The Girl You Gave Away: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller Page 13

  ‘Yeah, butt out! You cuss all the time when you’re out, I’ve heard you. Fuck this, fuck that, and you say the C word.’

  ‘Chloe! Enough!’

  ‘Well it’s not fair. You think he’s perfect, but he’s worse than me, that’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘I’m eighteen, I can say what I like.’

  ‘Not at the table you can’t,’ said Tom. ‘I hear enough swearing at school without having to put up with it at home. If you can’t behave decently, I suggest you take your food elsewhere.’

  They pushed back their chairs simultaneously.

  ‘No – don’t do that,’ I said. ‘Everybody calm down, please! I’m sorry. It was my fault, I started it. I’m just feeling a bit stressed, that’s all. Let’s forget the conversation ever happened.’

  We finished our meal in silence, the atmosphere ruined. Afterwards, I took refuge in the clearing-up, my thoughts skittering between the various events of the day. I couldn’t get Jade out of my head, wondering if she’d opened my email yet, hoping I’d got the tone right and hadn’t upset her on her birthday.

  Closer to home, I was concerned about Chloe’s behaviour, sure that she hadn’t been studying at her friend’s. Even Tom’s news about the geography field trip had unsettled me. Did he really have to go, or did he just want an excuse to get away? Maybe he wasn’t going on the trip at all; maybe he was seeing someone.

  That last thought pulled me up short. Not once in all our years together had I ever suspected Tom of infidelity. The terrible experience of seeing his father cheat on his mother had made him the most loyal husband imaginable. But recently, he’d been distant from me, less affectionate than usual. And there’d been all those long bike rides. I snapped the thought in two and threw it aside. He’d been on field trips before, and it was true that his colleague’s wife was ill. I was the one with secrets, not him. I was the liar, the fake, the fraud …

  We spent the rest of the evening on our respective sofas, mindlessly watching television. Tom poured himself another glass of red wine and drank it very slowly, savouring every mouthful. I did a puzzle on my phone. The space between us was emotional as well as physical. Lies and secrets hung in their air like motes of dust, and for the first time in our relationship I wondered whether they all belonged to me. I sensed something was wrong then, but I decided not to pursue it. Life was complicated enough.

  * * *

  I went into work the next morning feeling a little better now that April Fool’s Day was over for another year. Unfortunately, my relief was short-lived.

  ‘Erin? Mind if I have a word?’ Hilary stood in the doorway of my office with a pained expression on her face.

  ‘Of course, come in.’ I swivelled my chair around as she came in and closed the door carefully behind her. I tried my best to sound professional. ‘What’s up? Don’t tell me there’s been more Sugargate stuff on Twitter. More withdrawals? A petition?’

  ‘No, no, nothing like that,’ she replied, sitting down in the visitor’s chair.

  ‘Spit it out, Hils, you’re making me nervous.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve a horrible feeling we’ve been the victim of bank fraud.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Somebody pretending to be you withdrew ten thousand pounds in cash from the emergency fund over a period of a few days. I’m really sorry, I should have spotted it earlier, only I don’t look at that account very often.’ She blushed. ‘I’m absolutely furious with the bank; they obviously didn’t do the proper identity checks—’

  ‘It was me,’ I say, cutting her off. ‘It’s my fault, I should have told you. I was going to mention it but it slipped my mind.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her eyebrows rose. ‘Um … I don’t understand … Was this for some nursery expenditure? I know it’s your company, but normally we discuss these things. The accountant will want to know the purpose of—’

  ‘It’s a personal loan, that’s all. I overspent on my credit card, got myself into a bit of debt and didn’t want Tom to find out.’ The lies tumbled out easily. ‘Obviously I’ll pay it back. It’s just that the interest rates are crippling and it seemed stupid when the money’s sitting there doing nothing.’

  ‘It’s for emergencies,’ she said, a little coldly, I thought. ‘Leaks, blocked drains, security, equipment damage. We might need it to bolster our maintenance costs. Numbers are down, as you know. Another parent gave notice last week; they said it was nothing to do with this wretched Sugargate, as you call it, but the publicity has been damaging.’

  I felt myself stiffen with irritation. I had enough to worry about without Hilary making me feel bad. ‘Yeah, I’m fully aware of the situation, thanks. Like I said, it’s a loan; I’m going to pay it back. If there’s an emergency in the meantime, just let me know, okay? I’ll sort it.’

  ‘Fine,’ she said curtly, but it obviously wasn’t fine at all. As general manager, Hilary was in charge of the finances and I’d undermined her by taking out the money without letting her know. I meant what I’d said about paying it back; I just didn’t know how I was going to manage it without my husband finding out.

  The weekend came around. On Friday, Tom left for work loaded up with a sleeping bag, waterproofs and walking boots. He certainly looked the part. The minibus wouldn’t return to school until Sunday afternoon, which meant I had two full days without him. Two days in which to stew about my present woes and fight off the demons of the past.

  On Saturday, Oli decided he deserved a break from revision and went out with his mates to Brighton. Chloe got up late, refused breakfast, and put on some rather tarty clothes and even more make-up than usual. I think she did it deliberately, to see if I would challenge her. I hated the ghastly false eyelashes she was wearing, but I kept my mouth shut and let her leave the house uncriticised. She told me she was meeting up with Miranda and would be staying the night there. I wished her a good time, reminding myself to call Miranda’s mother later to check.

  It was strange being alone all day in the house. I missed the comings and goings, clashing music from the kids’ bedrooms, Tom tinkering with his bike in the hallway. But instead of relishing the time to myself, I felt lonely and abandoned, as if this was a preview of how life might be if the family turned against me.

  I tried calling Holly, and then Asha, but they were both busy. I spent Saturday evening on my own in front of the television but not really watching anything properly. Everything was quiet. I’d rung Miranda’s mother and she’d assured me that Chloe was staying at their house, and Oli had texted to say he was on the last train home. I went upstairs and had a long soak in the bath, then got into my pyjamas and tried to read the novel that had been sitting on my bedside table for weeks.

  Downstairs, I heard the front door opening and Oli kicking off his shoes in the hall. It would be some comfort to have my grown-up son in the house, but I still missed Tom. The space on his side of the bed seemed vast and the sheets felt cold all night.

  He came home mid-afternoon the next day, looking rather grubby and windswept from tramping around the marshes. I threw my arms around him and kissed him on the lips. He seemed surprised by my enthusiastic welcome.

  ‘How did it go?’ I asked.

  ‘None of the kids were really interested,’ he said. ‘All they wanted to do was sneak booze in and get off with each other. Some of the girls refused to use the composting toilet. I don’t know, these city kids …’ He pulled away. ‘Sorry, I’m desperate for a shower.’

  By then Chloe had turned up too and was lounging on the sofa with her phone. Oli was upstairs, studying as usual. Dinner was in the oven, and the house smelt deliciously of chicken and roast potatoes. A quiet normality had returned, or so I thought.

  Tom came downstairs, newly dressed and freshly shaved. ‘By the way, have you noticed that young woman standing on the pavement opposite?’ he said. ‘She’s just staring at the house. Gave me a really hard look when I turned up earlier.’

  ‘What young woman?’ My
stomach took a sudden dip.

  ‘I saw her too.’ Chloe looked up. ‘She was sitting on the neighbours’ wall. But that was ages ago. Is she still there?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tom. ‘I wonder what she wants.’

  Chloe slid off the couch and went to the window. ‘Yeah, she’s still there. She doesn’t look like a homeless person or anything.’

  My heart was beating so fast I could hardly breathe. What if it was Jade? I’d said in my email that I’d always be there for her, but I hadn’t meant she could turn up on the doorstep. This was a disaster …

  ‘Perhaps I should have a word with her,’ said Tom.

  ‘No!’ I shouted. ‘No. Let me look.’ I ran into the front room and stood next to Chloe, peering through the slatted blinds.

  The figure was wearing dark tracksuit bottoms and a zip-up jacket, the hood up, hiding her hair. I tried to make out her features from across the street, but she was pacing back and forth, hands in pockets, head down. Was it Jade? It was hard to tell. My daughter was quite tall, but this woman appeared to be much shorter. Her movements were quick, almost birdlike. Suddenly she stopped pacing and turned directly to face the house. She threw off her hood and I saw her face clearly.

  My pulse rate started to slow and I felt the tide of panic receding. I allowed myself another glance, just to make sure. She looked roughly the same age but it definitely wasn’t Jade. Something about her was familiar, however. I had a feeling I’d seen her before, somewhere, sometime … The pale skin, the dark hair, the intensity of her stare. It was like looking at a ghost from my past, and I shivered slightly. But I couldn’t place her and shook the idea off.

  ‘She must be waiting for somebody. Nothing to do with us.’ I turned away from the window and went back to the kitchen.

  It was time to baste the chicken. The heat hit me full in the face as I opened the oven door and bent down to inspect it. The skin was browning beautifully and the potatoes were turning golden.

  ‘All coming along nicely,’ I said just as the doorbell rang.

  Part II

  Chapter Twenty

  Erin

  April 2020

  ‘I’ll get it!’ called Tom.

  I quickly shut the oven and followed him into the hallway. Tom opened the front door.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Can I help you?’ The young woman we’d spotted earlier was standing in the porch, shoulders hunched, arms folded, biting her bottom lip nervously.

  ‘I’ve come to see her,’ she replied, pointing at me. ‘Erin.’

  Close up, it was easy to see why she’d seemed so familiar – her hair was different and she was wearing a lot of make-up, but apart from that, she was a mirror image of my younger self.

  I froze, unable to speak. My mind was whirring, whirring … Tom turned to me as if to say, Do you know this person? but I couldn’t even nod or shake my head. And I didn’t know her, not at that precise moment, although somewhere deep within my consciousness the realisation was slowly dawning on me.

  ‘What’s it about?’ asked Tom. ‘Is it to do with the nursery? If so, I’m afraid it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Erin doesn’t work on Sundays – this is her home address.’

  ‘She’s … she’s my birth mum.’

  The bottom fell out of my stomach and I felt instantly sick.

  ‘Your birth mum?’ Tom echoed. ‘I’m really sorry, but you’ve got the wrong person.’ He gestured behind him. ‘This is Erin Whitesteed. I’m her husband, Tom.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ Her hands were shaking, her body swaying. She looked as if she was going to collapse on the threshold.

  ‘Um … are you okay?’ Tom reached out. ‘Erin! Can you help?’

  Still I couldn’t move. Nothing was computing; it made both perfect sense and no sense at all. The young woman before me looked like me. I hadn’t touched her and yet I knew how she would feel. She was part of me, my own flesh and blood. But how could this be? I’d already met my daughter, hadn’t I?

  ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she gasped, starting to hyperventilate. ‘Can’t help it …’

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s okay.’ Tom caught her as she listed to one side. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Jade,’ she mumbled. ‘Sorry … all dizzy …’

  By now, Chloe had come into the hallway. ‘What’s going on, Dad?’ she said.

  ‘This young woman needs to sit down.’ The two of them guided her into the sitting room and settled her on the sofa.

  ‘Take slow deep breaths,’ said Tom gently, his first-aid training coming to the fore. ‘In through the nose and out through the mouth.’

  ‘Is she having a heart attack or something?’ Chloe looked at her father in alarm. ‘Should we call an ambulance?’

  ‘No! Don’t … please. Just a … panic attack … I get them sometimes … when …’

  ‘Don’t try to talk, just concentrate on the breathing. You’ll be okay,’ Tom soothed.

  I’d managed to move into the doorway but was keeping my distance, gazing at the young woman curiously yet cautiously, as if observing a wild animal. It hadn’t surprised me to hear her name. This was the true Jade. My firstborn, my baby girl. She had my eyes, my thick dark hair, my pale Irish skin. I didn’t need to see proof – I knew it in my soul.

  ‘Erin? I could do with some help here. Can you get her a glass of water?’ Tom hadn’t yet picked up on my shocked reaction. He was still working on the assumption that our visitor had made a horrible mistake.

  But Chloe could tell something was wrong. ‘I’ll get it,’ she said, shooting me a puzzled look as she went through to the kitchen.

  Ollie had come downstairs now and was hovering behind me. ‘What’s happening, Mum?’ he whispered. ‘Who is she?’

  A loud, guttural cry suddenly heaved out of me, and I retched. ‘Sorry, sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’

  ‘Erin?’ Tom sent me an irritated glance. ‘What the hell?’

  Chloe came back holding the glass of water. ‘What is it, Mum?’

  ‘She’s right,’ I said, between sobs. ‘She is … my … daughter.’

  There was a fractional pause, like the moment before a bridge collapses, or a thunderbolt strikes, or somebody steps out in front of a car. That moment when everybody realises that their lives are about to change forever, and there’s nothing they can do about it. That instant realisation that there will be injury, death or, at the very least, broken hearts.

  ‘Mum?’ Chloe let the glass tip and water dribbled onto the carpet. Oli covered his face with his hands, while Tom just stared at me, his expression dark with confusion.

  ‘Erin – what are you saying? I don’t …’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ I cried. ‘This is awful, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean it to happen this way. I didn’t think you’d turn up.’

  ‘But you sent me an email,’ Jade said slowly.

  ‘Yes, but … but … I thought I was writing to somebody else.’

  She frowned. ‘How come? I’m Jade, I’m your daughter.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ I replied weakly. ‘I realise … I can see that.’

  I had no doubt she was telling the truth, but it instantly made everything else a lie. My brain started firing off dozens of terrifying new questions. If this was my real daughter, who was the woman who’d stolen ten thousand pounds from me? How had she known my secret? Why had I trusted her? I felt sick, realising I’d been the victim of some awful scam.

  Chloe finally found some words. ‘What? You mean she’s our sister?’ Oli came to her side and they put their arms around each other.

  Jade looked around, starting to comprehend. ‘You didn’t know, did you?’ she whispered. ‘None of you knew. Oh shit. You never told them. I’m a secret.’

  ‘Erin? Erin!’ Tom raised his voice. ‘I don’t understand. Explain!’

  ‘I’m sorry, really, really sorry,’ I said quietly, unable to look at him. ‘I wanted to tell you, but I was too scared.’

  ‘Scared?’ He sprang t
o his feet and started pacing the room. ‘This is crazy. I can’t believe I’m hearing this.’

  ‘It’s true.’

  ‘No. It can’t be. We have two kids, just two. Oli’s our firstborn, Chloe’s our only daughter.’

  ‘I know it’s hard to take in, but please, just listen to me. I know I should have—’

  ‘You’ve been lying to me all our life together!’ His eyes were blazing furiously; I’d never seen him so angry.

  ‘Dad, calm down, eh?’ said Oli. ‘Let Mum talk.’

  In the middle of the chaos, Jade was hugging herself, rocking back and forth. Her eyes were shut tight. She looked as if she was trying to block out all the sounds and sights and imagine she was somewhere else, far away.

  ‘Are you okay, Jade?’ I asked. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong, nobody’s angry with you. This is not your fault, it’s mine.’

  ‘Too right it is,’ shouted Tom, winding himself up again. ‘I told you, didn’t I? I told you the night before we got married; I warned you what would happen if I ever found out you’d lied to me. You should have confessed then, when you had the chance.’

  ‘I didn’t want to lose you. I wanted to tell you but I was frightened of how you’d react. I was pregnant with Oliver; I wanted us to be a family. I thought that if I told you, you’d call the wedding off.’

  ‘And I would have! Why didn’t you tell me from the start?’ he fumed. ‘When we first met.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You betrayed me, Erin!’

  ‘No! I was just scared …’

  ‘Does Holly know?’ I nodded. ‘Oh great, that’s just great. And Asha, I suppose, and Joe. And your parents, obviously. How many more of our friends? Hilary? Everyone at work? I expect the whole bloody town knows – how could you do this to me?’

  ‘Can we all just calm down, please, and stop shouting,’ interjected Oli. ‘She’s, er … looking a bit … I think she’s going to faint.’