‘I have lots of Facebook friends,’ Emer said. ‘Half of them, I barely remember how I know them.’
‘You’re getting married?’ Kitty said, remembering Emer’s post about her girlfriend proposing to her. ‘Nikki, isn’t it? She looks lovely.’
‘I don’t want to talk about Nikki,’ Emer said abruptly. ‘Not now. I want to talk about you, and why you left.’
‘How did you cope?’ Kitty asked. ‘Growing up with our mother must have been hell.’
‘It wasn’t easy,’ Emer said. ‘But she was never as bad with me as she was with you. And she got a lot better after we moved in with Robert. Oh God. You probably don’t even know, do you? Dad left and Mum remarried Robert O’Brien. Remember him? But I can tell you about that later. First, I want to know what happened.’
The cold clutch of fear when she heard his name. Even now, all these years later.
‘I knew,’ she said, when she could trust herself to speak. ‘I’ve read about Robert’s progress over the years. And seen the photos of the two of them together. I can’t imagine what it must be like, having that man as a stepfather.’
‘He’s been great,’ Emer said. ‘More than great, in fact.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’ Emer frowned. ‘Why wouldn’t he be?’
‘Because…’ Kitty paused. ‘Sorry. This isn’t easy. They were having an affair. Mum and Mr O’Brien. Did you know that?’
‘I’ve heard rumours,’ Emer said. ‘But even if they were, so what? Ursula’s been a lot better with Robert than she ever was with Dad.’
‘Ursula?’
‘It’s what she likes to be called,’ Emer said. ‘Anyway, that’s not important. I want to know what happened, Kitty. Why did you leave?’
‘They didn’t give me a choice,’ Kitty said. ‘Lucy was dead and I knew who killed her. They told me if I went to the Guards, you’d be next.’
Thirty-nine
June 1997
‘Kitty! I know you’re in there. Open the door and let me in. All I want to do is talk to you. Please, Kitty.’
She squeezed her eyes shut and put her hands over her ears. But she wasn’t able to block out the sound of Lucy’s father banging on the front door, or the desperate edge to his voice as he shouted up to her.
The temptation to get up, go downstairs and speak to him was hard to resist. Because she liked Mr Ryan. He was kind and funny and he was always nice to Kitty when she was at Lucy’s house. He deserved to know the truth. That Lucy was dead because Kitty had pushed her in front of a car. And later, after Kitty was dead, the man who’d been driving the car had carried Lucy’s body into the woods and buried it. She wanted him to know she was sorry. That she’d tried to stop the man taking Lucy’s body, but he’d forced her inside the boot of the car and locked her in there until he was finished.
The problem was, if she told all this to Mr Ryan, he would want to know who the man was, and Kitty wasn’t allowed to tell him that. Because if she told anyone – even Mr Ryan, who deserved to know the truth – she would be in worse trouble than she already was.
Outside, she heard a car pull up. Doors slamming, the clatter of her mother’s heels on the pavement. The sound triggered another memory from that night, something else she didn’t want to think about but it was there, inside her head, and she couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard she tried.
‘Niall, you need to leave the girl alone.’
Her mother’s voice, sharp and unsympathetic like the rest of her.
‘How can I do that, Ursula? My child is missing and Kitty’s refusing to tell anyone where she is. Have you tried speaking to her?’
‘She doesn’t know anything. I’ve already told you that. I want you to leave now. If you don’t, I’ll have no choice but to call the Guards.’
He said something that Kitty didn’t catch. Then the front door opened and slammed shut and Mr Ryan was gone.
‘Kitty?’
‘I’m in my room.’
The whisper of voices followed by the creaking of the stairs as her mother came up to see her.
‘You didn’t let him in,’ Mum said, coming into the room without knocking and standing over the bed. ‘Good girl.’
‘He deserves to know the truth,’ Kitty said.
‘And what’s the truth? That you killed his daughter? You’ll go to prison, Kitty. Is that what you want?’
‘It’s not me you’re worried about.’
Mum leaned down, her face so close Kitty could smell coffee on her breath. Resisting the urge to draw back, Kitty stayed still, waiting.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You don’t care about me,’ Kitty said. ‘All you care about is making sure no one knows what was going on in the house that night.’
She didn’t see her mother’s hand until it hit her. A slap across the side of her face that knocked her head sideways and left a ringing sound inside her head so that when Mum started speaking again, Kitty had to struggle to hear the words.
‘You need to watch your mouth, young lady. You have no idea the amount of trouble you’re in. Your father and I, we’re doing everything we can to protect you, but you don’t make it easy for us. You’re lucky you didn’t end up dead that night as well. If you tell anyone – and I mean anyone – what happened that night, you are putting all of us in danger. Think about that. It’s not just your own life that’s at risk anymore.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The men who were at the house that night are very powerful. If you speak to the Guards, two things will happen: one, you will be arrested and sent to prison for pushing your friend in front of a car; and two, our family will be punished.’
‘You’re lying!’ The words burst out of her mouth before she could stop them. She jumped off the bed and faced up to her mother, rage making her reckless.
‘You don’t care about me or Emer or Dad or what happens to us. You only care about him. Does Dad know about the two of you? No. Of course he doesn’t. Well maybe it’s about time he knew the truth.’
‘That’s enough.’
She hadn’t heard him, hadn’t even realised he was here in the house. But now he was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, blocking out all the light from the corridor. Bigger and wider than her father, and stronger. The bruises on her arms were proof of just how strong he was.
‘Can I speak to her for a moment, Ursula?’
Kitty looked at her mother, eyes begging her not to leave. But Mum ignored her, just like she always did. And then her mother was gone and the bedroom door was closing and he was walking towards her.
She screamed, as loudly as she could, and when he reached out to grab her, she tried to dodge past him. But she wasn’t fast enough. His hand wrapped around her arm and his other hand wrapped around her neck. And when he leaned his face close to hers and started telling her what would happen to Emer if Kitty ever spoke to the Guards, she lost control of her bladder and the rush of urine on the inside of her legs was the last thing she remembered before she passed out.
Forty
Dee had promised Ed she would stay away from Annie Holden. But even as she’d made the promise, Dee knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it. The memory of that note in the hallway of the empty house had stuck in her head. Which was why, a few hours after Ed left, she got in her car and drove back to Alfriston.
As she approached the house, she noticed a silver Lexus parked on the road a few metres from the entrance. She drove past it and parked further along, beyond the next curve in the road, so her car couldn’t be seen from the entrance to the house. Walking back, she looked inside the Lexus, trying to work out why someone would park all the way out here. Apart from a few houses, all with their own driveways, there was nothing here except miles of rolling green fields. She supposed someone might park there if they’d driven out here for a walk. Although, Dee knew there were plenty of better places to park if you fancied a walk on the downs near Alfriston.
It
was a hire car. A sticker with the name of the hire company was on the back window. There was no one inside the car. Dee looked up and down the road, but she was the only person here. Peering through the driver’s window, there was nothing inside the car to give any indication of who had driven it here.
It was possible, she supposed, that the person driving the car was visiting one of the other houses along this stretch of road. Possible, but unlikely. The most logical explanation was that the driver of the silver Lexus had done the same thing she was doing now – parking a few metres along the road from Fiona Holden’s house so she could approach the house without anyone inside knowing about it.
At the entrance to the driveway, Dee paused, checking the house and the garden for any sign there was someone else here. But everything seemed unchanged from earlier today.
This time, she’d brought a wire coat hanger with her. She hoped it would be the perfect tool for reaching inside the letterbox and retrieving the note. She’d unwound the hanger before leaving her house. Clutching it now, she approached the front door and rang the bell.
When no one answered, she crouched down, just as she’d done earlier, and peered through the letterbox. But the tiled floor was bare. The piece of paper, with Annie’s name handwritten across the front of it, was gone.
‘Who’s taken it?’
Dee looked at the wire coat hanger in her hand, as if it might have the answer.
‘Damn it.’
She straightened up and was considering what to do next when a voice behind her made her jump.
‘There’s no one at home.’
Turning around, Dee found herself face to face with a man about ten years older than her. His accent, she’d already noted, was Irish. His face was familiar, although it wasn’t until he stretched out his hand and introduced himself that she realised she recognised him from the photos she’d seen of him on the internet.
‘Robert O’Brien. I’m here looking for my stepdaughter, Emer Doran. Don’t suppose you’ve any idea where I could find her?’
‘What makes you think she’s here?’ Dee asked, ignoring the outstretched hand. Quickly, she ran back over the bits of information she’d gathered about Emer’s stepfather. Squeaky Clean O’Brien, the small-town politician with big aspirations and left-leaning views that matched the mood of twenty-first century Ireland. The man Shay Flaherty hadn’t been able to find anything bad to write about.
According to Emer, Robert was the person who’d sent someone to contact Dee pretending to be Emer. Which is why, right now, she wasn’t inclined to shake his hand. After a moment, he let his hand drop back down and shrugged.
‘I’m trying everywhere I can think of,’ he said. ‘Her mother is worried sick about her. We both are. Emer’s never been the most stable person, you see. She watched her sister drown in the sea when she was a young girl. The experience traumatised her. She should have had counselling, of course. But in those days… well, let’s just say I’m glad people are a bit more open-minded about that sort of thing today. Sorry.’ He gave Dee a sheepish smile that she bet worked a treat with his constituents. ‘I’m talking too much. A terrible habit, but one you fall into easily in my line of work. I’m a politician, you see. We all talk too much. We’re constantly trying to argue for something or another. Turns us into fierce chatterboxes, altogether.’
He held his hands up and took a step back, away from her.
‘I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing. If you do know Emer, would you just tell her to give us a ring and let us know she’s okay.’
‘Hang on,’ Dee said, as he turned to go. ‘You still haven’t told me why you think Emer might be here.’
‘You’re right.’ He smiled. ‘And you still haven’t told me your name or whether or not you know where she is.’
‘Emer’s my cousin.’ Dee didn’t see why she should give him any other information about herself. ‘She came to see me a few days ago, when she first arrived in England. But I haven’t seen her since yesterday. I really don’t know where she is.’
‘Cousin?’ He sounded surprised. ‘My word. You must be Dee – Frank’s daughter. Is that right?’ He was smiling properly now, a big happy grin that made it difficult not to smile back. ‘Your dad and myself were great pals at one time. We lost touch over the years, but I have so many happy memories from before he left. I was terrible sorry when I heard he’d passed away. He was a grand fella, old Frank.’
When she’d first seen him, Dee had thought Robert was in his sixties. But if he was friends with her father then he was in his early seventies, at least. She tried to remember if any of the articles online mentioned his age, but nothing came to her. Maybe he was lucky and was one of those people who never looked their age.
‘He was indeed grand,’ she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Robert nodded.
‘A lot better than that brother of his, I can tell you. Do you know Eamon, at all? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. They had a serious falling out, those two. All Eamon’s fault, of course. He stole from your grandparents. Conned them out of a huge amount of money. They lost their home because of it. They lost everything. It was your father who looked after them, you know. Eamon was a walking disaster, so he was.
‘Truth be told, it was a relief for Ursula when Eamon finally left. He made her life a misery. I never blamed your dad for cutting him out of his life. Eamon was like a cancer, destroying everything he touched. Ah, I’m sorry. He’s still your uncle, isn’t he? I should have kept my big mouth shut.’
‘No.’ Dee shook her head. ‘It’s okay. My dad never spoke about the row with Eamon, but my mother told me the bare bones of it. I just think it’s sad, that’s all.’
Robert nodded.
‘You’re right there, Dee. It’s very sad indeed.’
‘What makes you think Emer could be here?’ Dee asked, recognising she was being schmoozed by a man who clearly knew a thing or two about schmoozing.
He paused, as if he was weighing up how much to tell her.
‘You said Emer got in touch with you a few days ago,’ he said eventually.
‘That’s right.’
‘And if you’re here, I assume she told you that she believes the daughter of the people who live here is her dead sister? Well, it’s like I already said, Emer has problems. Mental health problems. Her sister, Kitty, drowned when Emer was a child and she’s never got over it. She hasn’t ever been able to accept that Kitty’s dead. It’s not the first time something like this has happened. She’s probably not told you that, but there’s a pattern to this.
‘She sees some stranger and convinces herself the person is Kitty. Then she spends the next few months throwing herself heart and soul into proving that person is her dead sister. Every time, of course, it turns out the person really is who they say they are. And, after a bit, Emer gets over it and moves on. Until the next time.’
‘You really think that’s what’s happening here?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Robert said. ‘Listen, Dee. When she started up this time, I intervened early. I hired a private detective to investigate the woman thoroughly. Turns out Annie Holden is exactly who she says she is. No surprise there. When I told Emer, I thought she believed me. In fact, I’m pretty sure she did until you called the other night and stirred it all up for her again. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but it was a bit irresponsible of you. Her mental health is very fragile, and I think this has tipped her over the edge completely.’
Ursula had said something similar about her daughter. Dee wondered why her and Robert were both so keen to portray Emer as someone with mental health problems.
‘She seemed pretty strong to me,’ Dee said, ‘especially considering everything she’s been through.’
‘She’s good at pretending when she wants to be,’ Robert said. ‘But this woman, Annie, she’s not Kitty.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘She’s the niece of the couple who adopted her. Her paren
ts died in a car crash when she was eleven. There’s a whole police report on the crash. Fiona and Michael adopted her through the proper channels. I’m happy to share everything with you if you’d like. Although I’ve just remembered – you’re a journalist, aren’t you? You’re not planning to write about any of this, are you?’
Dee’s head was spinning. She had lots of questions she wanted to ask, but he was already speaking again.
‘Emer’s a very mixed up young woman. That’s why I’m so desperate to find her. I’m worried she’s unstable enough to do something stupid.’
Dee didn’t reply, uncomfortable with his insistence on emphasising Emer’s mental health problems. The Emer Dee had met didn’t show any signs of being unstable or at risk of doing something stupid.
Robert frowned.
‘Sorry if you think I’m being indiscreet. I’m worried about her, that’s all. She’s put us through a lot these last few years. It’s hard to start trusting her again. I’ll tell you what, Dee. Can I give you my number, at least? If she gets in touch, maybe you could let me know she’s okay? I know I’m not her real dad, but I love that girl as if she was my own child. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to her.’
‘Of course,’ Dee said, after a moment. Because how could she refuse? She thought of Jake and the time he’d disappeared last year. The terror she’d felt not knowing whether he was okay or not. She wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.
‘Thanks so much, Dee. I’ve booked into Dean’s Place for the night. If I can’t find Emer by tomorrow I’ll have to go back home. I really hope it won’t come to that.’
Dee knew Dean’s Place. She’d been to several weddings and other events at the hotel on the other side of Alfriston. She put Robert’s number into her phone and sent him a text, so he’d have her number as well. She promised she’d be in touch if she had any news about Emer.
Before You Were Gone Page 23