The Girl You Gave Away: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller Read online

  Hi Hilary,

  * * *

  Thanks for your email. Yes, I know about the money Erin stole from the company – she told me herself, although she said it was only a few thousand. Once a liar, always a liar, eh?

  * * *

  She claims she was blackmailed by somebody pretending to be her long-lost daughter, but I’m not sure I believe anything she says any more.

  * * *

  Things here are very difficult. I’m trying to be strong for the kids, but not sure how much longer I can bear it.

  * * *

  Thanks for everything. Really appreciate your support. See you soon.

  * * *

  Tom xx

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jade

  April 2020

  Jade is very happy to be out of the hostel. She loves having her own place, although she hasn’t yet plucked up the courage to sleep in the only bedroom. It feels disrespectful, and to be honest, it smells bad – sweet and musty, like rotting fruit. Several weeks have passed since Amy and Mia went to Lanzarote, but the aroma hasn’t faded. It’s in the fabric of the room – the walls, carpet, mattress … Definitely the mattress. She can’t help thinking it’s the smell of death.

  One evening, while she is eating her takeaway from the chicken shop, Amy rings. It’s a conversation Jade has been trying to avoid, but she can’t keep putting it off or Amy might get suspicious. Wiping her greasy fingers on her jeans, she swipes to accept the call.

  ‘Hi,’ she says, chewing. Food is good for disguising emotions. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Okay,’ Amy replies. Her voice sounds echoey and far away. ‘I thought you wasn’t going to pick up. You haven’t called me for ages. Everything all right?’

  ‘Been busy, that’s all.’ Jade changes the subject. ‘What’s the weather like in Lanzarote?’

  ‘Warming up nicely, as Mum says.’

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘Fine, thanks.’ There’s the sound of flip-flops on polished tiles, then Amy whispers down the line, ‘Actually, not too good. She’s very weak, can’t walk anywhere. Just sits on the balcony all day dozing.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s heartbreaking, but it’s what she wanted. Her last days in the sun.’

  ‘Worth cashing in her life savings for?’ Jade says, poking gently, just to see what reaction she gets.

  ‘Oh God, yeah. She can’t take it with her and I don’t want it.’

  The girl has some nerve, Jade thinks; didn’t hesitate for a nanosecond before replying. It’s sad that their friendship has been reduced to a verbal game of chess, but also empowering for Jade, because Amy has no idea that they’re even playing.

  ‘So, how’s business back there? Found me any vintage gems?’

  ‘I’ve not been at work. Had the flu.’ Jade adds a cough to bolster the lie. ‘I’m going back tomorrow if I feel up to it.’

  ‘Oh no, poor you. Don’t go until you’re totally better or you’ll have a relapse.’

  ‘I’ll see … Don’t want to miss any good stuff.’

  ‘Oh yes, forgot why I rang!’ Amy changes gear. ‘This guy is going over to the flat tomorrow evening, around six. He wants to buy a load of stuff – I’ll send you photos of exactly what. Dresses, mostly. Can you give them to him?’

  ‘Yeah, no worries.’

  ‘Thanks, you’re a star. What would I do without you, eh?’

  Hmm, muses Jade, there are various answers to that question.

  She’s quite enjoying this chat. Before, she’s always lagged behind her friend; metaphorically (and often literally) still putting on her coat while Amy has already left the building and is halfway across the street. This secret knowledge reduces the imbalance in their relationship. It gives her power, makes her feel smarter than she is.

  ‘I wish you were here,’ Amy says. ‘We could go out, have a laugh. If only you weren’t so broke, you could come over.’

  I’m sure the ten thousand pounds you stole from my birth mum would cover my flight, Jade says in her head, but out loud she heaves a pretend sigh of longing. ‘Yeah, shame …’

  Amy lowers her voice again. ‘I don’t know when I’ll be back … it all depends. It won’t be long … could be any day now. It’s so horrible going through this on my own. I want us to come home for the last bit, but she won’t hear of it.’

  A few weeks ago, Jade would have said something suitably mushy and supportive, but the anger won’t let her even fake it. ‘Give your mum my love, please,’ she says instead. ‘Tell her I’m thinking of her all the time.’

  ‘Aww, that’s nice … Better go. Thanks for helping out. I owe you one.’

  ‘Yes, you bloody do,’ Jade says aloud as soon as the call ends.

  That night, she settles herself on the sofa and sets the alarm for seven a.m. It’s time she showed her face at the charity shop. Mike has been texting asking whether she’s given up. She told him the flu story too and that shut him up for a few days.

  After all the recent upset, she’s hardly been able to leave the flat, let alone go to work. But she feels a little better now. More in control since she’s spoken to Amy. She’s still mad as hell with her, but the big showdown will have to wait until her mother has passed. Jade doesn’t want Mia’s last days on earth spoilt by a row.

  * * *

  The next morning, Jade rises early. She stands under the dribbling shower, scrubbing at her freezing skin, preparing herself to face the world again. Or rather, the tiny world that is the charity shop. Clothes, knick-knacks, picture frames, books – so many books – puzzles, toys, bits of jewellery, scarves, hats and bags. Thousands of unwanted items. No wonder she feels at home there.

  Mike greets her arrival with a grunt. It’s hard to know whether he’s pleased to see her or not, but judging from the sign in the window pleading for volunteers, beggars can’t be choosers. It’s her or nobody, so he should be grateful, she thinks.

  ‘Can you go on the till this morning?’ he asks, not even waiting for her to take her jacket off.

  ‘I don’t do the till. I do sorting.’

  ‘I know, but I’m short-staffed today and I’ve got to go to the other shop for a meeting.’

  She sighs. ‘All right. But if it doesn’t balance at the end of the day, it’s not my fault, okay? Even if it is my fault, you can’t blame me.’

  ‘Whatever. Just try your best. And if anyone asks about volunteering, make sure you get their number.’ He downs his coffee and makes a quick exit.

  Jade has never been left on her own in charge of the shop before. It makes her feel nervous, but also a little proud. She thinks about calling her mother to tell her, and then, magically, Sarah phones, as if summoned by her thoughts. Jade hesitates, looking at the idiotically smiling photo on the screen and wondering whether she has the energy to speak to her right now. If she lets it ring but doesn’t answer, she’ll only try again. She swipes right to accept the call.

  ‘Hi,’ she says. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Hello, darling,’ Sarah trills. ‘Just wanted to see how you were doing. Have you moved into your birth mum’s place yet? You haven’t texted me the address.’

  Jade pauses while she tries to remember what she said last time. Oh yes. A room with nice wallpaper, kept just for her. The swimming pool. It’s all coming back to her now, the lies enough to make her blush, even though she’s on her own and nobody can see.

  ‘Yeah, I’m here,’ she replies.

  ‘And how’s it going? Are you settling in?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s cool. Everyone’s made me feel really welcome. I’ve had two swims in the pool already.’

  ‘Really? But it’s only April. Is it an indoor pool then?’

  ‘Er … yeah, that’s right. It’s heated and everything. And there’s a sauna,’ she adds, just for the hell of it.

  ‘Wow. Lucky you! Whereabouts is it? Berkshire? Hertfordshire? I don’t think you told me.’

  ‘Hertfordshire,’ Jade says, altho
ugh she has no idea. She rather hopes Erin doesn’t live in Hertfordshire in case Mummy starts googling.

  ‘Is she still Erin Coughlin, or does she use her married name?’

  Hmm, that’s definitely what she’s up to. Jade knows how good her mother is at tracking people down. Being a lawyer, she probably has access to all sorts of records that normal humans don’t.

  ‘Er, she uses her married name. Smith.’ That’ll fox her, she thinks. She hears a sigh of disappointment on the other end of the line.

  ‘Well, I just wanted to know how you were. Please do text me the address, darling. It’s important that we know where to find you, just in—’

  ‘Case of emergencies, yes, I know,’ Jade finishes irritably. Time for one last twist of the knife. ‘Is that it? Can I go now? Only I’m out shopping with Erin at the moment. She’s buying me a new dress because we’re all going out for dinner tonight.’

  ‘Oh … Yes, of course, sorry. How lovely. Where are you going?’

  ‘Not sure, but it’ll be somewhere really posh. Bye.’ She ends the call immediately, making sure she has the last word – something Sarah can never bear.

  The short conversation leads a sour, lingering taste in her mouth. Why is she so cruel to her mother? She’s cared for her since birth, fought for her rights, defended her, encouraged her, celebrated her minuscule achievements, willingly cleaned up mess after mess. Why would she rather have the love of the woman who gave her away in the first place, kept her existence a secret and clearly doesn’t want her as part of the family? What is it about this blood tie that she can’t let go?

  Trade is slack and Jade only sells a man’s shirt and some bookends all morning. It’s boring and her thoughts keep wandering into uncomfortable places, mostly occupied by her birth mum. She’s not going to reply to that pleading email Erin sent. She wonders how she’s feeling, and whether her husband has forgiven her for lying. And what about Oliver and Chloe? If only Amy hadn’t wrecked everything, they’d all be playing happy families by now. Instead, everyone’s hurt and upset and nothing has changed. Soon Amy will be back and that friendship will come to an end too. Jade will have to move out. Where will she go?

  Her head starts to spin with dark imaginings and she has to take deep breaths. A panic attack is coming; she’s got to try and stop it. The mammalian diving thing, that’s what she needs to do. She rushes out, fills the bathroom sink with cold water and is about to plunge her face in when she hears the shop bell ring.

  ‘Jade?’ Mike’s voice. Removing the plug, she goes back into the front of the shop, trying to calm her pounding heart.

  ‘Sorry. There weren’t … any customers, so I … was tidying up,’ she says breathlessly.

  He manages a grudging smile. ‘It’s okay, Jade, you did all right. Calm down, eh? You can go on your lunch now. I’ll take over.’

  She grabs her things and leaves without a word.

  The sun is beating down and there’s no wind. It’s warm enough to sit in the park today, but instead of buying her usual cheese salad sandwich, sausage roll and Coke, she walks straight past the supermarket and heads for the place she’s started to think of as home.

  There’s no way she can go back to the shop today – she’s feeling far too shaky. Mike will have to manage by himself. The panic attack never fully materialised, thank God, but she can still feel it lurking there, limbering up in the wings, preparing to hurl her onto the stage.

  Mia’s little flat might be shabby, but it’s a haven from the outside world. Jade makes herself a cup of tea and toasts some old bread, slathering on so much Marmite it sticks to the roof of her mouth. She switches on the television and watches a programme in which people – she’s not sure whether they are real or actors – argue in front of a judge, who then decides who’s right and who’s wrong. Today it’s a dispute about a loan a woman made to her sister, who’s now refusing to pay it back.

  Jade doesn’t care who wins – both women sound like right cows – but the show makes her think of Chloe. In the few minutes they had together, she felt a positive connection. They look like each other for a start. In the old photo she had – the one she stupidly ripped up – she couldn’t see the similarity, but now that Chloe’s a teenager, it’s obvious they both take after their birth mum. Although Chloe wouldn’t need to say ‘birth mum’, because Erin is the only mum she’s got.

  Jade feels a pang of jealousy. Contrary to popular belief, it’s not always better to have more than one of something.

  How is Chloe doing? she wonders. She reaches for her phone and scans Instagram. She’s been following her sister for a couple of weeks now. Mostly Chloe posts pics of herself wearing not many clothes, photos of cute kittens or angry statements about climate change. Today she’s dressed in a pair of minuscule denim shorts with fishnet tights underneath and an off-the-shoulder top, looking very moody. Jade reads the caption and screams out, stabbed with joy.

  Missing my big sis. Hi, Jade!! Please get in touch! Loadsa love xxx

  Big sis. That’s what she’s always wanted to be called. And now there it is, on social media for the whole world to see. She’s not a secret any more. She’s out there, loud and proud. It’s a dream come true, as people say on the telly, their eyes shining with tears.

  Chloe’s message is short but packed with meaning. Most importantly, love is mentioned. When Jade lived with her adoptive parents, they told her they loved her almost on a daily basis, so much so that she stopped hearing it, just as she no longer heard the traffic that constantly thundered past her bedroom window. Sarah and Stephen’s declarations never penetrated, but Chloe’s words have pierced her like a hypodermic needle. Her sister’s love is already coursing through her veins, giving her a high.

  Chloe has reached out and it would be rude not to respond. Jade wants to get to know her little sister. There’s stuff she needs to tell her. Deep, dark secrets. Revelations that will make Chloe’s carefully tonged hair stand on end.

  She composes a direct message, expressing joy and surprise and offering to meet up after school. Love you too, she taps out, adding kisses and a flurry of emojis – hearts, flowers, glasses of champagne, balloons, streamers and three kittens.

  That should do it, she thinks. She imagines the message pinging into Chloe’s inbox. She’ll accept it for sure, and immediately follow Jade back. She can’t say everything is going according to plan, because there’s never been one, but things seem to be happening nonetheless.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Erin

  April 2020

  It seemed I wasn’t the only one with secrets. My husband and my business manager were in cahoots, sharing information, plotting against me. As a shareholder, Tom had a right to know about the company’s finances – I accepted that – but it still felt like a betrayal, and a deeply personal one at that. I judged he would have told Hilary the whole shameful story by now, casting me as the villain, no doubt. It was so embarrassing. I was the company boss and yet I felt utterly powerless.

  I wanted to tackle the two of them but couldn’t do so without revealing I’d hacked into Hilary’s emails. He’d referred to me as a liar. Well, that made three of us.

  Yet the most chilling line in Tom’s message was the one about not knowing how long he could bear it. It was clear he no longer loved me and wanted to leave. How ironic. I’d kept the truth from him in the first place in order to safeguard our relationship, but I’d failed, and what I’d dreaded was coming true. I was about to lose everything.

  At work, I avoided Hilary, confining myself to my desk, or arranging meetings out of the building. When I got home in the evenings, I made it easy for Tom to ignore me, hiding in the bedroom or shutting myself in the kitchen. But the situation couldn’t go on indefinitely. In that respect, Tom was right.

  The atmosphere in the house was truly dreadful and I felt very sorry for the kids. Chloe seemed okay; it was Oli who was struggling. I hadn’t taken him seriously, assuring myself he’d just been lashing out, trying to punis
h me because I’d hurt him. Oli loved studying; he’d been talking about going to Cambridge for years. But exactly as I’d predicted, the family trauma had thrown him off course. If I confronted Tom over the conspiracy with Hilary, it would be the last straw, and he’d leave, which would have a terrible knock-on effect on Oli. I had to do everything in my power to get my son back on track.

  That was my reasoning, anyway. But I was looking in the wrong direction, focusing on the wrong child. It was as if I was watching a close-quarters magician, distracted by their patter and clever sleight of hand.

  With Oli’s needs in mind, I decided to leave Tom alone but talk to Hilary. There were other matters I needed to resolve. Rifling through her inbox hadn’t proved that she’d been in touch with Jade, but it hadn’t disproved it either. She could easily have deleted the messages, I reasoned. In fact, the absence of evidence made the subterfuge more likely. Hilary had already proved she was capable of going behind my back, and I was sure somebody had helped Jade – taken together, this made her the most obvious candidate.

  It was easy to bring the subject up. I called her into my office for a catch-up session, and after going through a few genuine nursery issues, I started to confide in her about my personal life. Not something I usually did.

  ‘As Tom is a shareholder, I think you should know that we’ve been having a few problems lately,’ I said. ‘Marital ones.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that,’ she mumbled. Her face began to twitch and the tips of her ears went red. She shifted about uncomfortably in her chair and kept looking towards the door.