by Emma Rous
I can hardly breathe. “So you thought . . .”
“Well, that’s when we decided to invite you here. It was only meant to be for a week or so. Enough time to trick Hendrik into believing you were Nina, and then you’d go back.” Briefly, she meets my gaze, and her expression grows earnest. “But we liked having you here, Beth. Nina liked you. And Markus always wanted her to have a brother or sister—he was the one who suggested you stay until Caroline was ready for you . . .”
“And Caroline never was ready for me,” I say faintly.
“No.” She turns back to the window. “No, Caroline turned out to have been playing a game of her own.”
I stare at her, and it takes me a moment to respond. “What do you mean?”
But she’s lost in her thoughts now. As the silence stretches, my hope stretches with it, like a strand of toffee about to snap. Then, when she finally begins to talk again, her words come quickly, referring to me in the third person, as if she’s forgotten I’m right here next to her. I wonder if the shock of last night has finally caught up with her—and then I forget everything else as I’m drawn into her story.
“Markus said he’d never noticed anything odd about Beth until he got back from his diving trip. But then he saw something, when he was getting his suitcases out of the car. ‘She looked just like my mother,’ he said. Not that he told me at the time.” She frowns. “No, he kept it quiet. Until Caroline came for her Christmas visit.”
I think back to that last visit of Caroline’s—the stilted conversation in the drawing room; Markus suggesting we walk around the lake but leave Leonora at home; Markus suggesting that Nina and I take the rowing boat out for what might be the last time before the lake froze over. Markus and Caroline strolling away along the lake path, then, just the two of them . . .
“I watched from the window,” Leonora says. “They went all the way around, past the tree stump, out of sight. And when they came back, Caroline looked angry. She left immediately, but—” Her voice turns bitter. “Markus was in a great mood. He wanted to tell the girls the news straightaway, he said, but luckily, I made him tell me first, and then I begged him to wait . . .”
I lean closer. “Tell the girls what news?”
She doesn’t seem to hear me. “And then he wanted to buy them matching bracelets . . .”
“What news, Leonora? What was it?”
“Caroline wasn’t his client.” She spits out the word. “She was his ex-girlfriend. I’d seen her years earlier, from a distance, but she wasn’t a hard-faced journalist back then. She was all long hair and denim shorts and orange crop top . . . She used to call herself Kat.”
Something stirs in my memory, like sludge shifting at the bottom of the lake. My brother, Ricky, calling our rarely seen aunt Caroline “Aunty Kat.” As if he’d once had a closer relationship with her, before I came on the scene.
Leonora’s voice drops. “He said he made Caroline tell him the truth, on that walk around the lake. That after they broke up, she found out she was pregnant. She was going to get rid of the baby. But her sister persuaded her . . .”
“No,” I whisper.
“Because her sister’s son had cystic fibrosis, and she was desperate for another child, but she was scared of it having the same condition . . . So the sister took on Kat’s baby.”
I shake my head. “No!”
“Markus said it made Nina and Beth practically sisters.” She screws up her face in anger. “But that wasn’t true! And everything I’d ever planned—”
I stumble to my feet, and Leonora’s attention snaps back to the present. She looks horrified for a moment, and then she glares at me accusingly.
“Get out!” She, too, springs to her feet, her voice rising to a shriek. “What are you doing in here? Get out of my house!”
I run from her. But I can’t run from the truth.
I’m Markus and Caroline’s daughter.
Sadie
Sadie stumbles backward into the hall as Beth flees the dining room.
Beth is white-faced, horrified. She repeats the same words over and over: “I’m not . . . I’m not . . . I’m not . . .” When Sadie tries to go to her, to comfort her, Beth bats her away as if she doesn’t recognize her.
Sadie’s still struggling to make sense of Leonora’s words herself. She barely knows her great-aunt Caroline . . . My grandmother Caroline, she thinks with a jolt. But one thing’s for sure: Beth has never coped well with even trivial emotional subjects. How can she possibly cope with a revelation of this magnitude?
“Beth, look at me.” Somehow, Joe’s voice cuts through Beth’s panic. “You’re going to be okay,” Joe tells her. “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”
Beth’s breathing gradually slows. “I’m not . . . I’m not who I thought I was . . .”
“You’re still my mum, though,” Sadie says, and this time she manages to catch hold of Beth’s hands. “It doesn’t change us, does it?”
Beth stares back at her. “I wish I hadn’t asked . . . Everything I ever thought . . . I wish I didn’t know . . .”
Sadie’s heart contracts with guilt, because she was the one who sent Beth to talk to Leonora in the first place.
“I’m so sorry,” Sadie says. “I’m really sorry, Mum.”
Beth
I’m Markus and Caroline’s daughter.
It hits me repeatedly, like waves battering a shore.
Sadie doesn’t take her eyes off me. “I’m so sorry, Mum.” I want to comfort her, but I don’t know how to comfort myself.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Jonas says again.
I close my eyes. I’m not the person I thought I was. And on top of that, my biological mother is still alive. But she kept our connection hidden, not just when I had parents who loved me, but after I believed myself orphaned, when I was at my most vulnerable. I’m torn between wanting an explanation from her, and wanting never to see her again. What kind of a mother is she?
And then another question occurs to me: Am I like her? Am I like Caroline?
My eyes snap open, and I see the tears on Sadie’s cheeks.
“I should never have suggested you talk to Leonora,” Sadie says. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“No.” I straighten up, and I try to smile at her. “I was wrong, when I said I’d rather not know. Of course it’s better to know . . .”
“Really?” she says.
“Really.”
I draw her into my arms, then, my precious daughter.
I’m nothing like Caroline.
Sadie
A police officer interrupts them to say Nina has been given the all clear by the paramedics. She’s been charged with attempted murder, and they’re taking her to the police station. The rest of them are free to leave.
Beth feels faint, and Joe guides her to a chair in the hall, where she sits, breathing deeply, her head hanging. After a minute, she glances up at Sadie and smiles weakly.
“It’s lack of sleep, that’s all. I’ll be fine, honestly.”
Sadie leaves her with Joe, and she goes to talk to Hendrik. He’s the only one who continues to look unruffled by Leonora’s revelation—reassured, even.
“Well, well,” he says. “So now we know. It all makes sense.” He beams at Sadie, and finally she feels a flicker of something like gladness in her heart. She studies him with renewed curiosity.
“So . . . you’re my great-grandfather, then?”
“It’s marvelous, isn’t it?” He grasps her hand. “To find each other, after all this time. But you’ve got a decision to make now, young lady.”
Sadie can’t help but smile; if anyone else called her young lady, she’d bite their head off, but somehow, coming from her very own, newly discovered great-grandfather . . .
“What decision?” she says.
“Do you want the ho
use?” Hendrik glances across to Beth, then back to Sadie. “I can’t imagine your mother wants it. I was going to sell it, get rid of it once and for all. But if you want it, Sadie . . . well, Raven Hall is yours.”
Beth
One month later, February 2019
Caroline’s e-mail said she’d be back in London for only a quick forty-eight-hour turnaround, but if it really was that important, she could spare us ten minutes. Outside the apartment, Sadie gives me an encouraging smile. I ring the doorbell and step back, my heart pounding.
The door jerks open almost immediately, and though I’m not sure what I was expecting, it wasn’t this. Caroline stands there, glaring at us, and she’s holding a card at arm’s length, dangled between finger and thumb, as if she’s revolted by it.
“If you’re here because of this, I’m not interested. It’s going straight in the bin, and I don’t have time for chitchat.”
I stare at her, bemused, and then my gaze slides along her arm to the card: it’s another of Nina’s invitations.
“Can I see it?” Sadie asks, and she virtually snatches the card from Caroline’s hand. She scans it quickly, then gives me a shocked look. “Nina invited Caroline too.”
“I’ve literally just opened it,” Caroline snaps. “I’ve been away for three months. There’s no point sending me things like this in the post.”
Gingerly, I take the card from Sadie, and I read the blue looping handwriting on the back: We’d love to see you there!
“I guess now we know why Genevieve was hired at the last minute,” Sadie says to me. “A substitute for Caroline when she didn’t reply.”
Caroline makes an impatient noise. “Look, could you tell me what this is about? I’m really very busy.”
“I know,” I say.
She frowns. “What?”
“Everything. About Leonora’s game. About Markus. About—you. I know you’re my mother.”
She rocks back on her heels. After a few seconds of shock, her expression softens into something that looks like regret, and for a moment, I glimpse tears in her eyes. But when she finally speaks, her voice is calm and controlled.
“Who told you?”
No happy relief that the truth is finally out. Just that sharp question, as if she wanted the answer for one of her articles.
“Leonora,” I say. “She told me everything.”
Caroline’s shoulders sag. Sadie and I are barely across the threshold, the door still wide open behind us. I shift uncomfortably, waiting for her to say something, although I don’t know what I’m hoping for—what could she possibly say that would make me feel better? I almost wish I hadn’t come, but Sadie takes my hand, and her touch reminds me of my new resolutions. To face the past. To be more open about my feelings.
“I was an idiot,” Caroline says eventually, quietly. She looks directly at me. “I thought sending you off to Raven Hall would solve all our problems—mine, yours, and theirs. I never thought anyone would guess . . .”
I stare at her. “But what about—before that? When Mum and Dad died, the accident. Didn’t you think, then . . . ?”
She shakes her head. “It was too late, by then, to tell you. How could I? And anyway, my work . . .”
Sadie makes a scathing noise, but I squeeze her hand to hush her. I want to hear everything Caroline has to say before we leave. Because I know we’re going to leave, and soon.
“Look, I’m sorry, Beth,” Caroline says. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. Your parents loved you. They’re the ones who wanted you. I tried, honestly, but I never could . . .” She drops her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
The silence stretches. Eventually, I look at my watch.
“Well, we’ll leave you to it,” I say.
Sadie gives Caroline a strange, penetrating look. “I feel sorry for you, Caroline.”
We leave then, Sadie and I. We walk back out of the apartment, hand in hand. I’m glad I faced Caroline, my mother. But I’m even more glad to be going home with my daughter now.
Sadie
July 2019
Sadie turned down Hendrik’s offer of Raven Hall.
There were too many arguments against it. Not least, the horror on her mother’s face when Hendrik first suggested the idea. But also, the awkwardness of accepting such an immense gift from a ninety-year-old great-grandfather she’d only just met; and the responsibilities and lifestyle changes that taking on a house like Raven Hall would entail . . .
“I still think you should have grabbed it with both hands,” Wendy says. Sadie has met her former agent for coffee, and they’re weaving between tables in a café overlooking the high street, heading for their favorite seats. “God, Sadie, you could have sold it straight on if you didn’t want it, kept the money. You’d be a millionaire by now.”
Sadie laughs. “It’s not like that, though. Hendrik would buy me a different house if I asked him—he even says he’ll find me a job in his company if I want it. But weirdly, it makes me realize—”
Wendy pulls a face as she sits down. “Oh, please. Don’t start with the Love is more powerful than money stuff.”
“No, honestly, it’s just a weird situation to be in. I want to take my time, that’s all. I actually quite like my life as it is . . .”
“How can you say that? You’ve already changed loads.”
“Yeah, but that was nothing to do with Hendrik,” Sadie says. “That was me.”
After their ordeal at Raven Hall, Beth finally opened up to Sadie about her past. As well as telling Sadie about her time at Raven Hall, Beth described the months she spent sleeping on the streets afterward, and the homeless charity that helped her—the same charity that she in turn has tried to support ever since. When Sadie spotted the charity’s name on a job advert in the local newspaper a few weeks later, she drew a circle around it and rang the number straightaway.
“So, when do you start?” Wendy asks her.
“In three weeks.” Sadie can’t disguise her excitement. “They’ll be training me at first, of course, and I know it’ll be hard, but—I really can’t wait. To actually feel like I’m making a difference to people . . .”
Wendy sighs. “So no more mermaid auditions?”
“Nope,” Sadie says with a grin. “Not for the time being, anyway.”
“Oh well.” Wendy sips her coffee, then tips in a packet of sugar. “At least your mum sounds happier now. How’s her new man working out?”
“Pretty well, actually.” Sadie smiles. “I mean, he’s not that new, but . . . yeah, I think he’s good for her. I really like him.”
“Oh, it’s no good.” Wendy gets to her feet. “I’ve got to have some of that carrot cake. It’s calling me.”
Sadie watches Wendy weave between tables to reach the counter, and then she drops her gaze to the charm bracelet on her wrist. After years of hardly ever wearing it, she decided to put it on this morning. She twists it slowly, admiring the charms and enjoying the sense of connection it gives her to her grandfather Markus.
Wendy returns with her cake. “So, fill me in, then. Is there a date for the trial? Have you seen any of the other guests? What’s the latest?”
Sadie sighs. She’s not supposed to talk about the case, but that doesn’t stop everyone asking her for details. There’s been plenty of information in the press, though, so she sticks to this and pretends it’s all she knows.
“They’re still collating evidence,” she says. “There’s no date yet.”
“And Nina Averell’s still locked up?”
“Yep.”
Wendy’s eyes are enormous. “I can’t believe your mum was friends with a murderer.”
“It was only attempted murder,” Sadie says weakly.
“I know, but—Nina was so devious, wasn’t she? Hiring those people to refurbish the house, and they all believed her when she said she was t
he owner . . . And knocking back the poisoned gin herself, to try to make the rest of you drink it . . .”
“It was whiskey, actually. And the active compound had broken down, so it didn’t have much effect anyway.”
“Still.” Wendy’s eyes shine with admiration. “You’re lucky to be alive. I was saying that to—actually, do you know what? You could step straight into that mermaid commercial now, if you still wanted it. I’d just need to make one call . . .”
Sadie laughs. “No, thanks—and listen. Don’t go around talking about this too much, will you?”
“Gosh no, don’t worry.” Wendy nods seriously. “My lips are sealed.”
They sip their coffees. Sadie closes her eyes for a moment, relishing the buzz of happy chatter all around them in the café. In fact, there have been two major developments in Nina’s case—neither of which Sadie can share with Wendy.
Shortly after Nina learned the truth, in jail, about Beth being Markus’s biological daughter, Beth was called back to the police station to be interviewed about a new accusation that Nina had leveled against Leonora. Nina is now claiming that Leonora sent Markus out onto the ice deliberately, knowing it was likely that he would fall through.
“My mother knew I wouldn’t have carried on following Beth,” Nina had stated to her solicitor. “She knew I’d have turned around and gone back to the house—I wasn’t allowed to leave Raven Hall, or go into the village. So there was no need for her to send Dad out after me. But she sent him anyway, because she knew the ice was weakening, and she was desperate to silence him. She wanted to protect my fraudulent inheritance of Raven Hall.”
Sadie and Beth can’t agree on whether they think this is even remotely possible.