scream that he was crazy, coked up and out of his mind.
But from the wild look in his eyes, now was not the time.
‘But look at her,’ Sheridan said, turning to Roz. In
the grip of pain, the young woman was bent over, still
holding the shard of glass in her hand. Sheridan turned
back to Mike. ‘We can’t. Not now.’
‘I’m sorry, Sherry, but it’s the only way to keep you out
of prison.’ His jaw remained rigid, his fingers tightening
around the trigger of his gun.
Sheridan knew by Mike’s tone that the decision was
out of her hands. Like it or not, he was taking care of
this. She could find herself at the other end of the barrel if she did not comply.
‘What are you saying?’ Roz said, blood dripping from
her thumb as she tightly gripped the shard of glass.
Sheridan’s eyes blurred with tears as she watched Roz
struggle to stay on her feet.
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‘Just go,’ Mike said. ‘It’s not fair to drag this out.’
The decision to leave her baby was agonising, but she
had no choice. For every moment Sheridan stayed, she
was only adding to Roz’s pain. They had to put an end
to this now.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said to Roz. Backing away towards
the lift, she kept her eyes on her. ‘I’ll get the doctor.
Everything will be all right.’ But her words lacked con-
viction as tears trailed down her face.
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CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Roz
I succumbed to the vice-like grip of my contractions, my
legs turning to jelly as I fought to keep upright. I accepted the drink from Sheridan’s outstretched hand but had no
intention of letting it pass my lips. I could not risk her
forcing me to swallow it. From the look on her face, the
drink contained more than just vitamins. But I did not
realise it was real glass until it smashed against the wall.
During the last hour, my contractions had progressed
at a rapid rate. I was still wearing my tracksuit bottoms,
unwilling to change into one of Kelly’s dresses. I could
not bear to look at them. It terrified me to imagine hist-
ory repeating itself all over again.
I pleaded with Sheridan for help, sweat rolling down
my back. Pain was making me crazy. I could not deliver
Ashling alone. Then I saw it, a flicker of sympathy in
her eyes. But just when I was getting through to her,
Mike stepped into the room. His presence was dark and
brooding, making the sweat lacing my skin turn cold. I
shuddered as I clung on to my only weapon, a piece of
glass I had picked up from the floor. Swiping my hair
from my face, I begged Sheridan for release.
From the moment I saw Mike I knew that he was
there with one intention in mind. Pain rippled through
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my body as I tried to defend myself. Daniel had aban-
doned me. Even the staff who I thought were helping me
had left me all alone. Nobody was coming. I was weak,
emotional and outnumbered.
‘Get away from me!’ I screamed at Mike. My fingers
tightened around the glass and I felt a sharp stab of pain.
I turned to Sheridan, watching her mumble to Mike
before backing towards the lift.
Mike advanced, his gaze filled with determination.
Fear was all-encompassing as the realisation hit me: they
weren’t waiting for my baby to be born, and they cer-
tainly weren’t letting me go home. We were both going
to die.
‘Please, don’t leave me alone with him,’ I snivelled.
‘Please, Sheridan, I won’t tell anyone. You promised to
let me go.’
Her eyes moist with tears, Sheridan shook her head.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, calling the lift.
I followed her gaze to the object in Mike’s hand.
Horror ripped through me as I realised he was carrying
a gun. How could I defend myself against that?
‘I’ll get the doctor,’ Sheridan said. ‘Everything will
be all right.’
I tried to breathe through my pain. Mike had claimed
her mobile phone. He was calling the shots now. All I
could think about was my baby, about the life she would
not live to enjoy. My Ashling would never draw breath,
feel the sun on her skin.
‘Please! At least take the baby. She’s your little girl,
don’t let him…’
But my words came to an abrupt end as I fought for
my next breath. Ashling was coming whether I liked it
or not. And now there was a man pointing a gun at my
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head. His face was stony. Another wave of contractions
weakened my limbs.
Mike paused, waiting for Sheridan to leave. The very
second she stepped into the lift, my baby and I were dead.
As he reached for a pillow from the bed, I began to pray.
‘Our Father, who art in heaven…’ Between panicked
breaths, I uttered the words.
The words gave Mike pause, and a shadow crossed his
face as I asked God to forgive those who trespass against
us. But Sheridan turned her back on us both. My time was
up. I dropped the piece of glass as the lift doors opened
and she stepped inside.
I pressed my face into the duvet and cried out for my
child, waiting for the end.
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CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Sheridan
Sheridan could not listen to Roz’s cries for a second longer.
As Mike picked up a pillow and held the gun level with
her head, the lift doors rolled open. The invitation to
escape was one she could not ignore. She could hardly see
through her tears, but the moment she put a foot inside,
she was forced to retreat.
‘Monica? George? What are you doing here?’ Sheridan
swallowed back her tears, tried to think on her feet as
she attempted to usher them back inside. ‘Why don’t we
go upstairs?’
‘I don’t think so.’ In a cloud of heady perfume, Monica
pushed past.
Sheridan staggered on her heels at the force of Monica’s
shoulder barging against hers.
‘George!’ Sheridan’s voice crackled as she tried to
drive him back in. But George barely glanced her way
as he followed Monica into the basement.
It was too late. They had already seen the gun in
Mike’s hand.
‘What are you gonna do, Mike, shoot us all?’ Monica’s
Boston accent rang loud and clear.
‘Help me!’ Roz cried, relief flooding her face. ‘I’m
having a baby. Call the police! Please!’
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Caroline Mitchell
But as Monica retrieved her phone from her pocket,
Mike turned the gun on her.
She raised her hands in the air. ‘No need for that, big
guy. Why don’t ya put the gun down?’
‘Throw your phone over here,’ he commanded.
Sheridan’s stomach lurched. The room had descended
into chaos. There was no way out now. ‘George.’
Her
voice was harsh. ‘Stand behind me.’ If she had to choose,
she would save George first.
‘Do as she says,’ Mike roared. ‘Just remember, I’ve got
plenty of bullets for everyone.’
Monica stood, her hands on her hips, her feet planted
wide. ‘Don’t you dare threaten me, you piece of shit. I know what you lot are up to. I can’t believe you’ve done it again.’
‘Again?’ Sheridan raised her voice as Roz’s screams
filled the room. Any second now, Mike could turn around
and shut her up for good. As for Monica … there was no
way Mike would let her go. Anyone who knew about
Kelly was as good as dead. But the last thing Sheridan
wanted was to lose her friend.
Monica glared at her, fearless. ‘I know everything
about you, Sheridan. What did you call me? The author
of your pain. I knew I’d unravel the truth in the end.’
‘No!’ Sheridan said, the blood draining from her face.
‘I was talking about Alex Santana. He’s…’
‘Not a he,’ Monica finished her sentence. ‘It’s my
pseudonym. Now call off the Rottweiler. He doesn’t
intimidate me.’
But Mike was in no mood to lower his gun. ‘She’s a
journo? I ain’t going back to prison.’
‘The police are on their way,’ Monica said, her eyes
flickering to the side as she exchanged a glance with
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The Perfect Mother
George. But George hesitated to back her up for a split
second too long.
Sheridan shook her head. They had come down here
expecting to confront her alone. They had no way of
knowing about Mike and the gun – there were no police
on their way.
Mike could see it, too. ‘You’re bluffing. You came here
looking for a story – one you could keep to yourself. But
you weren’t expecting to stumble into this.’
The look on George’s face told Sheridan that Mike had
hit the nail on the head. Mike’s tongue darted between
his lips as his finger curled around the trigger. Glancing
from left to right, he surveyed the people in the room.
Sheridan knew he was a good shot. She had practised
with him enough times down at the rifle range when
they were teens. She could see he was mentally doing
the maths, working out his options. He could take them
all out before anyone could reach the lift.
‘Nobody needs to get hurt.’ George’s voice was shaky
as he took a step towards Roz. ‘Please,’ he continued. ‘Let me get her out of here before she has her baby on the floor.’
Her face slick with sweat, Roz screamed into her
duvet as the latest contraction took hold.
Sheridan looked to Mike for help. Her armpits were
damp beneath her shirt, her limbs rigid with the need
to leave. The scene felt surreal, as if any second now a
director would shout, ‘Cut!’
‘You’re right,’ said Mike. ‘We need to do something
before the baby’s born.’ Releasing the safety catch, he
aimed the gun at Roz.
But George didn’t stop, despite knowing he could
be next.
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Caroline Mitchell
‘Step away from her, George, or I’ll stop your mother’s
treatment. I mean it! Do as I say!’ Sheridan screamed in
frustration, a desperate measure to save her friend.
‘There’s something you should know.’ George’s tone
was flat as he whipped his hand from behind his back.
‘My mother died.’
A flash of silver erupted into a deafening bang. The
smell of gunpowder filled the air as Mike’s body hit the
floor.
‘You took your time,’ Monica said, her relief evident as
she scrambled for her phone. ‘Guess I should call the cops.’
‘Ambulance first.’ Dropping the gun to the floor,
George reached Roz’s side. ‘Ahh, my ear – shit, that
was loud,’ he said, pounding the butt of his palm against
it before wrapping his arm around Roz. ‘It’s OK.’ He
smoothed back her sweat-drenched hair. ‘Everything’s
going to be OK. Help is on its way.’
Her legs crumpling beneath her, Sheridan knelt with
her hands pressed against her ears. But the ringing noise
continued, along with the pounding in her head.
Mike’s foot twitched as he lay on the floor, his hand
outstretched, blood pooling from his chest.
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CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Roz
Relief flooded my system, temporarily numbing the pain.
My baby was fighting to be born. New life would prevail
despite the horrors around me. I had never been so happy
to see so many uniformed officials at once.
‘What’s your name, pet?’
The paramedic’s Geordie accent took me by surprise.
She was middle-aged, motherly, another person far from
home. ‘Roz,’ I said, my legs shaking as she guided me
towards a trolley.
‘OK Roz, I need you to put your arm around me and
edge your bottom on to the trolley so we can get you out
of here. Then we’re going to pop your tracksuit bottoms
off so I can have a quick look.’ She took in my horrified
reaction. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll cover you up with a blan-
ket first. Roz?’ Panic was driving my breath, which was
coming far too fast. It felt like my lungs were collapsing, and I couldn’t draw in enough air.
Police were swarming around George, confiscating
his gun. Another paramedic tended to Mike, placing a
mask over his face. Everyone was talking at once and I
couldn’t take it in. The paramedic clicked her fingers
before my face, making me blink.
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Caroline Mitchell
‘Roz.’ Her face was inches from my own. ‘Don’t mind
them. Focus on my voice. Deep breaths, nice and slow.’
She laid a hand on my stomach. ‘Why don’t we get you
up here before the next one hits?’
She was talking about the impending contractions,
which were coming almost back to back. Once on the
trolley, she covered me with a blanket and checked me as
discreetly as she could. ‘Not long now,’ she said.
I groaned as another wave of contractions threatened
to carry me away.
‘I’m going to give you some oxygen.’ She placed the
mask over my face, instructing me to inhale. ‘Easy now,
pet, not too much or you’ll make yourself dizzy.’ After a
few steady breaths, I lay the mask by my side. I cast one
last glance over at Monica and George as I was wheeled
out. If they hadn’t come in when they did, my baby and
I would have died.
Shocked faces passed in a blur as people gathered on
the street, and the fresh air was as good as any drug as it hit my face. I must have been out of it, as for a brief second, I thought I saw Dympna’s face in the crowd. Then a flash
of police car lights caught my eye as uniformed officers
drew up to the ambulance, preparing to follow us. Sheridan
had made so many threats; would the police believe me?
All that mattered was my baby
. I prayed that she was OK.
‘They kidnapped me – Sheridan Sinclair and Daniel
Watson,’ I said, inhaling a deep breath in the back of the
ambulance. ‘They’ve kept me in a basement for months.’
I watched the paramedics exchange glances. It felt like
forever before we reached the hospital but in reality, just minutes had passed.
* * *
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The Perfect Mother
‘You’re fully dilated,’ the OBGYN said. ‘There’s no time
to give you a spinal block.’
I didn’t care. After all I had been through, I was just
grateful to be there. I glanced at her freckles and felt a
pang as I thought of Dympna, so many miles away. Soon
I would be able to call her. We would be together again.
Tears of relief streaked down the sides of my face as I
heard the strong, healthy heartbeat of my baby. My little
warrior. My Ashling.
My body was rigid with tension, and I gritted my teeth
as I worked through the pain. I deserved every second
of discomfort. It was my mistakes that had led me here.
I had almost got my baby killed; the least I could do was
endure a natural birth. But the process I was undergoing
felt like the most unnatural thing in the world.
* * *
A blonde-haired nurse popped her head around the door.
‘You’ve got a visitor. Can she come in?’
‘Who is it?’ I said, terrified it was Sheridan and I
would be dragged back to the basement. It was irrational,
crazy – but so were the last six months of my life. What if the police believed Sheridan’s account over mine? Would
I ever escape the nightmare I had found myself in?
‘Her name is Dympna.’ She smiled as she watched my
face light up. ‘From Ireland.’
So I had seen her? My fists tightened into knots as my contraction gripped hard.
‘Yes,’ I managed to squeeze out mid-grunt. ‘Let her
in.’ But I didn’t believe it was her, not until I saw her
shock of red hair.
‘Merciful hour!’ she cried, rushing to my side.
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Caroline Mitchell
I exhaled a low moan, gripping her by the hand. ‘I’m
so glad you’re here,’ I said, my shoulders dropping as the
contraction ebbed away.
‘Me too, chick. I saw them put you in the back of the
ambulance. We’ve been looking for you all this time.’
She sniffled, wiping her tears with the back of her sleeve.
‘Sorry it took so long.’
‘The baby’s father…’ I said, trying to catch my breath.
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