I Will Break You (Best International Thrillers)

by Daniela Arnold

  The next time Charly checked the time it was already after eight o’clock. Sweat ran down her back in torrents, but she felt energetic and fit. She looked around, inhaled the fresh smell of the cleaning spray into her nose, and enjoyed the feeling of purity that enveloped her and the house. Abruptly, a completely obscure thought came to her mind, destroying her elation within seconds. With her large duster she had not only removed dust and dirt but also Imogen and Adam. She had literally scrubbed them both away, eliminated their odor, taken away the last miserable remnants of the home’s once happy inhabitants.

  Charly looked around. Would Jody feel similar? Feel strange? She shook her head to free herself from the oppressive thoughts. She decided to take a hot shower before heading out into the morning rush hour to replenish supplies.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, she was sitting behind the wheel of her rental car, breathing against the rising panic. It was shortly before nine o’clock, only two hours left before Jody arrived. One hundred and twenty minutes in which she was simply Charly and not Aunt Charly, who had to take care of a small child.

  At exactly ten minutes to eleven Charly sat down at the kitchen table with a beating heart and stared at the bouquet of yellow lilies she had brought from the supermarket. A chocolate cake was baking in the oven and exuded a deliciously spicy smell that reminded her in a comforting way of her childhood. Her mother used to bake cakes every weekend. However, unlike her mother, she had used fresh ingredients and not a ready-made mix.

  That was another thing she was afraid of. Until now she had only had to take care of herself and prepare food. She had more or less lived on microwave food and baked pizza, had often gone out to eat or had ordered something because she didn’t think it was necessary to learn how to cook.

  Even the shopping itself had been more difficult than expected. Charly had felt lost in the big supermarket, had walked aimlessly through the shelves in the first few minutes, and had finally tossed her shopping list, unnerved. What good was it to her to buy things she liked to eat? What if Jody had completely different eating habits? What did children her age eat, anyway?

  She decided to search the Internet in the evening and find some easy to follow recipes for healthy meals.

  Today, she had to do the things she was sure would be done without much effort. Hence the ready-made cake, and for the evening meal, spaghetti with a Bolognese sauce out of a jar.

  For breakfast she had bought breakfast cereals, Nutella, jam and honey because she didn’t know what Jody liked best.

  She had also bought tons of cookies, juices, lemonade and ketchup, knowing that all this stuff contained way too much sugar.

  She grimaced when she realized that these things hadn’t just ended up in her shopping cart. She had bought everything deliberately because she hoped Jody liked sweets. Even more, Charly hoped with all her heart that her dead friend’s daughter liked them. And that she also took Jody into her heart.

  When she heard a car coming up the driveway, she got up and went to the door. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs as she put her hand on the handle. Pausing for a moment, she took another deep breath. Then she pushed down the handle and opened the door.

  Fifteen minutes later, four of them were sitting around the kitchen table, drinking tea and eating chocolate cake. Jody had refused to sit with them, eat, or drink anything, and insisted on playing with her doll.

  The child was completely absorbed in her play, so the adults took the opportunity to discuss the upcoming change and all the formalities involved.

  “What should I do if it turns out that I am not suitable to take care of a child?” Charly asked in a hushed voice.

  “You can call me anytime,” explained Sally Martin, a chubby and extremely sympathetic woman with whom Jody had spent the past few weeks.

  “Jody is a quiet and adaptable child with whom you should have no trouble at all. Only her insomnia is a point that you should take care of as soon as possible. It is best to make an appointment with her pediatrician today. Dr. Wulf in Brighton has a very good reputation, and he has treated Jody before.”

  The employee of the youth welfare department, Jessica Porter, looked at Charly curiously the whole time. “May I ask you something personal?”

  Charly tilted her head. “Sure.”

  “Why don’t you have children of your own? Is there a particular reason?”

  Charly briefly considered whether she should give a superficial answer. Something like: Just hasn’t come up yet. She decided to tell the truth. “I’m not the type for firm ties. That includes not only love relationships but also a mother-child relationship. All this… I don’t know if it will work out. If it doesn’t, at least I tried. For Imogen. I’m doing all this for her.”

  Jessica said sympathetically, “You must have been very close.”

  Once upon a time, Charly thought and nodded silently.

  “That must be why Mrs. Shaw wanted you to take care of Jody and not Alice Lee. Have you ever met Imogen’s half-sister?” Cathrin Snyder of the Guardianship Court asked.

  “I have not,” Charly replied. “As I heard, she entered my friend’s life relatively recently. She and I haven’t met yet, which hopefully will change soon.”

  The woman smiled. “Alice Lee is a very nice person. She would have taken Jody right after Imogen died, but the rules are different. Blood relations don’t count for anything at first. We are obliged to proceed formally with Imogen’s wishes.”

  “That’s why Jody came to stay with me,” said Sally. “I have many years of experience with traumatized children, I work with the Youth Welfare Office and the Guardianship Court and I can guarantee that I did my best to make Jody’s stay in our family as pleasant as possible.”

  “Why can’t you take Jody?” Charly asked.

  “My house is designed for four children,” Sally replied. “The capacity is fully utilized by my own two children and two foster children who live with me permanently. Jody’s stay with us was an emergency solution. So if you can’t handle it, Jody will have to be placed in an orphanage, for better or worse. At least for now. What happens then, you have to wait and see.”

  “What about Alice?” Charly asked. “Why is she not an appropriate caregiver for Jody?”

  “In case of doubt, that would have to be decided by the court,” explained Cathrin. “Precisely because Imogen has not said a word that her half-sister should be considered. If you don’t feel up to the task, you’d have to find emergency shelter for Jody and then see to it that the court decides as quickly as possible what to do with the child. If Jody is lucky, this would be Alice, but if not…”

  “In plain language this means I am Jody’s only chance to stay out of an orphanage.”

  “You’re not only Jody’s only chance, Mrs. Beck. At the request of your friend Imogen, you are now the legal guardian for the little girl. From today on, for a six week trial period, you are no longer just Charlotte, but Charlotte and Jody. If you decide afterwards that Jody may stay with you permanently, we would all be very happy.”

  Half an hour later Charly and Jody were alone in the house. A few tears were shed when the girl had to say goodbye to Sally, but Jody had quickly turned back to her toys. Charly suspected that the girl had not yet understood exactly what was going on here. That she would have to spend the rest of her time with her godmother, who was a complete stranger to her.

  Charly shuddered against the nausea caused by her nervousness.

  Sally Martin had left her a list of the most important dates for the next weeks. In addition, Cathrin Snyder and Jessica Porter had assured her that they would visit her twice within the first month to check up on her, and that they would be available to answer any questions. Jessica and Sally had even given her their private numbers and asked to contact her in case of emergency.

  From the foster mother she had also received a complete list of Jody’s current likes and considerations. Charly read what was written on the
paper:

  Gets stomachache from apples or apple juice.

  Too much sugar can lead to restlessness.

  She likes dark red fruit tea sweetened with a little honey.

  Allergic to: Penicillin, hazelnuts, perfumed body creams.

  Do not let her watch too much television, this will aggravate sleep disorders. It is better to go out into the fresh air.

  Loves her doll more than anything, so washing will be difficult. I waited until Jody was asleep, then carefully took it away and put it in the washing machine. In the morning it was slightly damp but at least clean.

  She stood up, took the Nutella jar out of the cupboard, and threw it into the trash can. Afterwards she studied the ingredients of the cookie wrappers and disposed of more than half of them. Luckily, she had bought grapes in addition to apples, so Jody didn’t have to go without fruit completely tonight. Instead of apple juice, she would just make her a pot of fruit tea.

  Charly realized then that she had completely forgotten to ask if Jody was already using the toilet, yet to call Sally or Jessica just for that seemed ridiculous to her. If necessary she would get a pack of diapers.

  She heard a soft rustle behind her and whirled around. Jody stood there in the kitchen doorway, her doll clamped under her arm, staring at Charly wide eyed. Charly gulped down her rising panic and stepped towards the child, crouching down in front of her. At the sight of the girl she became painfully aware of how much she reminded her of Imogen. Jody’s hair was exactly the same shade of gold, and her ice-blue eyes resembled those of her mother down to the smallest detail. Only the slightly defiant lines around her mouth were from her father.

  Charly pointed to the rag doll in Jody’s arms. “Does your dolly have a name?”

  No answer.

  “She’s very pretty,” Charly kept trying. “May I have a look?”

  No reaction.

  “You know, Jody, I’m sorry about what happened to your mommy and daddy.”

  The little girl’s eyes brimmed with tears.

  Such a crap thing to say, Charly chastised herself. Why did I have to start with that?

  Yet there was no point in avoiding this topic. Jody’s parents were dead and keeping quiet about it did not undo this terrible fact.

  “I… I liked your mommy very much,” Charly said, looking Jody straight in the eyes. “She and I knew each other since we were little girls. We met in kindergarten. Do you go to kindergarten already?”

  Jody shook her head tentatively.

  “Would you like to go there sometime?”

  Nod.

  Charly smiled. She had to go on, involve the girl in a conversation. “Would you like to play something?”

  Shake of her head.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Shake of her head.

  “I have an idea,” Charly said brightly. “What do you think about showing me your room? The two of us are going to spend a lot of time together now, so it would certainly be good to know what toys you have.”

  “Mommy,” Jody pushed out and looked so heartbreakingly sad that Charly thought she was breaking inside. Quickly she pulled the child into her arms, stroking her back reassuringly. “I miss her terribly, too,” she said and pushed Jody away at arm’s length, looking at her seriously. “That’s why you and I have to stick together even more firmly now and try to make the best of it. You know what I mean?”

  “Yes, she’s with Daddy, in heaven.”

  Charly pulled the child back into her arms. “I know. And they’re both watching over you from up there.”

  When she put Jody to bed in the evening, Charly poured herself a glass of red wine and fell exhausted onto the sofa. She felt as tired and drained as after a fourteen-hour workday. At the very least, an impending disaster had turned out to be a minor annoyance because Jody, of course, didn’t need diapers anymore and, as she hadn’t gotten tired, had been going to the restroom for a long time. Imogen had therefore bought her a kind of step stool with the help of which she was able to sit on the toilet all by herself and do her business.

  Charly remembered then that she hadn’t called Andreas back yet. But he hadn’t called her either, which was strange to her. Then she remembered that she had left her phone on the nightstand. She quietly climbed up the stairs to the second floor and glanced into Jody’s room on the way to the guest room.

  Jody was sleeping soundly, her doll in her arms. Charly felt her innermost being cramping up. The sight of the ugly toy had triggered something in her from the beginning that she could not put into words. Somehow the doll reminded her of something in her childhood that scared her deeply. Something dark, something long suppressed. Charly wondered if it was the big, dark blue saucer eyes that seemed to look right through her, or whether it was the disheveled and woolen braids of the doll.

  Charly felt such a deep aversion to this toy that she would have loved to throw it away. Knowing Jody would never forgive her for that, she banished the thought from her mind. It had taken her all day today to get Jody to open up to her a little. During dinner—mashed potatoes and scrambled eggs—she had told her an old story from Imogen’s and her childhood, even making Jody smile a bit. She had read her a bedtime story and then waited until she fell asleep. Basically a successful first day, Charly thought. She quietly closed the bedroom door and went on to the guest room to check her cell phone. When she checked the display, she cringed. Andreas. He had called countless times, and had to be burning with rage because she hadn’t answered.

  She picked up the phone and typed a message on WhatsApp. “I will be staying here for the next six weeks. Maybe it’s better that way, considering what’s happened between us in the past. Then I’ll decide what to do next. Please don’t call me anymore, I need my nerves to get some things straight. Charlotte.”

  She wrote her boss in a short e-mail that she urgently needed some time off and would therefore take her annual vacation starting from now. After both messages were sent, she stowed the cell phone in the drawer of her bedside table and headed back to the living room to drink her wine.

  On her way to the first floor, she stopped in front of her Imogen’s bedroom and entered after a moment of hesitation. It felt kind of strange to enter her friend’s inner sanctum, yet she felt she had to do just that. She stepped towards the large closet and opened it. She glanced over her friend’s neatly arranged stacks of clothes and opened the other side of the closet. Two colorful bags with the imprint of a well-known toy chain on the bottom caught her attention. They contained various cuddly toys and several rolls of wrapping paper and invitation cards for Jody’s birthday. With trembling fingers Charly pulled out the corresponding receipts. When looking at the date of purchase, she froze. She took a few steps backwards and sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the receipt. Imogen had bought the gifts for her daughter only five days before her death. None of this fit together. Edward Clark had told her that the police assumed Imogen had planned her death long before she died. Jody had gone to a friend’s house that day to play, and when her mother did not hear from Imogen all day or the following evening, nor had she answered her phone, the mother had informed the police. They didn’t find Imogen’s shattered body until another day later, and after a long search, at the foot of the cliff at Beachy Head, wedged between two boulders, bloated by the salt water.

  Charly’s muscles tightened and she began to vibrate inside. She had felt it all the time that something was wrong. At noon today, looking at Jody’s face, her suspicion had given way to a dark premonition that now turned into certainty. Why would Imogen plan her suicide while at the same time she was shopping for presents for Jody’s birthday preparing a party?

  She slapped her hands in front of her face and burst into tears. What did that mean? Did she end up getting lost in something because she just couldn’t bear the truth? That her best friend from childhood had left her innocent daughter to fend for herself? Charly’s eyes fell on the two bags. No! None of
this fit in with the Imogen she had known. Even if Imogen had suffered from depression after the death of her husband, she would never have had the idea to disappear forever quietly and secretly. Or would she? What did Charly know about depression and its effects?

  She got up and closed the closet door. Her decision was clear. First thing in the morning, she and Jody would make their way to the police in Lewes. She just had to talk to someone about it, if only to find out firsthand what really happened that day. She wanted to review Imogen’s last day as best she could, somehow understand how it could have happened. After a last look back, Charly turned off the light in the bedroom and headed downstairs, knowing full well that she would not be able to sleep tonight.

  Chapter 6

  Newhaven, June 2015

  The next morning Charly felt broken. The first night with Jody in the house and already she had developed a protector instinct that kept her from sleeping. She remembered how Imogen had confided in her after her daughter was born that she had hardly slept properly one night since then, always with one eye and one ear on her daughter. Back then, Charly had smiled about it, told Imogen it would go away eventually, but now she felt the same way. Again and again she had woken up the previous night and tiptoed to Jody’s room, had watched the child sleep for long minutes. Only at dawn had she finally fallen into a brief and not very restful sleep, completely exhausted, dreaming of a closet with piles of presents in it, on which, however hard she tried, the door wouldn’t close.