Your Guilty Lies (ARC)

by Ruth Heald

  19

  The man is here again, in the garden. Dad can’t have known he was coming because he’s gone out with my sister. Mum let him in and he went straight outside. I thought Mum might come up to our room to take me down to the basement, but she didn’t. I’ll stay upstairs out of the way, just in case. I kneel on a chair by the window, watching him, waiting for the hours to pass. Hoping that Dad doesn’t come back.

  I’ve spent a lot of time in the summer holidays hiding in our room away from Dad. I’ve doodled on the wall behind the headboard of my bed, where Dad won’t be able to see it. There’s a picture of me and my sister, holding hands, smiles on our faces, happy the way we used to be. I’ve drawn our parents behind us, Dad towering over Mum.

  The man’s close to the house today, cutting the hedge just below my window. He’s totally absorbed in what he’s doing. I want to wave or knock on the window so he sees me, but I don’t. I know what happened last time. When he finishes, he climbs down the ladder and looks up at his work. At first I think he’s looking at me, but he hasn’t even noticed me. He’s gazing intently at the hedge.

  From this angle I can see his face clearly. Spots litter his pale skin and his hair is slicked back with gel. He’s young. Not a man at all. Like one of the big kids that go to the secondary school up the road.

  A hand touches my shoulder and I jump, nearly falling off the chair. But it’s only Mum. She strokes my hair back from my face.

  ‘You were watching him,’ she says.

  I nod, unsure what she’s trying to say. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say tentatively, remembering how angry Dad was when I’d waved.

  ‘You know who he is?’ she says softly.

  ‘No.’ I stare up at her, see the tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes.

  ‘He’s your brother.’

  Thirty-Nine

  I throw Paula’s phone down on the bed, furious. I don’t understand why she’d intercept my calls to Ian. I pace back and forth across the room, my mind whirring and my anger building.

  I hear a key in the door. Paula’s back.

  I grab the phone and run down the stairs, my heart thumping.

  ‘I got the nappies,’ she says when she sees me.

  But then she catches my expression. The fury in my eyes. ‘Katie? What’s wrong?’

  I hold up the phone. ‘What’s this?’

  Her face goes white. ‘I have two phones. One’s for work and—’

  I step closer to her, barely able to contain my anger. She recoils from me, as if she’s afraid of me. Or afraid of being caught.

  ‘Liar.’ My voice is louder than I expect, the pent-up emotions of the last few weeks exploding out of me. Upstairs, the girls start to scream. ‘I found messages, Paula. My messages. The ones I sent to Ian when I’d given birth. Except they didn’t go to Ian. They went to you. You intercepted them. You made sure he didn’t know his babies were born. You made him miss the birth. How could you?’

  I expect her to deny it, to come up with some complicated explanation, but she doesn’t. When she speaks, her voice is a whisper. ‘I was trying to protect you.’

  ‘What? Why did you think it was your place to protect me? And how did you do it? Did you redirect our calls and texts?’

  ‘No. All I did was change the contact details in your phones. Just before he went away I changed the number you had listed as Ian to my number, and the number he had listed as you to the same number. I switched them back as soon as he returned.’

  I stare at her, shocked. ‘You’re not even sorry.’

  ‘No, I’m not. I’m not sorry because I did the right thing.’ My blood runs cold. Upstairs the twins’ screams have quietened and I wonder if they’ve cried themselves to sleep.

  ‘How can you possibly think a father missing the birth of his children is the right thing?’ I’m on the verge of tears, remembering how she held my hand in labour, remembering how pleased I’d been that she was there when Ian couldn’t be.

  ‘Katie, I needed him to go away. And once he was away I needed him to stay away for good.’

  ‘What do you mean, you needed him to go away?’ My stomach turns as I remember the anonymous email Ian said he’d received, telling him to stay away from me or they’d tell me about his wife. ‘Did you send Ian an email telling him to leave? Were you blackmailing him?’

  ‘Yes. But it wasn’t for the money. I knew he didn’t have it. It was to get him away from you. It was for the best. If you knew what he was really like…’

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

  ‘What do you mean? Do you mean the fact he was married? I know that’s awful, but I didn’t need you to punish him for me. You could just have told me what was going on.’

  Paula sighs. ‘It’s not that. It’s far worse than that. I needed to protect you.’

  ‘Protect me from what?’

  ‘From Ian.’

  ‘What?’ She’s not making any sense.

  ‘You read the newspaper articles about what happened to the girl in the basement, didn’t you?’

  I nod.

  ‘Then you know Ian was the brother of the girl who died.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Paula had known that too? And never said anything?

  ‘There were two girls living in this house. Twins, like yours. Twins run in Ian’s family. When I found out you were having two babies, I thought your daughters would have the chance to be happy here. To rewrite history. As long as I didn’t let Ian anywhere near them.’

  ‘Why?’ I ask. ‘Why wouldn’t you want Ian near them?’

  ‘Because I know what really happened to his sister.’

  My chest clenches and I can hardly breathe. I’m not sure I’m ready for what she’s about to say. ‘The newspapers said his father was arrested.’

  ‘He was. Ian’s father nearly went to jail because of it. A lot of people round here think he killed her. But other people, people who knew the family a bit better, think it wasn’t him at all. They think it was Ian. He was jealous that she lived in this big house, while he lived a few streets away in a council flat with his mother.’

  ‘What?’ I ask, breathlessly. ‘They think Ian murdered her?’ My head’s spinning.

  ‘Yes. I had to keep him away from you. To protect you. And the twins.’

  I can’t make sense of it. Ian may be a liar, but he’s never been violent. And back then he would only have been a child himself. ‘Was he arrested?’ I ask.

  ‘No, the police couldn’t quite prove it. But everyone who knew the family knew it was him.’ She reaches out her hand and puts it on my shoulder. ‘Including me. I’ve no doubt in my mind. Ian killed her.’

  Forty

  I can’t believe what Paula’s just told me. Ian killed his sister. I feel sick as an image flashes through my mind. Ian pushing his sister down the stairs. Her small body crumpled at the bottom.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Paula asks. ‘You’ve gone pale.’

  I feel like I might faint and I sink down onto the cold tiles in the hallway. Paula brings me a glass of water and I sip it gratefully.

  She places her hand on my shoulder. ‘You see why I moved in with you now?’ she asks gently. ‘I had to.’

  I nod, but I’m still trying to digest what she’s said. I can’t believe it.

  ‘I think I need to go and lie down,’ I say.

  ‘You do that. You’ve had quite a shock. I’ll look after the twins.’

  Lying on my bed upstairs, I stare up at the dusty ceiling. Everyone has been lying to me. And now I’m scared. Ian’s supposed to be coming round tomorrow to take the girls out. I can’t possibly let him. I think about calling him, but then decide to text him instead to cancel. I don’t want to listen to anymore lies from him. I need to digest what’s happened.

  My mind spins. I’m not sure I can handle this. I think of the call I had with Mum just a couple of days ago. She lied to me too. She lied about my whole childhood. But she said she did it to protect me. I believe her now. I forgive he
r. And now I need her help. I don’t know what to do.

  I pick up the phone and call her, but it goes straight to answerphone. I hang up and try again. Still no answer. I leave a garbled message, explaining about the basement, about what Paula’s said about Ian. And then at the end of the message, I tell her I forgive her for my childhood, and for the lies she told.

  * * *

  The next day, I wake up in a sweat and check my phone. I haven’t had a reply from Ian to the text message asking him not to come round this morning. He hasn’t even asked why I don’t want to see him.

  My phone beeps as I’m breastfeeding Alice and Paula’s giving Frances a bottle.

  We need to talk. I’m still coming over.

  I hold up my phone and show Paula the message.

  ‘We won’t let him in,’ she says.

  I stand by the stained-glass window on the landing overlooking the driveway, anxiously waiting. When I see his shadow crossing the driveway, my body tenses, on high alert. I hold Frances close to me as I watch him approach the door.

  I hear the knocks. Quiet at first. And then louder. More insistent. He shouts out my name through the letterbox. ‘Katie! Open the door.’

  I stand stock-still, waiting for him to go away, heart beating fast.

  ‘Katie!’ he shouts again.

  And then he takes out his key and lets himself in.

  Paula can’t have heard him. She’s in the kitchen, sterilising baby bottles. I hurry down the stairs with Frances in my arms, stepping as carefully as I can.

  ‘Oh,’ Ian says at the bottom of the stairs. ‘You are in.’

  I stand there, staring at him, looking at him through new eyes. This is the man who killed his sister.

  ‘I told you not to come round,’ I say, my voice shaking. I just want him as far away from me as possible.

  Ian looks perplexed. ‘It’s my house, Katie. And I wanted to take them out. I was going to take them to the lake, show them the ducks.’

  ‘You can’t have them today.’ I wish Paula would hurry up and come through from the kitchen. I want to shout for her, but I don’t want to alarm Ian.

  ‘Why not? Are they ill?’

  ‘I found the basement, Ian.’ I look down at the floor, too afraid to look at him and see the guilt I know will be in his eyes.

  ‘The basement? What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’ I whisper.

  He reaches out to me and I pull away from him. ‘When you first moved into the house, you seemed frightened enough of it already. You were here alone and it didn’t seem worth mentioning. I’ve never even been down there myself. I don’t know what it’s like.’

  ‘Ian, it’s clear Katie doesn’t want you here.’ I jump. I hadn’t heard Paula coming up behind me, but I’m so relieved she’s here.

  ‘Can’t I just take the twins out? I miss them.’

  ‘No,’ Paula says firmly. ‘You can’t. You need to leave now. Katie’s not feeling herself.’

  He turns to me. ‘Katie – are you alright?’

  I look at Paula. ‘No,’ I say. ‘I’m actually feeling quite sick.’

  ‘Katie’s under a lot of stress. What with you selling the house, and discovering all your lies. It’s taken its toll on her. She just needs to rest. And to be close to her twins. They’re all she has in the world.’

  He looks at me. ‘OK. I’m sorry you’re stressed. I never meant to hurt you—’

  ‘Just go,’ I say.

  * * *

  When the door shuts behind him, Paula looks at me. ‘We need to change the locks,’ she says. An hour later, I hand over half of my emergency supply of cash from my piano teaching to an on-call locksmith, and we have new locks and new sets of keys.

  After everything that’s happened, Paula suggests I take a long bath to try and relax, while she takes the babies for a walk. I agree. Every muscle in my body feels permanently tense after the revelations about Ian and the girl in the basement. I feel like my mind is about to explode and I can’t make sense of anything, can’t piece it all together.

  While I’m in the bath, my phone rings. I’ve left it on the sink beside the bath. I think for a moment that it might be Mum calling me back.

  I wipe my hand on the towel and reach for my phone. But it’s a number I don’t recognise. I’m about to put the phone down, but then I think it might be one of Paula’s references returning my call.

  I pick it up.

  ‘Are you on your own?’ the voice says, and my body goes tense.

  I sit up straighter in the bath. ‘Who is this?’

  ‘It’s Sabrina.’

  ‘Sabrina? Now’s not a good time.’ Why on earth is she ringing me?

  ‘Is Paula with you?’ she asks.

  ‘No. What do you want?’

  ‘Look, I know you sent Ian away this morning. I don’t understand why, but this isn’t about that.’

  ‘What is it about, then?’ I ask impatiently. I wonder if she knows about Ian’s past.

  ‘Ian told me not to mention this. He thinks I’m imagining things. But after he told me about this morning, how you and Paula chucked him out, well, I thought it was my duty to tell you.’

  My blood runs cold. Is this about the girl in the basement?

  ‘Tell me what?’ I whisper.

  ‘It’s Paula. I know who she is. When I fainted at your house it was because I felt terrified. At first I couldn’t work out why. But then I saw Paula again when I regained consciousness and I recognised her.’

  I listen intently, desperate to find out how Sabrina knows Paula.

  ‘Ian thinks I’m wrong, but I’m sure I’m right. Years ago I had a horrible accident. I was pregnant…’ Sabrina’s voice breaks and she takes a moment to recollect herself. ‘And I fell down an escalator. I lost the baby.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say, suddenly feeling sorry for her. Ian had told me how much she’d wanted children. And he’d told me she had emotional difficulties. Maybe the accident and the miscarriage were the root of her problems.

  ‘Everyone thought I’d fallen, but I knew I was pushed. I remembered. But no one believed me. They thought it was my head injury making me delusional. But it wasn’t. I knew someone had pushed me. I could see her face so clearly in my mind’s eye. I tried to find out who it was. I even spoke to security at the shopping centre, but there was no CCTV by the escalator so I never got anywhere. When I first saw Paula and I fainted, I didn’t know why I felt so scared. Then I saw her again and I knew it was her. She was the one who pushed me.’

  20

  We have a brother. My sister says she doesn’t care, but I lie in bed at night and I can’t stop thinking about it. Mum told me his name is Ian and he lives on the council estate up the road with his own mother. He’s a bit older than us, old enough to stand up to Dad if he knew what Dad did to me, how he hurt me. I don’t think he knows he has sisters. I think of him walking around town, completely unaware of our existence. Will he be as excited as I am when he finds out? I wonder if he likes the same books and TV as me, if we have similar taste.

  I wrap my arms around the toy rabbit I’ve had since I was a child. It smells musty, of dribble and dirt, but the smell comforts me. It’s always been there for me. As I cuddle it, I imagine my brother’s arms around me. I imagine him comforting me when Dad hurts me, I imagine him standing up for me when Dad shouts at me, I imagine him standing in the way when Dad tries to hit me. I smile. If he was here, would everything be alright?

  I have an idea. I’m going to have to be brave, but it will be worth it. I wait until our parents come upstairs to bed, flushing the toilet and cleaning their teeth and then finally quietening. I creep out of our bedroom. Outside our parents’ room I listen for my father’s heavy breathing before I scurry on to the study. Once I’m there, I take a sheet of notepaper from the pile at the edge of the desk. When I get back to our room, I flick on the nightlight and try and work out what to write.

  ‘What are you doing?’ m
y sister whispers.

  ‘I’m writing our brother a note.’

  She frowns. ‘He might not even want to know us.’

  ‘Maybe he could help us,’ I say. ‘Help us get away from Dad.’

  ‘I don’t want to get away from Dad.’ She fiddles with the necklace that Dad bought her, pressing the tiny silver bird between her fingers. ‘You know he’ll be angry if he finds out,’ she says.

  I know she’s right, but I can’t bear to think about it. Anything’s worth a try to get out of here.

  I return to the blank piece of paper in front of me. No matter what she says, I think a part of her wants to escape too. She can’t feel safe here. Because I know, deep down inside, that neither of us are safe.

  Forty-One

  I gasp, shocked by what Sabrina’s said, and the phone slips out of my hand and into the bathwater. When I pull it out the screen is mottled with blue and green dots. I press it urgently with wet fingers. No response. I get out of the bath, quickly wipe the phone with the hand towel and then try it again. Nothing. I put it next to the radiator to dry. Then I hear the front door opening and Paula coming in with the twins.

  ‘Hello?’ she calls out.

  ‘Hi,’ I call back, my voice shaking. I quickly dress and then rush downstairs. Pulling my twins out of the buggy and into my arms, I think about what Sabrina just said on the phone. Is she just crazy, or is there something in it?