The Perfect Stepmother

by King, Karen

  Had she been brought here and left to die? Fear swept over her again, suffocating her. She closed her eyes, took as deep a breath as she could with the gag lodged in her mouth and forced herself to focus, to think of a way out. Whoever had kidnapped her had done it for a reason, so surely they would come back at some point, if only to let her know who they were and why they had done this.

  Her head hurt so much and she felt sick, empty. How long had she been here? She tried to clear her mind, to remember what had happened. She’d been sitting in the car when the door had been yanked open; she remembered briefly seeing someone dressed in black, with a balaclava over their head, then being dragged out of the car and feeling a blow to the back of her head. She couldn’t remember anything else. She had no idea if her attacker had driven Maria’s car here, or if they had carried her unconscious to their car. Or even dragged or carried her to wherever she was. Perhaps she was close to where she’d been attacked. She knew that Alicia’s family had moved away – her parole officer had told her that – but she had no idea where they had gone. Had she unwittingly moved to the same area as them?

  Whoever had kidnapped her would come back at some point, Maria was sure of it. She didn’t want to think what her kidnapper, whoever they were, intended to do to her. She couldn’t afford to panic. She had to get free, to help Emma.

  She flinched as she heard a scuffle and something brushed against her leg. A rat? A terrified, roaring scream formed deep in her stomach, travelling up to her throat to come out as just an incoherent mumble as she felt the creature scramble onto her legs, felt its little feet running across her jeans. Her whole body was trembling. Count backwards, she told herself. Calm yourself down. One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight. By the time she got to fifty her panic had eased and she could no longer feel anything crawling over her. It must have gone.

  It won’t hurt you, whatever it is. Keep still and listen.

  She couldn’t hear anything. See anything. She could get no sense of where she was but she sensed that she was alone. Or if someone was in here with her, they were unconscious. Or dead. Her chest tightened at the thought.

  Emma.

  Don’t think about it. Stay calm.

  She wriggled forward a bit, relieved to discover that her hands weren’t tied to anything. If she could edge herself towards that chink of light, she would be able to see clearer, find something she could use to free her hands then untie her gag and get out of here.

  She hesitated, wondering whether to roll over and try to get to her feet but decided it would be easier to shuffle on her bottom.

  Her senses on high alert, she shuffled across the floor, glad that she was wearing jeans. It was a slow, excruciating process, her eyes desperately seeking shadows, shapes. Something scuttled over her legs again and her stomach lurched. What if it scrambled up her body and ran across her face? What if it bit her?

  Focus on what’s happening not what could happen. That’s what Sue had told her when Maria had first been admitted to prison, a bag of nerves, frightened by everything she saw and heard. Sue had taken her under her wing, helped her, protected her, believed her when she’d said that it was an accident and she had never meant to push Alicia. Sue had saved her life and her sanity.

  And now Maria had to do everything in her power to save Emma.

  Her mouth was dry, her throat sore. She needed water. She stilled the panic again, taking slow breaths to steady her heart rate. Was Emma bound and gagged too?

  Her worry for her little stepdaughter spurred her on. She continued shuffling across the floor then her hand hit something sharp. She felt a sear of pain and stickiness. Blood. She’d cut herself. She stilled, her mind racing. There was something sharp behind her, sharp enough to draw blood. Could she use it to sever the ties around her wrists? It had cut the back of her hand, just below whatever was binding her. Perhaps if she held her arms out as wide as she could and raised her hands slightly, she could stretch the binding enough to slit it. She had to be very careful not to slash her hands to shreds. Or cut into a vein. She could bleed to death and then she’d be of no use to Emma. She closed her eyes as she thought of the little girl, tied up, frightened. Or worse.

  Focus on the here and now. She had to get free for both their sakes.

  She stretched her shoulders back as much as her tight restraints would allow and raised her hands very slowly behind her back, gasping as she felt something sharp touch her right thumb. Careful. She moved her hands slightly, slowly, slowly until she couldn’t feel the sharpness on them, hoping it was now on the binding. Trying to flex her wrists to stretch the binding, she gingerly moved her hands up and down. She could feel something cutting into whatever was binding her. It was slackening! Her relief died as she felt a stab below the base of her thumb. She’d caught her hand again.

  She froze as she heard footsteps outside. Her kidnapper was coming back! There was a screech as the door was yanked open, letting in a flood of light which made her momentarily close her eyes.

  ‘So you’re conscious then? And you’ve moved. What were you planning on doing? Opening the door and running away?’

  It was a man. She opened her eyes as he laughed, a bitter, sinister laugh that sent a shiver all through her body. She tried to focus on the figure in front of her. There was something vaguely familiar about him. She kept her eyes on his face, and as he got nearer she recognised him.

  56

  Maria

  Al! Amanda’s new boyfriend. Maria stared at him in bewilderment. Why had he brought her here? What did he want with her?

  ‘You don’t recognise me, do you, Stefanie?’ he sneered.

  Stefanie! He knew who she was. Who the hell was he? Still aware of the stinging in her hand and the dampness running down her bound wrists, Maria stared at his face uncomprehendingly.

  He walked over and crouched down so that he was eye-level with her. ‘Take a good look. Are you sure you don’t recognise me? Because I’ll never forget you. I was sure it was you when I saw your photo in that article even though you’ve changed your name and dyed your hair. That’s why I came to check you out at the salon. You could have fucking plastic surgery and I’d still recognise you.’ His eyes darkened and he moved his face closer, so that they were almost eyeball to eyeball. ‘I see your face when I try to sleep at night, and I see your hands pushing my little sister down the stairs. You think you can wipe it all out with your new “do-gooder” image, your rich husband and beautiful little daughter, your bloody perfect life. Well, you can’t. Because you fucking killed my little sister and destroyed my family. And I’ll never forgive you.’

  Simon?

  She pulled her head back and stared at him, looking for some sign of the young boy who she used to babysit, the boy whose false accusation had sent her to prison. There was none. She would never have recognised him. Yet he had recognised her, despite the twenty-two years that had passed and the black dye in her hair. She remembered Amanda saying Al had seen her in a bar and came over to introduce himself, on the very evening the article was printed. He’d recognised her and deliberately targeted Amanda – photos of the salon staff had been in the article too. He’d even come to the salon to make sure it was Maria. That’s why he’d made that strange comment about her free cancer treatment being ‘payback’. She wished she had never agreed to do that newspaper interview. God, all these years she’d built a new life for herself and managed to keep her head down, thought she had left her past behind. And now, a few months after marrying Gareth, it had caught up with her. And all because of a stupid bit of publicity.

  ‘I guess I’ve changed a lot – not much left of that innocent little boy who used to play astronauts with his younger sister. Grief does that to you. And hate. I fucking hate you so much. When you killed Alicia I vowed one day I would find you and make you pay for it.’

  He looked so angry, his face contorted in such fury, that Maria’s blood turned to ice. Had he kidnapped Emma so that Maria would come looking for her and he could get
revenge for his sister? If only she wasn’t gagged and could talk to him, tell him how sorry she was, convince him that she hadn’t deliberately pushed Alicia down the stairs…

  ‘My dad took his own life after you were sent to prison. I think he kept going just to see you get justice, then he couldn’t cope with the grief any longer. Except it wasn’t justice, was it?’ He jabbed a finger in her chest and she winced. ‘You were out in ten years and look at you now, acting like a bloody angel while my family is still suffering. My mum went out of her mind with grief, she had a breakdown. I lost my whole family because of you. My sister murdered, my father dead, my mother locked up for years and all down to you.’ He’d got to his feet now and was pacing around. He turned back, pointing his finger at her threateningly. ‘You destroyed my family and now you’re destroying another one. Well, I’m fucking well not going to let you get away with it.’

  He couldn’t hate her any more than she hated herself. She pleaded with her eyes, trying to send the message to him that she wanted him to take the gag off so she could speak.

  ‘Well, have you got nothing to say?’ He glared at her and she nodded emphatically.

  Please take the gag off!

  He folded his arms, bitterness etched all over his face. ‘What do you want? To plead for your life? Well, don’t waste your time. You don’t bloody deserve to live. You’ve had more years than my little sister had. She only had five short precious years, thanks to you. And this little girl is the same age. You’re sick. Evil!’

  She shook her head again, trying to get the message across that it wasn’t what she wanted to say. She tried to force some words out but all she could do was make a grunting noise.

  Suddenly he nodded, as if he’d made up his mind. ‘Go on then. Let’s hear your pathetic attempts to save your life.’

  She waited, hardly daring to breathe as he strode over to her. He stood in front of her, eyes narrowed, staring at her. Is he going to change his mind? Then he bent down behind her and she felt his fingers working at the knot in the cloth he’d used to gag her. She had to make every word count. This was her only chance to save Emma.

  Finally the gag was off. She took in a big gulp of air as he stepped in front of her and folded his arms again, waiting for her to speak.

  ‘I promise you, Simon. I tripped,’ she rasped, her throat sore, her mouth aching. ‘Your toy cars were all over the landing. I ran after Alicia to stop her, yes, but I was going to pull her back not push her. I swear. I would have never hurt Alicia. It was an accident and it’s haunted me all my life.’

  ‘I don’t bloody believe you!’ he yelled, spit dripping down his chin. ‘You’re a liar and a murderer. And now you’ve done it again. You—’

  ‘Then don’t believe me. Punish me, kill me if that’s what you want. But please don’t punish an innocent little girl. Emma isn’t even my daughter. She is my stepdaughter. Please don’t harm her. Please let her go.’

  He glared at her. ‘What are you on about? I haven’t got your daughter.’

  ‘Stepdaughter,’ she corrected, wanting to emphasise that Emma wasn’t her blood. That point might save the little girl’s life. ‘Someone took her from our back garden yesterday afternoon. I thought it must be you.’

  Simon shook his head. She could see the confusion in his eyes. ‘Me? Do you think I’m sick or something? It’s you I want to punish, not a little kid.’

  ‘Who then? Someone sent me letters, and now Emma has gone.’ She was desperate.

  ‘I sent the bloody letters. It was easy enough to get your address out of Amanda and deliver them personally. I wanted you to know that I was watching you, that I knew who you were. Then she told me the little girl was missing so I came looking for you. I wasn’t going to let you get away with hurting another kid.’

  So that’s why he attacked me, he thought I had Emma. That another little girl’s life was in danger. ‘A woman came to the summer fayre and was staring at me. Then she came to the church fundraiser at the vicarage and gave Emma a doll. I’m sure it’s the same doll that Alicia had. I think she might have taken Emma.’ Then she remembered what Al had said. That his mum had had a breakdown. And Emma, she looked so similar to Alicia… ‘Do you think your mum might have taken her…?’

  ‘Are you bloody mad? Why would she do that? We’re not fucking evil like you, we don’t hurt little kids!’ He practically spat the words out then wiped the spittle off his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Anyway, Mum doesn’t know about you. We didn’t tell her because we don’t want her to have a relapse. She only came out of the psychiatric hospital a few weeks ago.’

  He was telling the truth. She was sure of it. She could feel the despair welling inside her. Who had kidnapped Emma?

  ‘Emma is five, like Alicia was, and she has long blonde hair. She looks a bit like Alicia. If your mum is mentally ill, she could think that Emma was Alicia…’ It made sense.

  Simon looked at her suspiciously. ‘Are you making this up so I’ll let you go free?’ he demanded.

  ‘No! I promise I’m not. Check the news on your phone. You’ll see a photo of Emma.’

  She could see the conflicting emotions on Simon’s face. He took his phone out of his pocket, slid a finger across the screen and started tapping.

  While he was preoccupied, Maria quickly glanced over her shoulder to see what the sharp object behind her back was – a saw. Glancing again at Simon, whose attention was still on his phone screen, she used her fingers to feel tentatively for the teeth of the saw then manoeuvred her hands so that the blade was on the now slackened rope. Trying to keep her face impassive, she moved her wrists up and down.

  ‘Fucking hell!’ Simon exploded. She saw the shock on his face, then he looked up from the screen. ‘You’re right. This little girl, she looks just like Alicia.’

  ‘I know.’ She tried to keep her tone calm although her pulse was racing. Could she get through to him in time? ‘Please, do you think your mum has taken her?’

  ‘Mum wouldn’t do something like that…’

  ‘Not to harm her, but she might have got confused, thought that Emma was Alicia. You said that your mum suffered a breakdown.’ She could feel the rope slackening. Her hands were almost free.

  ‘She wouldn’t!’ He didn’t sound very convinced though.

  They both jumped as his phone rang. His eyes shot to the screen then he slid his finger across to answer. ‘Mum?’

  Sarah? The shock made Maria lose her concentration and she felt the saw cut into her wrist. Ouch! She bit back the shriek that sprang to her lips and tried to pull her hands apart, relief flooding through her as the rope gave way. She was free. Goodness knows what state her wrists were in though. She had to pretend they were still tied for now, choose her moment. She would only get one chance to escape.

  Simon looked agitated. Maria could hear a woman’s voice but she couldn’t make out what she was saying.

  ‘What do you mean, goodbye?’ His voice rose in panic.

  Maria kept her eyes on his face, trying to gauge what was happening. She could see that it was serious. She strained her ears then her heart stopped beating as she heard the words. ‘I’ve called to say goodbye. I’m going to be with Alicia forever now, so there’s no need for you to worry about me any longer.’

  ‘Wait! Mum, don’t do anything stupid. I’m coming over!’

  The call ended. Simon looked ashen, his eyes darting to Maria’s face. ‘I’ve got to go. But I’ll be back.’

  ‘She’s got Emma, hasn’t she?’ She could see from Simon’s reaction that she’d guessed right.

  ‘Oh my God, what’s she planning? Why is she saying goodbye?’ She could hear the panic in her own voice. ‘Is she…?’ Simon’s wide eyes and drained face gave her the courage to say the words. ‘Is she planning to kill them both?’

  ‘It’s your fault! She lost her mind when she lost Alicia. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. This is on you!’

  57

  Maria

  Maria sc
rambled to her feet. ‘Where does your mum live? You need to call the police.’

  Surprise flitted across Simon’s face as he registered that Maria had managed to get free. ‘No, the police will freak Mum out and we don’t know that she’s got your kid, not for sure. I can be there in ten minutes.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ Maria shouted as Simon pulled open the shed door and raced out into what looked like an allotment plot. Now wonder it was so quiet, Maria thought as she sprinted after him. Fear for Emma giving her the strength to ignore the pain in her cut wrists, her aching legs and thumping head, she ran along the track towards a silver car parked on a piece of waste ground over to the right of the allotments. She pushed herself into an extra spurt as she saw Simon reach the car and pull open the door, worried that he might drive away without her.

  ‘Get a bloody move on!’ he shouted and she almost leapt the last few steps, yanking open the passenger door as the engine sprang to life. She grabbed her seatbelt and fastened it as he sped off.

  ‘Right, you leave the talking to me, okay?’ he said. ‘I’m only letting you come because of the kid.’

  ‘I will,’ she promised. ‘Please hurry or they could both be dead by the time we get there.’

  She could see the fear in his eyes, but he didn’t reply.

  Please let Emma be alive. Please, God, let us get there in time, Maria prayed silently, tapping her fingers on her wrist to try and calm herself down.

  ‘For Christ’s sake stop doing that. And stay in the hall when we get there until I call you. Understand? Seeing you could push Mum over the edge.’

  ‘I promise,’ she agreed although she had no intention of doing any such thing, but there was no point arguing with Simon now. She needed him to focus on his driving and get them to Sarah’s house in time. Her voice on the phone had sounded chillingly calm, she thought, and from what she had said to Simon, she was intending to kill both herself and Emma so that they would be together forever. The woman was unstable – grief had ruined her mind, and now she was convinced that Emma was her dead daughter. How was she intending to kill them both?