It hurt to remember.
Emma shook her head. She wouldn’t think of all that. She had other things to think about, like that fake email and those rumours.
She still couldn’t shake the feeling that Tatjana might be involved.
But why would she do this?
She got her phone out and found Tatjana’s Instagram page again, scrutinising photos of her. She really was the spitting image of Jade if you imagined her short hair longer and added a few pounds.
‘I caught you!’ her mum said, strolling over. ‘Checking work emails, I bet?’
‘Actually, Mother, I wasn’t.’
‘She looks glamorous,’ her mother said, peering over her shoulder at Tatjana’s account.
Emma tucked the phone back in her pocket. ‘Yep, she is.’
‘A friend?’
‘Not really.’ Emma smiled at her mum. ‘You look like you’ve lost weight, Mum,’ she said, taking in her mother’s newly svelte figure.
‘Weight Watchers is working wonders,’ her mother said.
‘It suits you.’
‘Thanks, darling.’
In fact, everything about her mum’s life with Ray suited her. It felt good to see her happy after all these years. They had a lovely flat just a few minutes’ walk away from the river. Despite being in a completely different area from the one Emma and Harriet had grown up in on the other side of Dartmouth, it still felt the same in many ways. Same floral sofa, same cat ornaments, same mahogany glass-fronted units, same photos littering the walls with one main photo of Emma and Harriet as teenagers taking centre stage.
Emma watched as Ray helped Isla catch another crab. Ray was a good man. They’d met ten years ago, two years after Emma’s mum finally left Emma and Harriet’s dad. Her dad, though . . . well, he hadn’t been so lucky. Emma knew she’d played a role in his downward spiral. But she really had done all she could. How could you help someone who didn’t want helping?
Emma’s mother took a seat by her daughter and peered out at the vast estuary in front of them. ‘You’re lucky, it was hailing yesterday,’ she said.
‘It always seems sunny here when we come down.’
‘Always?’ her mum remarked with a raised eyebrow. ‘You mean the sum total of five days you’ve been here with Isla this year?’
‘Mum, come on, don’t give me a guilt trip, it’s a long way to come.’
‘I know, it took us four hours each way all the times we’ve come to visit you this year.’
Emma frowned, swirling her coffee around in her cup. In the distance, she noticed Harriet watching them, her brow creased.
‘We’re busy,’ Emma said. ‘You guys are retired now, you have more time.’
Her mother put her hand on her arm and squeezed it. ‘Don’t worry, love, I understand. I was only joking around. I’m pleased you’re here now, that’s what counts. God, she gets bigger and bigger every time I see her,’ she said as she watched Isla.
‘Doesn’t she?’
‘I remember the first time I held her, seems an age ago.’
‘Same,’ Emma whispered as she thought back to that time. It had been hard for her mum, as she’d had to wait a couple of weeks before seeing her new granddaughter. But Emma and Dele had been advised not to rush into introducing Isla to people. That first time they met, they decided to go to a park – neutral ground, as the social worker had advised. Isla had been shy at first, clinging to Emma. But it wasn’t long before she was giggling as Emma’s mother pushed her on a swing. Later, as Emma watched her mother holding Isla close, she’d had to leave the room, as she started crying. It had just been so wonderful to finally see her mother with a much-longed-for grandchild in her arms. Emma remembered hoping in that moment with all her heart that she and Isla would have the same relationship that she had had with her mother, one built on love, understanding and friendship, too.
Emma sunk her head on to her mother’s shoulder now, just as she used to when they would sit in this very same spot many years ago. They sat together in silence, taking in the quiet amble of a boat nearby, the flight of a seagull above.
‘Have you spoken to your dad lately?’ her mum asked after a while.
Emma sighed. ‘I sent him a text, no reply.’
‘I wish he’d meet someone,’ her mum said now. ‘A good woman to get him back on his feet.’
‘No chance, Mum. You didn’t put up with his drinking in the end, why would anyone else?’
‘He’s a good man, beneath it all.’
Emma wondered if her mum had meant to say ‘before it all’.
There was the sound of running as Isla came up, her bucket swinging from her hands. ‘Look, Mum, look! Crabs, loads of them.’
Emma fixed a smile on to her face. ‘Wow, seven of them! How awesome are you? I don’t think I got that many when I was a kid.’
‘Dad helped.’
‘Yep, that’s me, crab-catcher extraordinaire,’ Dele said as he walked over with her, puffing his chest out, Harriet rolling her eyes behind him.
Emma laughed, but then her laughter trailed off as she recognised a couple approaching from the distance.
Harriet followed her gaze, face clouding over.
It was their old next-door neighbours, the Coopers. They looked so much older now, and when Emma thought about it, that shouldn’t be a surprise; they were probably in their seventies. Emma and Harriet had grown up with their sons, Ed and Charlie, and the two families had been as close as you could get until Emma’s parents had to move away.
Emma’s mother clutched her daughter’s hand, a gesture of reassurance.
‘Hello,’ she said, smiling at the pair.
The couple nodded at her, but didn’t say anything. Instead, their eyes passed over to Emma, and Emma could see the memories in them. She smiled at them, because what else could she do? They gave her a faint smile back, then continued walking.
As they passed by, Emma let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding in.
‘Who were they?’ Dele asked, clearly sensing the tension.
‘Our old neighbours,’ Emma’s mother said.
‘I see,’ Dele said sombrely.
Emma’s mum stood up, taking her granddaughter’s hand. ‘Come on you, let’s go put those crabs back.’
‘You okay?’ Dele asked Emma when her mother was out of earshot. ‘I know it’s tough coming back here with the anniversary around the corner.’
Emma nodded, watching as the Coopers disappeared from sight.
‘Dad, look!’ Isla shouted.
‘You all right if I go over?’ Dele asked.
‘Yes, I like watching you both.’
As Dele walked over to his daughter, Harriet came up and sat with Emma. ‘You okay?’
‘I’m getting asked that a lot today!’
‘You just don’t seem yourself.’
Emma told her sister about the fake email.
‘Wow, the Bahamas, hey?’ Harriet said. ‘Isn’t that where Tatjana is from?’
‘Yes! That’s exactly what I thought.’
‘It can’t be a coincidence, surely? That and the rumours. What does Dele think?’
‘He thinks it’s some old racist dude,’ Emma said, quoting him.
‘No,’ Harriet said, shaking her head. ‘No way. I honestly think this Tatjana bird has something to do with it.’
‘But why? What reason would she have?’
‘Didn’t you say she looks like Isla’s birth mother?’
‘And?’
Harriet looked at Isla, who was now showing some passing children her crab haul. ‘What if she is Isla’s birth mother?’
Emma paused.
‘So the thought has crossed your mind,’ Harriet said, leaning forward, face earnest.
‘It sounds mad though, right?’
Harriet chewed on her lip, her bright-red lipstick rubbing off on her teeth. ‘Let’s think about this properly. If she is Isla’s birth mother, she could be trying to sabotage you as a moth
er to – what? Try to win Isla back?’
‘Maybe,’ Emma admitted, the thought striking fear into her.
‘Well, there are the rumours, which I guess could be intended to isolate you. She could have casually mentioned them to this Myra bird who she knew would be pathetic enough to pass them on. But it doesn’t sound like the rumours are exactly serious. The fake email, though!’
‘A school letter was missing from Isla’s bag, too, but there could be many reasons for that. I’m just being paranoid.’
Harriet examined her face. ‘But your intuition is telling you you’re not?’
Emma had to admit her sister was right. Her instincts told her something was off about Tatjana.
‘A mother’s intuition is pretty strong, Emma,’ Harriet said.
‘Okay, say I’m right,’ Emma said, shifting around on the bench to face Harriet. ‘Missing a payment deadline and some rumours aren’t exactly going to have the authorities rushing to take Isla off me, are they? Plus now Isla is officially ours, social services have nothing to do with us.’
‘Unless something serious did come to light.’
The two sisters caught each other’s eyes. Emma knew what she was thinking. There was something that could cause the authorities to consider taking Isla away from Emma, something from the past.
‘No,’ Emma said, shaking the thought away and crossing her arms. ‘I am being paranoid. You know how I can be sometimes, like the time I convinced myself I had a brain tumour after I couldn’t taste strawberries.’
Harriet laughed. ‘Yep, you are a daft old bint.’ She grew serious again as she peered at Dele. ‘Have you spoken to Dele about your suspicions?’
‘Not the idea that Tatjana could be Jade. He’d think I was off my rocker.’
‘Come on, he’s your husband – Isla’s dad! You need to tell him, sis. He’s a good man. You can’t deal with this alone.’
‘I have you, don’t I?’
Harriet put her hand on Emma’s, smiling sadly. ‘Talk to your husband. And if your instincts are right, make sure you channel a little bit of me, all right?’ Her blue eyes sparked with mischief. ‘Play Tatjana at her own bloody game. Nobody’s gonna take my niece away from her mummy, am I right?’
Emma took in a deep breath. ‘You’re right.’
That evening in bed, Dele seemed to sense Emma’s mood.
‘Okay, what’s going on?’
Emma sighed. ‘I’m going to say something and I want you to hold off telling me I’m crazy.’
‘What’s up?’
‘Promise!’
‘I promise!’ Dele said with a crease in his brow.
Emma looked down at her hands, which were crossed over the duvet. ‘I know you thought I was mad when I said Tatjana looks like Jade, but I just can’t shake the feeling.’
He shifted up on to his elbow, examining Emma’s face. ‘What are you saying?’
‘What if she is Jade?’
He laughed. ‘How much of your mum’s gin did you have tonight?’
‘I don’t drink, Dele, you know that. I’m just saying . . .’
‘You’re just saying Isla’s birth mother has managed to accumulate a career in fashion, a rich architect husband and a few hundred thousand pounds to build a house in the middle of the forest . . . in the space of nine years? The same girl who was living in a tiny flat with her mum and was claiming the dole every week?’
Emma thought of the young girl she’d met a week before Isla moved in with them. Her black hair a fuzzy mess, dark circles under her eyes. The way she was unable to maintain eye contact apart from the occasional glare.
‘I know, but my instincts . . .’ She let her voice trail off again.
‘Ah, the famous maternal instincts.’ Dele was silent for a few moments. ‘Okay, let’s start with the fake email. Who does it really impact? Isla, right? She’s the one who could have missed out on the school trip. If Jade was coming back to reclaim her birth child – and I think that’s what you’re implying?’ he asked. Emma didn’t say anything and he sighed. ‘If she is, why would she want Isla to miss out?’
‘To discredit me. Same reason for the missing letter and the rumours.’
‘I’m not buying it,’ Dele said. ‘Sorry babe, but it just doesn’t add up.’ He was quiet for a few moments. ‘Maybe being here has brought up some stuff for you, made your head get all . . .’
‘All what? I’m not losing it, Dele. I have cold hard facts. You can’t deny the faked email?’
‘I can’t, but I do not think Isla’s birth mother is behind it, for Christ’s sake. Do you know how nuts that sounds?’
Emma chewed at her lip. ‘Yes, but something doesn’t feel right.’
Dele closed his eyes briefly, taking in a deep breath. ‘Okay, let’s just go with this for now. So Jade was a heroin addict who dropped out of school when she was fourteen but sure, let’s imagine she’s turned her life around.’
‘It happens, Dele. It’s rare, but it really does happen. She was bright – the assessment said that, remember? Before she got involved with her first boyfriend, she was doing really well.’
‘Fine then, she turns her life around, qualifies in fashion design with what money?’
Emma shrugged. ‘Students get grants.’
‘Not any more. Not like people did back in the nineties.’
‘But there are provisions.’
‘Maybe, but it still costs money. Didn’t Tatjana say she went to a Scottish university? Why go so far?’
‘Because she wanted to get away from it all . . . or maybe she’s lying about her qualifications. Faye said she looked up the university and they don’t even do a fashion course.’
Dele sighed. ‘What next? Ah, that’s right, the name change. So Jade changes her name because – what? She was hatching a long-term plan to one day steal Isla away?’
‘Maybe,’ Emma said, thinking of Isla, who was sleeping soundly in the room next door. ‘Or maybe she just did it as a symbol of how she’s changed. New life, new name.’
‘And then she meets a rich architect?’
‘Why not? She’s beautiful, successful now.’
‘And they just so happen to choose Forest Grove and secure the rights to the land this house was built on within a matter of months? We only moved here ourselves a few months ago, remember?’
He had a point. ‘When people are determined, great things can be achieved,’ she said, quoting what her dad had once said about Harriet.
‘Oh babe,’ Dele said. ‘Why don’t you just chat to Tatjana? Isn’t it better to be open about these things?’
‘What, you mean go up to her and ask her if she’s Isla’s birth mother!’
‘No!’ Dele said, laughing. ‘I mean about the rumours, maybe even casually mention the fake email too, gauge her reaction.’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ Emma said. Dele was clearly completely dismissing the idea that Tatjana might be Isla’s birth mother.
But Emma had a feeling Tatjana was the kind of person who was very good at pretending.
Emma walked into the school playground on Monday feeling awful. First, they’d got back from Dartmouth super late the night before after being stuck in traffic. Second, she’d been brewing a cold most of the previous day and now it was coming out in true style. Third, it was raining so hard that a huge puddle had formed at the entrance to the school, meaning the bottom of her trousers got absolutely soaked as she carried Isla over it to stop her getting wet.
Emma entered the playground and huddled under a tree as Isla ran off to play with her friends. She couldn’t even check her phone; it would get wet.
She was relieved when Shawn joined her.
‘Ah, British weather,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘Fraser was bending my ear about this over dinner last weekend, he reckons a storm is coming.’
‘I think it’s time to move to the Maldives then,’ Emma replied, blowing her nose with her tissue.
‘You’ve got a cold, too,’ Shawn noticed. ‘Faye�
��s off work feeling shite as well.’
‘Oh bless her.’
Over the rest of the week, Emma spent the five-minute wait outside school chatting to Shawn, mainly about football and the kids. Shawn always sought her out and Emma wondered if Dele had had a word with him about how lonely she felt. That was a very Dele thing to do, though it made her feel a bit embarrassed: poor Shawn having to force himself to talk to his mate’s wife. He didn’t seem to mind, though. Maybe it was refreshing for him, not being surrounded by gushing mums. Sure, Emma could see the attraction, but she definitely wasn’t one of the gushing mums. Shawn was just someone fun to talk to, and it beat standing alone while Faye recovered from her cold at home . . . or chatting to Tatjana, something she was doing her best to avoid.
On Friday morning Emma was looking forward to catching up with Faye. Shawn had told her she was better now and would be dropping the kids off. But Faye wasn’t there when the school bell rang. Maybe they were running late?
After making sure Isla got into class okay, Emma strolled towards her car, checking her phone. Lawrence was already keeping her busy with work, Myra sending haughty messages on his behalf at all hours. They were paying a nice amount, though, and Emma’s boss had been so impressed he’d given her a bonus, so it was worth it.
As she went to cross the road, someone called out her name. She turned to see it was Faye. Emma smiled.
But then she noticed the look on Faye’s face.
She was fuming!
Chapter Seventeen
Friday 16th October
8.47 a.m.
Emma’s smile faltered as Faye stopped before her, face like stone. ‘You okay, Faye?’ she asked in a shaky voice.
Faye leaned in close to Emma. ‘Shawn may play the field at the football club,’ she hissed, ‘but he doesn’t play the field with me, understood?’
Emma stepped back, shocked. ‘Excuse me?’
Faye crossed her arms. ‘How can I put it more succinctly? Hands off my husband!’
She said it so loud, passing mums paused to watch, curious. Even a curtain twitched in a house nearby.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Emma said, cheeks flushing.
‘Oh, don’t play the fool,’ Faye said, looking her up and down in disgust. ‘I know what you said to him yesterday.’
Circle of Doubt Page 12