The Doll House

by Phoebe Morgan

  Erin looks up, as though remembering where she is, that Ashley is there. She reaches out, touches a hand to Ashley’s cheek. Her fingers are freezing. ‘It’s a relief to do this, Ashley,’ Erin says. ‘The last few months have been . . . tiring. Frustrating. Working with a load of stupid journalists isn’t exactly my idea of fun.’ She smirks. ‘Still, at least Lucy knows how to have a good time. That kid can be wild.’ She winks. ‘Your husband’s face was great when she got into my car. You’re lucky I’m a safe driver. Some people aren’t.’

  Ashley makes a sudden movement, tries to wriggle out of Erin’s grasp. In an instant, the knife is pressed against her cheek and she stops, lies still.

  Erin laughs. ‘I wouldn’t struggle if I were you. Your sister buys quality kitchen knives. Good and sharp.’

  Ashley has no idea what Erin is talking about. Her head is in so much pain, her hair held taut. She cannot think of anything to say, is desperately thinking of an escape route, how to protect Holly. How can she stop this? How can she make Erin stop?

  ‘You’re not very strict with Lucy, are you?’ Erin says. ‘You want to be careful, Ashley. Young when you had her, weren’t you? Around my age, I used to think.’

  Ashley’s head is spinning. Perhaps she should keep her talking. Perhaps someone will come by. She sucks in her breath, tries to speak.

  ‘Erin,’ she says, her breath coming out in a hoarse whisper. ‘Erin.’

  Erin loosens her grip on Ashley’s hair, ever so slightly.

  ‘How did you . . . How did you do this? How did you know about us?’

  Erin smiles. ‘I’ve always known. It’s something we’ve been working on for a while, Mummy and I.’ She looks down at the headstone. ‘Ever since Dad died, really. I thought it was time. Enough waiting. I wanted to show you. You’ve spent long enough playing happy families, don’t you think?’

  Ashley nods mutely. She cannot take her eyes off the silver of the blade. Her eyes dart between it and the bundle that is her daughter, lying prone in the graveyard under the blue blanket. Is there any blood?

  ‘So I set it up,’ Erin says. ‘I got the job at the Herald with Dom, let the paper do a write-up on our old house to keep everyone quiet. It’s not like we ever got to live there once your father finished with us, he made sure of that. We had no money. But you’d be surprised how many doors the de Bonnier name can open, even when the money’s gone.’ She pauses.

  ‘After that it was easy. You’ve got better taste in men than your sister, Ashley, that’s for sure!’

  She grins, loosens her grip on Ashley a little bit more. Ashley shifts slightly. She is still on the ground, Erin crouched over her. Her legs are beginning to go numb.

  ‘I stole Dominic’s keys,’ Erin says, ‘so I could get into their flat. That was the fun part, messing with Corinne. None of you believed her!’

  She chuckles, flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. It glistens in the moonlight. ‘I wanted to play around a bit, you see. Have some fun of my own. Games are different when you’re older, aren’t they? And I never had dolls.’

  She smiles widely.

  Ashley says nothing, does not meet Erin’s eye. She feels as though she is going to be sick. Let Holly be OK, she thinks to herself, just let Holly survive. I don’t care about myself.

  ‘But all good things must come to an end,’ Erin says. ‘It’s a shame really. I was hoping to find Corinne here tonight. You know she was his favourite?’ She widens her eyes at Ashley. ‘Dad loved her the most. It was obvious.’

  Ashley finds her voice. ‘What do you mean?’

  A flicker of something passes over Erin’s face.

  ‘I used to watch from the garden,’ she says. ‘I hid in the shadows, watched through the window. All through the years when she was at home, moping about the house without a boyfriend. Dad talked to Corinne for hours. Hours and hours. They used to play chess. And he made her that doll house, it was for her really.’ She pauses. ‘I was so jealous. It hurt so much.’

  Ashley’s body gives an involuntary shudder. Can this be true? Erin has been watching them her entire life?

  ‘It’s true,’ Erin says, as though she can read Ashley’s thoughts.

  ‘After I was born Dad turned me away. Mum took me to see him, she thinks I don’t remember, I was only six, but I do. He gave me a little navy coat. The only gift I ever got. But it didn’t work. It wasn’t enough to keep us away. He didn’t want to know about me. He already had his perfect family. He’d gone too far this time. Too much greed, too used to having his own way. But he messed up. He didn’t want us. He wanted you. Apparently.’

  There is a sudden shriek from above them, the call of a bird. Erin looks up suddenly, sees the darkness of the sky. Ashley watches her face harden, her lips tighten. Panic blooms in her chest.

  ‘Got to be careful of memories,’ Erin says, as she yanks Ashley’s hair and lifts back her other hand. ‘They’re dangerous.’

  Her dad’s headstone is very close now, she can see tiny blemishes in the stone, what look like black specks of paint hidden in the grey.

  Ashley thinks then of her children, pictures Lucy sitting at home, Benji drawing endless solar systems on the kitchen table. James must have realised Holly isn’t at June’s, she hopes he has had the sense to ring the police. She imagines his panic, just after his good news at work, and tears spring to her eyes. She can taste blood on the inside of her mouth.

  The last thing Ashley sees before Erin grabs her head is her dad’s name, engraved on the stone. Architect. Her forehead slams into the gravestone. Husband. Blood drips down her forehead. Father. Her vision begins to blur.

  ‘This is for my mother,’ Erin shouts. And then it is dark.

  56

  27 March 2017

  The day of the anniversary

  London

  Dominic

  ‘Knew what?’ Dominic asks. ‘You knew who she was?’ He glances at the dashboard, at the judder of the speedometer stick. Faster, faster. Still no word back from the police.

  ‘I knew she was his. I knew she was Richard’s daughter. It was when she looked at me, I saw it in her eyes. She has his eyes, Dominic.’

  He swerves, hears the beep of a horn beside him. He is slipping over towards the central reservation. He takes a deep breath, straightens up the car, shifts to fifth gear and presses his foot down towards the floor.

  ‘He – Richard had an affair?’

  Slowly, Mathilde shifts herself upwards to a sitting position, he sees her wince in pain, her features caught in the headlights of the surrounding cars that fly past them.

  ‘It was so long ago, now, just over twenty-five years. The children were little. They loved their father so very, very much. And so did I. Lord, I thought the sun rose and set on that man. For the most part, anyway. He was so clever, Dominic, so good at making you feel like the only person in the room. When he shone his light on you, it was like no one else mattered.’

  Dominic thinks of Richard holding court at the dinner table, of his voice echoing through the house. Always ready with a smile, a laugh. What really lay beneath all that?

  ‘But it was that house,’ Mathilde said. ‘When he started working at Carlington, everything changed. He hid it well, Ashley and Corinne never noticed. They never knew a thing, he never admitted it, you see. Never came clean.’

  She pauses. Dominic doesn’t speak, can focus only on keeping his eyes on the road and his mind on her words.

  ‘But I saw them once,’ Mathilde says. ‘He and June de Bonnier. I saw her when I came to Carlington, I’d come to find Richard. It was Ashley, she’d been sent home from school for something, I forget what, and I needed him to come home. So I went to the house, and I saw that woman.’

  Her teeth start clacking together, she is shivering despite the warmth of the car. Dominic’s mind is running backwards, remembering the day at Carlington House. June de Bonnier, leaning on his car, taking tablets from the little packet in her hand. Her words come back to him with a jolt.
This house nearly ruined me.

  Mathilde is still talking. ‘He denied it, of course. Straight away. And I never saw enough, I never had proof. It was just a glimpse as I walked across that lawn, they were up against the wall of the house. But he said I was wrong, that nothing was happening. And I was too far away, I could never be sure. So I turned the other way.’ Her voice breaks. ‘As long as he came home, I looked the other way to protect my girls.’

  ‘And you knew about Erin?’

  There’s a silence in the car. Dominic twists his head quickly to look at her and sees the glimmer of tears on her face, shining down her cheeks.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mathilde . . .’ he starts, but she shakes her head.

  ‘No,’ she says softly, ‘I didn’t know about any child. Not until I saw her. When I saw her today I knew. She could never be anything other than Richard’s. Those eyes . . . I can’t believe he covered it all up.’ She puts a hand to her eyes. ‘We weren’t enough for him, me and the girls. It was always more, more, more. More money, more success, more validation from the outside world.’

  Dominic glances at the clock, flicks his indicator to overtake again. His phone stays resolutely silent. Where are the police?

  ‘I think he might have left me,’ Mathilde says, and her voice changes slightly, takes on a tone of almost wonderment. ‘I think he might have done it for her. For June. I think he might have loved her. Either that or he just liked the challenge. He always did crave those.’

  Dominic shakes his head. She sounds as though she is talking partly to herself, is lost somewhere deep inside her mind.

  Mathilde is leaning forward. ‘But he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t leave his girls. He wouldn’t leave our babies. So instead he left her, and Erin, and now—’ She suddenly lets out a sob, puts a hand to her mouth.

  ‘Oh God,’ she says. ‘Oh God, Dominic. I need to get to my children.’

  ‘I know that!’ Dominic says, and he pushes his foot even lower on the floor, swears as another driver comes too close on the right of the car. He is driving way over the speed limit, as fast as he can. They are on the outskirts of North London now; they are almost there. The cemetery is the best place to start looking.

  ‘I feel so guilty,’ Mathilde says suddenly.

  ‘Guilty?’

  ‘I knew who June was. I saw her, once more, not long ago in London. It was the night I came for dinner with Corinne. I recognised her instantly, she was outside the restaurant. Gave me the shock of my life. I should have said something, I should have told Corinne, but I didn’t, I just went home. Perhaps if I hadn’t been such a coward . . .’ She trails off. ‘I had no idea about Erin, but if I’d known.’ She stops. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if I’d known.’

  ‘You couldn’t have known!’

  ‘I never wanted the girls to know,’ Mathilde whispers. ‘I never wanted them to find out what kind of man their father really was. They loved him so much. That’s why I never told them, held it together.’

  Dominic exhales. ‘And then he died,’ he says.

  Mathilde nods. ‘And then he died. And I thought it would be a secret, something I would just hold on to, and actually I was relieved because I’d done it, I’d given them the very best idea of their daddy that a pair of girls could have.’

  She takes a deep breath, wipes her eyes with her hand. ‘Not that he deserved it. He left me with a mountain of debt, Dominic. I had to sell off a lot of his things, including the girls’ doll house. It broke my heart every time Corinne asked about it but I could never tell her what had happened.’

  Dominic frowns. ‘You sold the doll house?’

  She nods. ‘Some man made me a huge offer, said he was a collector. I had no choice. I felt terrible lying to her, but I was terrified of her finding out about how much trouble Richard had got us into. It’s shameful, I know it is, but . . . I had no choice, Dominic.’

  Dominic runs a hand through his hair. Could Erin have the doll house too? Is there any point telling Mathilde about the little parts of it Corinne has found? It will only scare her more. He thinks to himself how planned this whole thing must have been, how chillingly thought out. Erin’s behaviour is psychotic – the pretence, the lies, all of it. How could he have been so stupid?

  They are almost in Hampstead; they are getting very close. Dominic sees the tail of headlights as they round the bend and feels dread sink into his stomach. He changes gear, feels his hand slip with sweat on the stick.

  Mathilde gives a moan as she sees the traffic. Behind them, a car horn sounds. The air in the car feels tight and stale. All Dominic wants is to reach Corinne, feel the warmth of her, trap their baby between them. The lights of the vehicle in front of him seem unreasonably close; there is another line of cars snaking out before him like a ladder. Reluctantly, he moves the car into third gear, second, first, his foot lowering to the floor as he squeezes the brake pad. The clock on the dashboard flips over, the red lines watching them both like slitted eyes. Mathilde looks at him, and her question sends an icy dagger of fear straight into Dominic’s heart.

  ‘What if we’re too late?’

  57

  27 March 2017

  The day of the anniversary

  London

  Corinne

  I’m late to meet Ashley. We had a rush of customers right at the end of the day, and Marjorie was getting stressed out. Normally, I’d just leave but I felt bad. She’d been so lovely to me about the baby. So I stayed, helped her cash up, then ran to the Tube, taking the alleyway between the banks. I haven’t got the flowers – by the time I left the guy with his stall had packed up and gone home. It’s colder now, I’ve had to put my coat back on. I shook it out again before I left, turned out the pockets in case there was any more glass lurking inside. I tried to ring Dom but it just went to voicemail; I don’t know where he is, I hope he’s with Mum. I wanted to tell him how kind Marjorie had been too, how unexpected her reaction was.

  I get on the tube north towards West Hampstead Station. I manage to get a seat and try to relax, ignore the jolts of the carriage as it trundles along the tracks. It’s no quieter than this morning, and as we go further, the train becomes even more packed, so that by the time it pulls into the station I am completely surrounded. I feel a little bit sick but at least I’m on the way now, I’ll meet Ashley and Mum at the graveyard and we’ll go have a nice dinner together. I hope they’re not annoyed that I’m late. Maybe it’s been good for Ash to sit with Dad on her own for a bit, she never gets any time to herself. Always rushing around after the children.

  I step out of the Tube carriage, sling my bag over my shoulder. I’m down the wrong end, I turn and make my way down the long platform to where the escalators are, dodging around the crowds. As I look up I see a girl, waving at me, her blonde hair shining in the underground light as she cranes her neck to catch my eye. She’s wearing a fluorescent yellow scarf, it’s very bright, and she’s smiling, a big wide smile like she knows me. I stop, thrown, trying to remember how to place her. As I get closer it clicks: Dom’s work. Of course, it’s the girl who rescued me that awful day. It’s Erin.

  I groan inwardly. I haven’t got time to have a conversation now, I’m already so late. But she’s really smiling at me, as though she’s happy to run into me. She’s already moving towards me.

  ‘Corinne!’ she says, and I smile back at her, even though I want to get up the steps, feel terrible for keeping Ashley waiting. She was so kind to me though, I remember her sharing the gingerbread man, looking after me while I panicked and cried. I’ll have to be polite, just for two seconds. I behaved embarrassingly enough that day.

  ‘Erin,’ I say. ‘Hi, how are you? This is a coincidence.’

  ‘Is it?’ she says. I blink, wrong-footed. For a moment I think I’ve misheard her. I smile uncertainly. That’s when I notice her eyes; they are slightly off, there is something strange in her gaze.

  ‘Are you OK?’ I ask her. I wonder briefly if she might be a bit drunk. I take a s
tep backwards, glance at the exit tunnel, at the people going up into the fresh air.

  ‘There’s something I need to tell you, Corinne.’

  I stare at her. It can’t be what I’m thinking. He wouldn’t do that to me.

  ‘There’s no need to look so worried,’ she says, and I feel a flush of relief. I’m being ridiculous!

  ‘I’m in a rush, actually, Erin,’ I say, but she interrupts me, places her well-manicured fingers on my arm. I look down. There’s something red on the back of her hand.

  ‘Have you cut yourself?’ I say then, and that’s when she starts to laugh, a horrible, high-pitched laugh that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  ‘No, Corinne, I haven’t,’ she says, and she brings her face close to mine, so she’s looking right into my eyes. ‘But thank you for your concern.’ She says the last word sarcastically. She’s being very weird. What’s wrong with her?

  ‘I’ve got to get on, Erin, Dominic is waiting for me,’ I lie. I try to move past her, towards the escalator, but she steps quickly to the right, blocking my way.

  ‘Oh yes, Dominic,’ she says, nodding her head up and down, too fast. Her movements seem jerky now I’m up close to her, almost manic. She gives me another smile. ‘I’ve got pretty close to Dom recently – did he tell you? Friendly, if you know what I mean.’ She winks.

  I instantly feel sick.

  She raises her eyebrows, reaches out a hand towards my face as though she would cup it in her fingers. I flinch, back away from her hand. There’s definitely a smear of blood on it, wiped across the pale white skin. The sleeve of her black jacket rides up slightly, exposing her wrist. And that’s when I see it: a watch, far too big for her, circling her bone. The strap is navy and the face is a brown oval with tiny golden hands. I’d recognise that watch anywhere.