Remember Me: The gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist.

by Lynda Renham

Helen struggles with the vase. I have to keep Clare’s eyes on me.

  ‘I’m not making fucking deals with you,’ Clare scoffs.

  I watch Helen lift the vase with her right hand. Her left arm, red with blood, hangs limp at her side.

  ‘You’re nothing but a liar,’ Clare spits, pressing the knife into my throat.

  At that moment Helen releases a piercing scream and brings the vase down on to Clare’s head. The vase smashes, showering splinters of ceramic over me. Clare falls limp into my lap. I feel the blood seep through my dress and on to my legs.

  Helen falls to the floor beside me with a grunt. I turn to look at Clare’s face. Her eyes are wide and accusing. Even in death she is angry. I push her off my lap and turn to Helen.

  ‘Helen, stay with me,’ I beg.

  I rip the sleeve of Clare’s bathrobe and press it against Helen’s wound to stop the bleeding. She is pale and her eyes heavy.

  ‘Talk to me Helen,’ I say. ‘Don’t close your eyes.’

  Helen mumbles something and I feel her pockets for her phone. With trembling hands I call 999 while pressing against the stab wound. It seems like an eternity before I hear screaming of sirens and I cry with relief.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  When Tom arrives the street is cluttered with police cars and ambulances. I sit in a wheelchair cradling Nathan in my arms and watch without emotion as they bring out Clare’s lifeless body on a stretcher. The blow from the vase had cracked her skull.

  ‘I believed you,’ Helen had whispered before losing consciousness.

  ‘Will be she okay?’ I ask.

  ‘She will be fine,’ the paramedic smiles. ‘She’s lost a lot of blood but that’s all.’

  I watch Tom walk towards us, his face is haggard and his eyes are soft and wet.

  ‘Christ Sharn, I knew she was unbalanced but I never for one minute …’

  I look down at my clothes. I’m covered with blood and my hand and leg are bandaged. He sits beside me on the doorstep and I hand him Nathan.

  ‘I’m not looking my best,’ I say, making a feeble attempt at a joke.

  ‘You’ve looked better,’ he agrees, taking Nathan.

  ‘Say hello to your son,’ I say simply.

  A small tear drops on to his hand as he takes him.

  ‘My son,’ he says quietly.

  Nathan wraps his hand around Tom’s little finger.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asks, his eyes meeting mine.

  ‘Because you wouldn’t have believed me, just like you never believed me before,’ I say, trying to hide the bitterness from my voice.

  ‘You could have tried.’

  ‘I was afraid you’d stop me. That you’d stop me seeing him and I couldn’t bear that.’

  He cradles Nathan, stroking his tiny fingers.

  ‘Sharni, I’m …’

  ‘She lost her mind after her baby died. You remember, you said that to me, you said, “Women that lose babies like this sometimes lose their minds.”’

  ‘I’m so sorry Sharn, can you ever forgive me?’

  He lays his other hand in mine.

  ‘It’s just I don’t know that I can forgive,’ I say, wiping the tears from my eyes. ‘It’s been very hard Tom, finding Nathan all on my own. Fighting against all the people that didn’t believe me, and lying to you because I didn’t want you to treat me like a mental case.’

  He winces.

  ‘Sharni, I’m so sorry. Perhaps it was easier for me to deal with the fact that he’d gone rather than having to think someone had taken him …’

  ‘But someone did take him and I nearly died getting him back.’

  He wipes tears from his cheeks.

  ‘I just don’t understand how you could have given up on him like you did,’ I say.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I’m going home to the cottage. That’s where I belong. I belong by the Lakes. You belong here in London.’

  I can return to the cottage now I have Nathan. Everything is complete again. Finally I can go home. He doesn’t attempt to argue.

  ‘Will I see you?’ he asks.

  ‘I hope so. We’ll want to see you. I’ll stay a bit longer. I want to make sure Helen is okay.’

  ‘I want to make this up to you. I know it’s a huge thing to ask but will you let me try?’

  I nod.

  ‘I can’t stay in London,’ I say.

  He holds out his hand and I take it gratefully.

  ‘You need to get checked over at the hospital. Come on.’

  ‘I wonder if Chris knows,’ I say with a shiver.

  ‘Let’s go,’ says a paramedic. He pushes me on to the ambulance tail lift. I look back at the house one last time before closing my eyes.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  I take the lemonade into the garden. The sun is hot and I lift my face to it. Nathan toddles towards me, clapping his hands with pleasure.

  ‘This is your favourite isn’t it?’ I laugh.

  He’d forgotten the pendant and the comfort blanket. I like to think he’s forgotten Clare but I don’t suppose he has. I tell myself it is just time before I get my child back completely. I still have nightmares about that night. Clare’s wide, mad eyes haunting me.

  I place the tray on to the patio table and pour the lemonade into glasses.

  ‘Here,’ I say.

  Helen takes a glass. ‘It’s heaven here,’ she says, stretching out on a sunlounger.

  ‘It certainly is.’

  ‘I love that dress,’ she says nodding.

  ‘Oh this, it was just a cheapie.’

  I pull the lemon-coloured cardigan around the flowery chiffon dress and smile.

  ‘You must take me shopping sometime. You’ve got great taste.’

  A sense of déjà vu washes over me.

  ‘Sure,’ I say.

  ‘Thanks so much for inviting me. It’s the perfect place to chill in the summer break.’

  I nod.

  ‘How’s the arm?’

  ‘It’s still weak, but, you know, it will get better.’

  ‘How are things at school?’

  ‘Oh fine, you know, still the same little monsters,’ she smiles.

  Her face clouds over.

  ‘It was weird those first few weeks. You know, when we looked back we could see the signs were all there. We just weren’t aware of them at the time. I wish you’d said something.’

  ‘Would you have believed me?’

  ‘I guess not.’

  She turns at the faint sound of music.

  ‘Are they your neighbours?’ she asks.

  I glance at the holiday cottage where a young couple are sitting in the garden.

  ‘No,’ I say softly. ‘They’re holidaymakers. I never know who they are.’

  ‘I guess you’re very wary since …’

  I smile.

  ‘Still,’ she says innocently, ‘holidaymakers can’t do much harm can they?’