by John Marrs
She scrolled back through her phone, reliving the hundreds of conversations they’d had over the six months she’d known him before she came here. DNA Match or no DNA Match, she missed him terribly. There was no one else in the world who’d known her better than Kevin had.
Jade made her way back to the farmhouse where Susan and Dan were placing Tupperware boxes crammed full with sandwiches and salads in the rear passenger footwells.
‘Are you all set?’ Susan asked.
‘Pretty much.’
‘I’ve put a roadmap in the back with your route plotted out just in case technology lets you down,’ said Dan.
‘Thank you,’ Jade said, and leaned in to hug him.
‘No, thank you for everything,’ said Susan. ‘I know it’s not been easy, especially the last few week, but I’m glad we’re still friends. Now promise me one more thing, will you?’
‘Of course, what is it?’
‘Promise me you’ll look after my boy.’
‘Mum, I’ll be fine.’ Mark smiled and kissed her on the cheek, before throwing his rucksack across the back seat.
‘I promise,’ Jade said. ‘Neither of us are leaving this family any time soon.’
Chapter 99
NICK
Nick’s eyes fixed on the doorway as he waited for the undertakers to carry the coffin into the crematorium.
A song he’d chosen by Amy Winehouse played through the speakers, as the wicker coffin was placed on a table in front of the packed room and the minister took her position. Nick’s parents stood either side of him, each holding on to an arm as Sally came to a rest before them.
The coroner had released her body to the family eight days after her death and, although the inquest had been opened and adjourned, Nick had been informed off the record that a previously undetected aneurysm in Sally’s brain, the cause of many of her recent headaches, was likely to have been to blame.
Her sudden loss was a shock to Nick’s system, but it wasn’t the only one. Sally’s baby boy had been taken from her womb by emergency caesarean section as she died. He was alive, and his skin was as dark brown as his hair.
‘How many times did it happen?’
‘A few.’
‘How many is a few?’ Nick repeated, more firmly this time.
‘I don’t know, I didn’t count. Quite often though, I suppose.’
‘Was it just sex?’
‘No.’
‘What else was it then?’
‘She was my Match.’
‘What?’
‘We did the test and Sally was my DNA Match. At least, that’s what we thought.’
Nick stopped pacing the lounge and stared at Deepak. Baby Dylan slept close to his chest, his head resting on a towel draped across his shoulder.
It had been impossible for friends and family who’d visited Dylan to see anything but the difference between his dark skin compared to Sally and Nick’s chalky pallors. After the shock of Sally’s death, and the subsequent realisation that his son was not biologically his, something told Nick that the boy’s real father was close to home.
Shortly after, Sumaira and Deepak, recent parents themselves, arrived at the flat to offer their condolences and meet Dylan for the first time. The panicked look on Deepak’s face was enough to tell him what he had feared was true. They said little and didn’t stay for long. Nick later noted their absences at Sally’s funeral.
Now, Deepak perched stiffly on Nick’s sofa, his eyes bloodshot and underscored by dark bags.
‘So all those months ago, the night it all kicked off between Sally and me, I was right when I said you and Sumaira weren’t Matched?’
Deepak nodded. ‘We did the test after we got married, but Sumaira was too ashamed to admit it to anyone. You know how some people can look down on couples that aren’t Matched.’
‘But what makes you think Sally was your Match?’
‘Sumaira and I took the test a couple of years ago and found out we weren’t Matched. My email came and it was her. Sally. It turned out she worked with Sumaira – coincidence, huh? I wanted to meet her so eventually I made Sumaira arrange that night we all went out for Chinese …’
Nick nodded slowly. ‘That was the evening we had to leave early because Sal wasn’t feeling well.’
‘Yeah,’ Deepak laughed, but tears were still in his eyes. ‘We all had a lot to drink that night, didn’t we? I had a lot of beers, but I felt it: you know what I mean. It was as if all these lightbulbs had been turned on at the same time in my head.’
Nick did know what he meant. He tried not to think of that first day he met Alex. ‘She’d felt the same thing as you, hadn’t she?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you started sleeping together.’
‘No, not for a long time after that. We became friends on Facebook first, then we started Instant Messaging, and met for the occasional lunchtime coffee or dinner. But that wasn’t enough so gradually it escalated.’
Nick knew how hypocritical it was for him to feel animosity towards Sally for her lies, when his and Alex’s relationship had followed almost the exact same pattern, but still he found Deepak’s words hard to swallow.
‘She was going to leave you,’ Deepak added hesitantly. ‘And I was planning on leaving Sumaira. We’d spent too long going behind your backs and we wanted to be together out in the open. Then Sumaira got pregnant with the twins and I came to my senses. I knew I couldn’t just walk out on my wife. So I ended it with Sally. I don’t think Sally was too happy, but I was certain that I wanted to stay with Sumaira and I told her that. That’s when she booked those tickets to Bruges, to try and reconnect with you.’
Nick had known there was something off about Sally’s sudden desire to go away together. ‘Go on,’ he said to Deepak.
‘When Sally thought she might be pregnant, she started panicking because she didn’t know which one of us was the father. She was scared if she told you the truth you wouldn’t want to stick around and that you’d leave with Alex. She was so petrified of ending up a single mum.’
‘So she used me.’
‘I guess so.’
There was something that had been bugging Nick about Deepak’s story. ‘You chose Sumaira, and it sounds like Sally chose me. How the hell did you two deal with not being together? I know how powerful it feels when you meet your Match …’ It had been six months now since he’d last seen Alex and it was physically killing him to not be around him.
‘I don’t think we were actually Matched,’ Deepak admitted reluctantly. ‘I saw the news in the papers. I think we were one of those false Matches. It’s only when I look back on it that I realise after those initial few months of excitement, the spark gradually vanished and we became like every other couple cheating behind their partners’ backs. And even thinking back to that night we first met and the “explosions” people talk about, I think we were just drunk and got carried away with it. I’m really sorry, mate.’
Deepak’s apology was in earnest, but Nick couldn’t bring himself to accept it.
‘We both knew it, but because we thought we were Matched, we thought we had to stick together. In the end, all we had was an affair.’
‘There’s something else that’s been bothering me,’ Nick interrupted. ‘If Sally thought she was Matched with you, why did she want us to take the test?’
‘I think she wanted to give you an “out” … letting you go and be with your Match meant she wouldn’t have to break your heart and look like the bad guy when she left you. Instead, she’d be the victim in all of this. Then when you found out you were Matched with a bloke, it was just as much a shock for us as it was for you, and we never thought you’d want to meet him. She was surprised she managed to talk you into it.’
‘Well, I’m glad her plan to get rid of me went well for her,’ Nick said sarcastically.
‘Don’t be like that, mate. After all, it all turned out OK in the end, right?’
If by OK, he meant a dead fiancée, a child t
hat wasn’t his and his soulmate lost forever on the other side of the world, then, yeah, he was great, Nick thought bitterly.
The look on Deepak’s face showed that he realised the stupidity of his words. He looked down at the floor.
Nick was stunned by the lengths Sally had gone in her desperation. ‘I had no idea how manipulative she was,’ he muttered. ‘And what does Sumaira have to say about her husband fathering a child by her best friend? Your wife tends to have an opinion on most things.’
‘She’s gutted. She hasn’t kicked me out but she doesn’t want me to see Sally’s baby.’
‘What about you? What kind of future do you want with him?’ The task of raising the baby had fallen to Nick, and he loved him to the end of the world, but he did sometimes wonder if it was better for Dylan to be with his real father.
Deepak paused and looked away, but Nick held firm, desperately trying to disguise how concerned he was about the answer to come. He knew that many men would’ve discarded a child that wasn’t biologically a part of them, but Nick had sacrificed too much already to give up on Dylan. The delicate little boy who slept so peacefully in his arms had lost his mother even before his birth, and Nick would not allow him to lose the man who had hoped to be his father. He felt an overwhelming amount of love for his son, as he had come to think of him.
‘I don’t think the kid and I have any future together,’ Deepak eventually replied.
‘You don’t think, or you know for sure?’
‘I know for sure.’
‘Do you feel anything for him at all?’
‘No, and I’m not ashamed to admit it either. I’m sitting here looking at him and I don’t feel a thing. All I see is trouble and complications. I don’t even have an urge to hold him or cuddle him like I do with my girls. Even if Sumaira hadn’t rejected him, I still wouldn’t want him.’
Nick was disgusted by this admission. ‘You and Sally were better suited than you think. You both only care about yourselves.’
‘If you want him to stay with you, I’ll sign whatever papers you need me to sign to make it official.’ And, with that, Deepak rose to his feet and walked towards the front door. ‘Nick,’ he said, without turning around. ‘I really am sorry for everything, and I hope you believe me.’
Nick didn’t reply. When the door closed, he held his son tightly and planted a long, gentle kiss on his forehead.
Chapter 100
MANDY
‘We don’t think it’s the first time Pat’s taken a child that wasn’t hers,’ Lorraine said. ‘Neither Richard’s nor Chloe’s DNA results match each other’s or hers. They’re all unrelated.’
‘Could she have adopted them?’
‘We’ve checked European and American databases, and so far we can’t confirm that. Now we’re looking into cold cases of children reported missing around the time Richard and Chloe were born.’
‘Jesus.’ Mandy shook her head in disbelief and her heart sank at the thought of what could have happened had she not identified the Lake District holiday cottage in Richard’s photographs. She clutched her son a little closer to her chest, wondering how Richard and Chloe’s biological parents must have felt not knowing what had happened to their babies.
‘What’s going to happen to Chloe?’ she asked Lorraine, who sat opposite her. It was the first time they’d met face to face since Mandy’s baby had been rescued a week earlier.
‘She’s been charged with kidnapping a child, but as she has no previous convictions she’s been released on bail pending further inquiries. We predict her defence will plead insanity. But don’t worry, she has restrictions preventing her from going anywhere near you or your home. Pat is being held in a psychiatric unit following her overdose, but it’s going to take some time before we find out the full story.’
Mandy found it difficult to erase the image of the moment she saw her child for the first time. He was wrapped in a towel, held loosely by Pat, who was unconscious and surrounded by empty blister packs of tablets. Everything else slipped into slow motion as Lorraine held Mandy back, her flailing arms reaching to grab her child. He was scooped up instead by a paramedic, whisked to the safety of the landing and placed upon the floor, his towel removed and his body checked for any signs of injury. It was only when it was confirmed there were none that Mandy was permitted to hold him for the very first time.
She’d fallen to her knees when he was placed into her arms. She smelled his head and ran her fingers across his soft chest, and held him close to her body so that he could feel her heartbeat against his skin.
She didn’t notice the paramedics rush to Pat’s aid or watch as they turned her on to her side and shoved piping down her throat, forcing her to vomit. Every voice that spoke to Mandy was muffled because all she could hear was the delicate sound of her baby breathing.
‘There’s something else I should tell you that I’m not supposed to,’ continued Lorraine, ‘something that was discovered in Pat’s medical records. Apparently she has a history of psychotic episodes that doctors who treated her believe stemmed from multiple miscarriages and at least two stillbirths. At some point these episodes appear to have ceased, which match up to the time Richard and Chloe came into her life.’
Mandy couldn’t help but feel sympathy towards Pat for the torment she must have suffered all those years ago. She knew how awful miscarriages could be and how they can ruin your life. It didn’t exonerate her subsequent behaviour, but it went a little way to explaining it.
Mandy embraced Lorraine before she left the private room in the care home, and she thanked her for all she had done. Then, she picked up her son and made her way to see Richard. She took a moment to compose herself, and then slowly opened the door to where Richard was lying in bed, where he’d been when she’d first greeted him six weeks earlier.
‘Hi Richard,’ she began gently, and took a chair by his side. ‘I’ve brought somebody to see you. This is your son, Thomas. I named him after my dad who died a few years ago, I hope you don’t mind. I know you’ve met him before when your mum brought him but I thought it’d be nice if it was just the three of us together.’
Mandy gazed at father and son in turn, and admitted to herself that Pat was right: there was a palpable resemblance between the two. They shared the same colouring and even the positioning of dimples in their cheeks.
She thought back to the news headlines regarding the Match Your DNA falsified results scandal, which she’d heard earlier as she drove to the nursing home. If hers and Richard’s had been faked, she’d decided it didn’t really matter. The result was still this beautiful child buckled into the baby seat next to her. Once, she’d worried that she couldn’t love a child that wasn’t born out of a Match as much as one that was. But now she knew that not to be the case.
The strong smell of disinfectant in the room made Mandy’s nose tingle and she sneezed twice, which made Thomas giggle. She rose, placing him on the bed inside the safety railing next to Richard’s forearm, which lay poker straight by his side, and fumbled around in her pocket for a tissue.
But when she turned back to pick up her son, something was different. Richard’s arm was no longer by his side. Instead, his palm was face up and his baby son’s hand was pressed firmly inside it.
Mandy took a sharp intake of breath, not believing what she was witnessing. She watched as Richard’s fingers slowly and purposefully entwined with his son’s.
Chapter 101
AMY
Amy couldn’t bring herself to look at the blank, motionless face of the man she’d loved and whose life she’d ended.
Slumped in the chair she had tied him to, Christopher’s head tilted backwards and tears were still visible in the corners of his bloodshot eyes. She desperately wanted to bring the man she had adored back to life, but even if she could raise the dead, he’d bring with him the compulsions that she loathed.
For the sake of every other woman and herself, it had to be this way and it had to be Amy who’d set his tortured
soul free. ‘Hold it together,’ she told herself and clenched her fists into tight balls so as not to give in to sorrow. Her body still shivering, she clambered back to her feet and sifted through Christopher’s backpack, using his equipment to clean up any trace of her presence in the home of the terrified woman she’d left tied up in the bedroom, oblivious to what had just happened under her roof.
Amy harked back to just a few days earlier when, after discovering the love of her life was a serial killer, she’d put on a brave face in front of him while silently beginning the grieving process for what she was about to lose. And just as Christopher had planned to kill his final victim, after much soul-searching and internal deliberation, Amy had decided to kill him.
She’d followed his car one night as he drove to a quiet residential street in Islington, and she’d watched from a safe distance as he patrolled the road on foot, making mental notes of the position of street lights, access to the rear of a ground-floor flat and a probable escape route. She placed her hands over her mouth to stop her sobs from being overheard outside her vehicle.
If she’d followed his timeline of kills correctly, his next strike would be within the next forty-eight hours. And when he cancelled their planned evening together, blaming a rushed editorial deadline, she knew exactly where he was going and arrived there before him.
Once inside the property, she’d watched in horror as he revealed his true nature, a ruthless, efficient psychopath gearing up for the kill. She’d waited, buried in the shadows inside the girl’s home, as he made his way into position and placed his bag by his feet, removed the cheese wire and then a billiard ball, which he’d thrown at the wall to gain Number Thirty’s attention. Standing behind Christopher with the taser gun in her hand, she could smell the adrenaline flowing through him and it made her nauseous.