked away to get a better signal and, in the process, took my eye off Heidi.’
Silence. DI Phillips has probably gone from pitying me to loathing me.
Eventually, he asks, ‘Christine, did anyone ever see you with your lover?’
I tell him about Julia, not mentioning my lover’s name, but how I didn’t think it could be her who took you because we gave her what she wanted, and she continued to work at the firm.
‘I see,’ he says. ‘Well, we still need to find her and question her. Rule her out, if nothing else.’ A pause, then, ‘Is your husband there?’
I hesitate, then say quietly, ‘No, he moved out a few days ago.’
‘Because of your affair?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you told him who your lover was?’
‘No, and he can’t know.’
‘Why? Who was it, Christine? I need to know.’
I’ve told too many lies, kept too much from the police all these years, and I know that needs to stop if we’re ever going to find out what happened to you.
‘Please don’t tell Greg, he can’t ever know.’
‘Tell me, Christine.’
I take a deep breath and feel slightly nauseous as I say my lover’s name.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Ella
Now
I got home from my dinner with Dad around ten minutes ago. Since then, I’ve told you what he and I discussed. As ever, Robyn, you listened patiently.
‘So, you were right about him getting laid,’ you say. ‘Why’s he so glum, then? Shouldn’t the fact that he’s managed to hook some hot babe soften the blow of his wife’s affair?’
‘It should. But apparently, this Amber’s not responding to his messages. He thinks it’s over between them, that she freaked out after Janine saw them together.’
‘Who cares? There are plenty more Ambers out there. You need to tell him that.’
‘I did.’
‘And stop looking so blue yourself,’ you say. ‘The whole point is for your mum to suffer – to be alone – and now with your dad moving out, you’re finally getting what you wanted. Him having an affair must be a giant blow to her ego.’
‘Yeah, but I don’t want Dad getting hurt any more. He’s innocent in all this. I want him to be happy.’ I pause, then say what’s been playing on my mind. ‘To be honest, I’m surprised Mum told Freya about her affair. I mean, sure, the note must have freaked her out, but it can’t only have been that which forced her hand. She didn’t even know about the email at the time.’
You shrug your shoulders. ‘She’s obviously bagged herself a good shrink who managed to prise it out of her, although I think you’re underestimating the impact of our note. Plus, she probably didn’t feel so bad confessing to her own affair, having found out about your dad’s. Maybe she thought it put them on a level playing field. It doesn’t, of course.’
‘No, it doesn’t. Dad would never have strayed if she’d been a proper wife to him.’
There’s a brief pause, then you say, ‘And about your dad – he will be happy. Once he’s completely free of her. Stupid man should ha
ve left her long ago.’
‘Don’t call him stupid. He’s a good bloke, his heart’s just too big.’
‘He’s been weak.’
‘Don’t say that.’ I rarely get shirty with you, but I don’t like you being unkind about Dad. He doesn’t deserve that. Kindness doesn’t equal weakness. Kindness equals strength. My mother is the weak one. Weak and self-centred.
‘OK, I’m sorry,’ you say, edging closer and kissing me softly on the lips. You break away, then say gently, ‘I know it’s hard for you, seeing your dad suffer, but he had to find out sooner or later about your mum’s affair, and the email was the best way to provoke that.’
‘I know.’
‘She must really be bricking it now, after receiving her surprise package.’
You grin, and although I love you, sometimes you terrify me; I’m not sure I trust you entirely. After all, you lied to me when we first met. It took you two months before you told me the truth: that my mum had an affair with your dad; something your mum told you after he died. That you were devastated to learn how she’d suffered this, as well as the loss of a child, and how she never got over his betrayal, but kept up a brave face for your sake, something my mum would never have done. It made me hate Mum even more. As someone who had also lost a child, she, more than most, should have empathized with your mum. How could she have caused her more pain by shagging her husband?
You came to London seeking revenge against the woman who broke your mum’s heart and viewed seducing me as a stepping-stone to achieving that. It hadn’t been chance that you walked into the store that day. You deliberately sought me out, to see if I could be of use, but then the unexpected happened. You fell for me, as I fell for you, and now we are in this together. Although I know what we’re doing is wrong, plus I have a feeling you’re keeping something from me – that’s the beauty of it. And yeah, I know I must be a bit fucked up in the head to see it this way, but I can’t help it. There’s something irresistibly alluring about our scheme, the opposite of my grim, loveless upbringing. I no longer feel fragile, directionless, because you have brought meaning to my life, made me feel whole. You listen to me, take an interest in me, the way she never did, and so I must do what you say or risk losing you and being broken once more.
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