by Rona Halsall
Ten minutes later, she found Mia with a nurse, who was obviously waiting for Becca to appear as her face lit up with relief when she arrived. ‘Here’s Mummy.’
Mia’s face was tear-stained, a bruise on her cheek, her lips puckered as she gulped down her sobs. She squealed when she saw Becca, eyes round with delight.
‘Is she okay?’ Becca asked, scooping her daughter into her arms, stroking her hair as Mia snuggled her head into Becca’s neck. She could feel her hot breath on her skin, her little fingers tangling in her hair as if she was trying to anchor herself. Becca’s breath hiccupped in her throat as she tried not to cry; the relief at being with her daughter again almost overwhelming. She held her tighter, kissing her cheek, tasting the salty tears.
The nurse smiled. ‘She’s just a bit shaken, a few bumps and bruises, but apart from that, she’s fine. I’ll get the doctor to come and have a word in a minute, if you like?’
‘Lovely,’ Becca said, nervously scanning the curtained cubicles, unsure if Dean was in one of them, listening. ‘Um… I believe her dad… my husband is in here, somewhere.’
‘Yes, that’s right. He’s just seen the doctor. There’s a nasty gash on his hand and there might be broken bones, so he’s just gone down to X-ray. If you’d like to go through to the waiting room, I’ll give you a shout when he’s back, shall I?’
Becca’s mind was racing as she clung on to her daughter, hardly able to believe she was back in her arms. ‘That would be great, thanks.’
‘There’s a toy box in the corner and a few books to keep her amused,’ the nurse added before showing them through the double doors and out of the department.
This is my chance.
As soon as the nurse had gone, Becca walked out of the waiting room and out of the hospital. Nobody was going to take Mia away from her now she had her back. Nobody.
Kate was critically ill. Dean was injured and incapable of driving. Frank appeared to be in shock, so wouldn’t be able to help her. None of them were going anywhere anytime soon, giving her time to make her escape and get a head start before anyone would miss her and Mia.
She hurried to Frank’s car, her eyes scanning the car park, expecting to see somebody running after her, but it was quiet at this time of night. Her heart thundered in her chest, making her feel lightheaded as she clasped her daughter tight.
‘Everything’s going to be fine,’ she murmured as she speed-walked across the car park while her mind tried to catch up.
What’s the plan? She had nowhere she could go. Nobody who could help. She was on her own.
37
Mia started screaming as soon as she saw the car and understood she was supposed to get in it.
‘Not going in there, Mummy. Not going!’ She squirmed and wriggled like a live eel, shrieking and crying, creating the sort of noise that would make anyone believe she was being murdered.
Becca had to put her down but kept a firm hold of her hand, glancing around to make sure nobody was paying attention. Fortunately, the car park was empty, and she put a hand to her chest, her heart pounding at a rate that was surely unnatural. She cursed herself for not realising her daughter would be petrified of cars after the accident. She hadn’t been a fan before but now it was going to be nigh on impossible to get her to cooperate. Then she remembered her secret weapon: the unicorn.
‘Look who I’ve got here,’ she cooed as she fumbled the toy out of her bag. ‘Peppa came with me. She missed you.’
Mia was silenced immediately, as if Becca had pushed an on–off button, staring at her toy with big round eyes, still troubled but curious. She sniffed and held out a hand and Becca pretended to make the unicorn jump into her arms, snuggling against Mia’s chest. Delighted, the little girl swung to and fro, squishing the toy against her while she covered its face with kisses.
Becca leant against the car, stuck for ideas as to what to do next. If she couldn’t use Frank’s car, she’d have to get herself to the station. It would be simple enough to get a train back to Llandudno, if that’s where she wanted to go. Or Bangor. But those were obvious destinations and she’d be found immediately, accused of kidnapping, and everything would be ten times worse. She sighed and ruled it out as an option. Really, though, they could go wherever they wanted, have an adventure. She didn’t have to go anywhere near North Wales.
Her mind raced on, jumbling a plan together. She was sure Mia wouldn’t get in a taxi, so if she was going anywhere, she’d have to get a bus to the station. A glance at her watch told her it was coming up to midnight. There’d be no buses until the morning now. Realistically, she couldn’t expect Mia to walk any distance after the trauma of the crash, and Becca’s arms were already aching from holding her. Reality hit home, making her eyes sting. I’m not going anywhere.
She scanned the deserted car park, searching for inspiration, but she couldn’t focus. And although she was desperate to get away with her daughter, the fact that her sister was in intensive care kept forcing itself to the front of her mind. It was a puzzle as to why she’d suddenly turned vindictive now, when Becca and Dean had been together for so many years. Perhaps when she’d come back from Manchester and was closer to him again, that had reminded her of the relationship she’d lost. Becca wanted justice, but there was no way she wanted her sister dead. In fact, Kate dying would make everything worse – any evidence that Becca had of Kate’s involvement was circumstantial at best, and what she really needed was a confession. Without that, the authorities would still think she was the one harming Mia and was conveniently blaming it on her dead sister. Then she’d be forever branded as unfit to be a parent to her child.
She looked back at the hospital. That’s where the solution to her problems lay, with Kate and Dean. Running away wouldn’t solve anything, it would make her troubles worse. The answer was to confront Dean with what she knew. If he wasn’t involved, he’d be appalled that Kate would do such a thing, and there was a chance he would help Becca to prove her innocence. If he was involved… well, at least if she confronted him face to face, she might be able to tell from his body language whether he was lying.
Even if Dean hadn’t been spending as much time with Mia as Becca would have liked, he was a caring father, and she’d always thought he’d lay down his life to protect their child. She nodded to herself, sure that this had to be Kate acting on her own. Her objective was very clear, a double whammy: Becca to be disgraced and ejected from the family so Kate could take her place. Then Becca would have nowhere to go but back to live with Frank, and she would take over caring duties.
‘Hungry, Mummy,’ Mia said, and Becca was jolted from her thoughts and back to the question of what to do now. She hadn’t eaten since lunchtime and she had no idea when Mia had last eaten either.
One step at a time. That’s the way to do this.
Mia was shivering and Becca wondered if there was something in the car she could use to keep her warm. She had a root around in the back and found a fleece of Frank’s. It was enormous on Mia, but with the sleeves rolled up, it would keep her warm. Becca was about to lock the car when she spotted Frank’s iPad stuffed into the pocket behind the passenger seat. It would be handy to keep Mia distracted, she thought, and put it in her bag.
‘Let’s go and find something to eat, shall we?’ she said to Mia as she picked her up again and swung her on to her hip. She was pale and the bruise on the side of her head was darkening, but the promise of food brought a smile to her face before she laid her head on Becca’s shoulder and latched her fingers into her hair once more.
The hard way is the easy way. It was a quote Becca had read on one of Kate’s motivational posters, and it had struck her as being the truth. The people she needed to speak to were here in the hospital, and the only way to sort out this whole nightmare situation was to confront it.
The café run by the volunteers was shut, although the dining area remained open. There was a vending machine full of snacks and she bought sandwiches and some drinks, which she took to a
table in the corner of the L-shaped room. A couple of the other tables were occupied by exhausted-looking people, who gave Mia wan smiles. Hospitals were strange places at night, she’d always thought, hushed and serious. Often sad. When all was said and done, there weren’t many reasons why you’d choose to be here in the middle of the night. Births and deaths, two ends of the spectrum of life.
Dean will be trying to find us, she thought as she chewed her food. What if he calls the police? Quickly, she took her phone out of her bag to message him, cursing when she found the battery was flat.
Then she remembered Frank’s iPad in her bag. She could use that instead. He’d told her his passcode as she’d used it recently to download programmes for Mia to watch last time they’d been in his car.
She tapped in the number, relieved when it sprang to life. It opened on a Twitter account. She blinked, not understanding for a moment what she was seeing. But there really was no mistaking it – Surferdude’s account was staring right at her.
38
Her brain froze as her eyes scanned the page. With shaking hands, she went to messages, and there they were, all their conversations. It had been Frank she’d been talking to, pretending to be Connor.
Mia saw the iPad open and clambered on to her knee. ‘Peppa Pig, Mummy. Let’s watch Peppa.’
On autopilot, Becca found an episode and let it play, sound down, while Mia snuggled in to watch, the ear of the unicorn in her mouth, always a precursor to sleep. Becca rocked gently from side to side, stroking Mia’s hair while she watched the animated figures on the screen, not seeing them, as her mind wrestled with her new discovery.
After a few minutes, when she was sure Mia was settled, Becca went back to Twitter and soon found the fake Connor Cywinski account that she’d blocked originally. There was no mistaking it now, no way she could argue his innocence. It had been her dad all along.
The revelation brought a heaviness to her body, a weariness to her brain. The man she’d trusted most had been secretly undermining her marriage, smashing her life apart. The more she thought about it, the more clearly she could see that Frank had as much to gain as Kate from the breakdown of her marriage. It was something that would suit them both in equal measure. Frank wanted Kate gone and Becca to take her place.
Her thoughts took another step, reaching a conclusion that shocked her to the core. The only way he could be sure of that was if he created a situation where Becca wouldn’t be allowed to live at home. By making her appear to be an unfit mother.
Were Kate and Dad in it together? Were those rows a sham? A way to make me feel sorry for him? And what about Dean?
Her head ached but she knew she couldn’t stop now. She was getting close to the truth and wanted to gather as much evidence as she could to substantiate her theory before she went to the police. The internet search history on the iPad showed a whole list of articles on how to make people sick without being found out. Epsom salts was the answer, apparently, but not too much or you could damage the stomach lining and kill people. She closed her eyes for a moment, shocked that anyone would take that risk, but she would bet that once the liquid in the syringe was tested, that’s what it would be. She’d even seen the bag of Epsom salts in the bathroom at her dad’s house, had listened to him telling her how it made for a nice relaxing bath. She gritted her teeth and made herself read on. There were numerous articles on factitious disorder. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck.
It was chilling to see how carefully her dad had done his research and planned everything out. He knew Becca’s weakness, knew that having been under suspicion in the past, it would be straightforward enough to make people doubt her again. Fury built inside her as she scrolled down the entries until she could look no more and flicked the case back over the screen.
She thought she knew the truth now. The problem was… would anyone believe her?
39
She sat for a long time, letting her mind drift over the problem, studying it from different angles. Frank wasn’t the only person who used the iPad, that was the issue – so he could easily deny all knowledge and point the finger back at Kate. She came back to the idea that the two of them were working together. Or maybe it was Kate all along, cleverly doing the research and running the Twitter account on Frank’s device to shift any blame. The box she’d found upstairs couldn’t be classed as hard evidence as it could have been planted by any one of them.
Then it struck her like a hammer blow, leaving the thought ringing in her head. The blame could be put back on me. She had access to the iPad. Her fingerprints were all over the Tupperware box with the syringe of liquid and the sweets in it.
She tugged at her hair, frustrated by the cleverness of the trap.
With Kate in intensive care, it was a difficult time to pursue the truth. What if Kate was innocent? How would Becca feel if her sister died, and in her last living moments, Becca had hated her for something she hadn’t done? She’d learnt from her mother’s death that someone dying when there was bad feeling tainted memories, left you wishing you’d done things differently, moved to resolve issues when you’d had the chance.
She needed to talk to someone outside the loop, someone who could give her a fresh perspective, who wasn’t involved in the investigation. The only person she could think of was Connor. She pulled her phone out of her bag then remembered when the screen wouldn’t come to life that it was dead.
‘Bloody stupid thing,’ she muttered, throwing it on the table.
Her limbs were leaden with exhaustion, the day having stretched for what seemed like a week. Unsure what to do for the best, she rested her head on top of Mia’s. The silky softness of her child’s hair against Becca’s cheek was such a precious sensation, she closed her eyes for a moment, thinking that she would do whatever it may take to keep Mia by her side.
She was woken by a hand shaking her shoulder. Not gently, but a rough tug, making her teeth rattle.
‘Becca! What are you doing? Give her to me. Right now. Give her to me.’
Before she was fully awake, Mia had been wrenched from her arms, leaving a cold, baffling emptiness. Becca blinked, disorientated and confused.
Dean was glaring at her, Mia on his hip. She was obviously as perturbed as Becca, not sure what was happening, and her bottom lip wobbled. His left hand was bandaged and in a splint, his face bruised and swollen from where the airbag had hit him. He was in a sorry state, but his eyes sparked. This was Dean the Protector, doing whatever was needed to keep his daughter safe.
Becca’s anger ignited, her whole body infused with a sudden burst of energy. Fight or flight, that was the choice, and this time she knew she had to stay. She was in the right; she had the moral high ground. He was the one having an affair, who’d been running off to London with his lover. She glared at him, forcing her words from between clenched teeth.
‘You were being treated in A & E. Mia was restless and the nurse had other things to do. We were hungry, so we came here.’ Her eyes narrowed, her voice getting louder as the rage blazed inside her. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong. You, on the other hand… well, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.’
‘Don’t you come near us,’ Dean hissed. ‘You’re bloody deluded. I can’t trust you after the things you’ve done.’
Becca’s eye widened and she reeled back in her chair. ‘And what exactly have I done? Because there’s a hell of a lot of wrong assumptions being made here. Two and two making five.’
He seemed taken aback. ‘I don’t have to spell it out. You shouldn’t be here and you know it. I’ll have to tell the safeguarding team that you’ve contravened the rules. Again. It won’t look good.’
They stared at each other, gladiators circling, considering the best place to strike.
‘You and Kate,’ she snarled. ‘How long’s that been going on behind my back?’
His right eye twitched and she noticed his Adam’s apple bob up and down.
‘When were you going to tell me? What was the plan, eh
? Move to London with her and then send me a change of address?’
Mia started to cry, upset by the tone of their voices, the vitriol that infused the air between them. The other two people in the café were watching them. She swallowed back the torrent of angry words and gave her daughter a reassuring smile, hoping she wouldn’t know that she was seething inside, the curve of her lips a pretence. Dean shushed Mia and kissed his daughter’s head, wincing as he knocked his damaged hand.
The strength seemed to go from him then and he sank into a chair on the opposite side of the table. She could see his jaw working, could tell from his pinched expression that he was in pain. They were silent while they waited for Mia to settle again. Finally, when her eyelids drooped and her body relaxed against Dean’s, it was time for round two.
‘Let me show you something,’ Becca said, her voice a murmur, so as not to wake Mia. She opened the iPad and found the Twitter account, then turned the screen so he could see. ‘This is Dad’s iPad. Looks like he put up the fake account, pretending to be Connor. He was trying to trick me into saying I still loved him. Trying to get evidence to break up our marriage.’ She gave a derisive snort. ‘He didn’t need to go to all the trouble, did he? If he’d been patient, you would have broken us up anyway.’
Dean was silent, staring at the screen.
Fuelled by injustice, she decided she might as well throw the full story at him. See how he felt about his shiny new life then.
‘I think Dad is the one who was poisoning Mia as well. Or it could be Kate. Maybe the two of them. When she left today, I found a box in her office with sweets and a syringe and this clear liquid, which I think from the research history on here is Epsom salts. Thing is, he could have planted it there.’
Dean was listening intently now.
‘So either this is all Dad or it’s Kate and Dad, working together to get what they both want. Kate wants you. Dad wants me to look after him. And if that’s what’s happened, neither of them gives a toss about Mia.’