It’s not true, Emily. The truth is that only I planned to murder your dad, during those few seconds that I had the gun in my hand, when I realised that I could. I planned it alone, with no help from Flora. I made up the lie about the knife and him coming at me with it in his hand, I said what I wanted Lewis’s phone to record for the police to listen to later; I thought of all of it, the whole story and how it would play out, in those few seconds, while I clung to the gun with my trembling hands. All Flora did was corroborate.
Then I lied to Detective Steel. I didn’t aim for Lewis’s shoulder. I aimed for his head, and, even with my hand shaking violently, I must have aimed well. And maybe in a looser sense it was self-defence, but I’m never going to be able to think of it that way, knowing how much I wanted him dead, how deliberately I pointed the gun at the spot right between his eyes, willing the bullet through the air and into his warped brain.
And then I lied to Dom. And to Zannah and Ben. And I’ll never know their opinion of what I really did, whether they would praise me and say, ‘I’d have done the same’ or disapprove because I killed a man, deliberately, wanting him to die. Praying for it with every cell in my body, and feeling proud once it was done. That’s the truth, Emily.
‘Maybe they’ll change their minds one day,’ Dom says as we pull up outside turquoise-painted gates with a white sign on them: ‘Villa Agathi’. Flowers have been painted around the name. ‘If Kevin Cater and Yanina can overhear one conversation between Thomas and Emily and change their minds about everything after taking Lewis’s money for years …’
‘But how will Thomas and Emily Braid ever hear their younger siblings’ account of the things the horrible man from America used to say to Mummy when he appeared? Even if they did, they might not change their minds. They’re believing what they want and need to believe because they loved Lewis. They adored him.’
I don’t believe Kevin and Yanina truly changed their minds, but I don’t want to say so. Not now. I can’t prove it’s a lie, and I couldn’t bear to hear Dom stick up for them. I’ll never believe that they suddenly realised, after being unaware for years, that they were involved in something appalling, and took immediate steps to get the children to safety. They must have known, and tolerated it. Then I turned up, and they saw that they’d failed to convince me there was no cause for concern. Lewis’s instructions were becoming ever more alarming and bizarre – Yanina dressing in Flora’s clothes, Flora having to be flown out to Florida without the children – and then a policeman turned up asking questions, and Kevin and Yanina’s convenient, lucrative gig started to feel more risky.
Then, maybe, they overheard Thomas and Emily talking and discovered that Lewis’s treatment of Flora was a little bit worse than even they’d imagined. But I can’t believe they cared, at that point. If their worry for the children’s safety was genuine, surely they’d have bundled Emily into the car, gone to fetch Thomas from school and gone straight to the police or social services.
There’s something that doesn’t convince me about them ringing the school and handing in formal notice, cancelling Emily’s place. There was no need for them to do it, and it feels staged to me. Performative. So that they could claim, later, that they feared reprisals from Lewis to such an extent that they made a decision to take the children and flee to a different part of the country – which was what they did. Even if you did plan to escape, why think about giving notice to a school? Why not just go? Flora thinks they probably wanted to be upfront and end the relationship there and then, so that there would be no phone calls or enquiries the next day when Thomas didn’t turn up for registration in the morning. Perhaps that’s true. Flora will never ask Kevin or Yanina about it, or speak to them ever again, so there’s no way of knowing.
‘Are we here?’ Ben asks as Dom switches off the car’s engine. He stretches. ‘I’m tired.’ Tired or not, he’s out of the car in seconds; Dom too. It’s an old family joke: when we all drive home from somewhere, Dom and Ben are usually inside the house and halfway through watching a football match by the time Zan and I drag ourselves out of the car.
I turn and prod her leg. Her eyes snap open. She blinks.
‘We’re here,’ I tell her. ‘Sorry to wake you.’
‘You didn’t,’ she says, stuffing her phone and earphones into the bag on her lap. ‘I was thinking …’
‘Come on, you two,’ Dom calls out.
‘What?’ I ask Zannah.
She looks hesitant, then decides to go for it.
‘Maybe I could try talking to Thomas and Emily Braid. I think I could maybe … I don’t know. I don’t know what I could do, but I’d like to give it a go. I’m the same age as them.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘I don’t want you involved.’
‘And yet look where I am.’ Zan nods towards the villa.
Damn. Why is she so good at winning arguments?
‘They’d tell you horrible things about me, Zan. They’d call me a murderer. I don’t want you to have to deal with that.’
‘I can deal with whatever they say, Mum. Seriously.’ Looking out of the window, she adds casually, ‘I could also deal with you being a murderer as long you only ever have one victim and that victim is Lewis Braid.’
Does she know? Is that possible, even though I haven’t told her?
‘Shall I try and contact them, then?’ She smiles innocently at me.
She knows.
I’ve no idea how I feel about that. My daughter knows I lied. My daughter knows what I did in Florida.
‘Thomas and Emily Braid?’ I say, playing for time.
Zannah nods. ‘I won’t mention it to Flora now, in case it doesn’t work. I just … I reckon I could convince anyone that having a mother is a great thing, not to be missed,’ she says solemnly.
‘Okay. You can try, if you want to.’ My eyes prickle with tears. I blink them away.
‘Er … hello?’ Dom leans into the car. ‘Did we come here so that Ben and I could stare at a wall, or …’
As he’s speaking, the villa’s blue gates open and Flora appears, with Rosemary behind her. She waves at us. She’s smiling.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I am immensely grateful to the wonderful team at Hodder, especially Carolyn Mays – my dream editor and also, luckily for me, my real-life editor. Thanks to Peter Straus, the best agent in the world, and Matthew Turner, and all at Rogers, Coleridge & White. Thank you to my wonderful American publishers, William Morrow, and to my amazing film and TV agent, Will Peterson.
A huge thank you to Kate Jones and Faith Tilleray for all their practical help and support. Thank you to my family – Dan, Phoebe, Guy and Brewster, who get a thank you and a dedication this time. Thanks to Adele Geras and Chris Gribble for reading and commenting on an early version, and to Emily Winslow, whose editorial advice improved this novel immensely.
Special thanks to Chris Ferguson, from Twitter, who gave me some very useful information about youth divisions of football teams. Thank you to my Dream Author programme members who are just the best in every way! And last but not least, thanks to all my readers who write and send lovely messages all the time. Knowing that you’re eagerly awaiting the next book makes me want to write it even more.
Don’t miss out on Did You See Melody?, the stunning page turner from the Queen of Psychological Suspense
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Haven't They Grown Page 31