‘Thank God.’ I kiss Thomas’s forehead.
‘Nick used his nickname Cole when he was with Scarlett. He’d told her at Christmas that you had left him, so she had no idea you were still together or pregnant. But when she found out, apparently she wanted to punish him.’
‘Nick manipulated us both. I don’t want to press any charges against either of the girls, only Nick.’
Chapter Seventy-Eight
13 August 2018
Scarlett
The police question us, but they let us go because thankfully Gemma decides not to press charges. She tells them she gave me permission to look after Thomas and accepts our reasons for not bringing him back on time, given everything that has happened. I give the police all text and email conversations between Cole and me. He’s being questioned for attempted murder, grooming me while in his care at school and for coercive behaviour and domestic violence towards Gemma.
Amy and I hug goodbye on the steps outside the police station. She goes with her mum back to their B&B.
When Mum and I get home, I go to bed exhausted. I sleep for twelve hours straight.
My tongue is rough from dehydration when I wake up. I have a shower and go down to the kitchen. Mum is there waiting for me with a pot of tea. I wonder how many pots she’s made over the past few hours, hoping I’d wake up. We both know that without Amy, I wouldn’t be here right now.
Mum and I sit in the kitchen for ages drinking tea, eating bacon sandwiches with brown sauce, enjoying the quiet, gentle routine. Pixi jumps on my lap, purring as I stroke her.
‘How are you feeling today?’ Mum asks.
‘A bit stunned at everything that’s happened. Grateful too. I hope Thomas and Gemma are doing well. I feel really bad about taking him, hurting her when she didn’t deserve it.’
‘It must have been traumatic for her when you didn’t return her baby and she wasn’t sure of your intention, but I think you may have saved her.’
‘I was so angry with Cole. Why couldn’t I see what he was really like?’
‘Some people are good at hiding their true selves. He was cunning and manipulative. Don’t blame yourself. People like that hook you in emotionally so they can get you to do what they want.’
‘We looked after Thomas really well, at least Amy did most of it. She surprised me in so many ways.’
‘I think the fact that you cared for him went in your favour with the police.’
‘I hope so, we’d never have hurt him. He was actually quite sweet. I didn’t know babies were such hard work, though – and I definitely don’t want one.’
‘Tell me about it.’ A smile lifts her lips momentarily.
I stare into my cup of milky tea, trying to find a way to ask her about my dad.
‘Was that man…’
‘Yes,’ she interrupts, reading my mind, ‘your dad is the person who contacted the TV show. His name is Lewis.’
‘Oh.’
‘I didn’t want you to ever know about him.’ Her head dips and she curls both hands around her mug. ‘I couldn’t see how you’d benefit from it. But maybe I was wrong and Tina was right, I should have told you sooner.’
‘It’s okay, I know you were looking out for me.’
‘Maybe I was too scared how you’d react.’ Mum’s eyes fill with tears.
‘Why scared?’
She shakes her head.
‘Do you have a photo of him?’
I follow Mum to her room and she lifts down the boxes from her wardrobe. She takes out the photos Amy and I looked at before. She sifts through them and places the photo of her sister and husband on their wedding day in front of me on the bed.
‘This is your dad,’ she says. I squint at it and frown at Mum.
‘He was married to your sister?’
‘Yes.’
I pick it up and examine their faces, how happy they were in this moment. ‘What, so he had an affair with you?’
‘No. Absolutely not.’
‘You went out with him first?’
Mum shakes her head, balled-up fist to her lips.
‘Then I… I don’t understand.’
Mum takes both my hands in hers, tears falling down her cheeks. She swallows before she speaks.
‘Jess was your real mum.’
Chapter Seventy-Nine
14 August 2018
Scarlett
I search Mum’s face for some flicker of doubt but there is none. She’s sobbing now, so it must be true. I can’t get my head around what she’s just said. That she’s not my real mum. She pulls me to her and holds me tight.
‘Are you sure?’ is all I can think to say. It seems such a stupid question but I’m at a complete loss.
She pulls back, nodding, holding my hands. ‘I’m so sorry. I told you Jess died young, didn’t I?’
I nod. ‘So what – you’ve been looking after me since then?’
‘Yes. Since you were a baby.’
‘Oh.’ The floor seems to rush up to my eyes. My whole history has been altered.
‘I’ve tried to do my best for you, Scarlett. It’s not always been easy. And I know I’ve not been the greatest mum.’
‘What are you talking about? Yes, you have. You’ll always be my mum.’ I hug her and she hugs me back. ‘But I suppose Jess was my mum too.’
‘Yes, she was. And I’ve wanted to tell you about her but it’s been so hard, too risky.’
‘I don’t understand.’ I pick up the wedding photo and try to find a connection with this woman who gave birth to me. ‘I guess we do look alike, but so do you.’
‘You really look like her. I’ll dig out some more photos of when she was younger, then you’ll see.’
‘What was she like?’
‘She was honestly the kindest, sweetest sister I could have wished for. Always thinking of others before herself. One time she bought me a Rick Astley single with her first pay packet from working as a cashier in Boots.’
‘Did she like reading? What was her favourite music?’
‘She adored reading, just like you. Her favourite song at the time was “Two Hearts” by Phil Collins.’
‘How did she and my dad meet?’
‘I was with her the moment they clapped eyes on each other. We were in Sweet, a nightclub where we lived in Brighton. He sent a glass of champagne over to our table for her. We didn’t know who it was from at first. The barman pointed him out, said it was from a secret admirer. She didn’t want to drink it. Left it on the table and went back to the dance floor. I drank it, though, and I saw him glaring at me from the bar. I had an uncomfortable feeling about him in that split second. They say always go with your gut instinct, don’t they?’
‘How did they get together?’
‘He pursued her. Watched her dancing so she knew he had his eye on her, then danced near her and eventually when the slow dances came on, she couldn’t say no to him because she was flattered by his attention. He was so handsome and knew it. She could hardly believe he’d singled her out. He told her he was shy and that’s why he’d sent the drink over. There was nothing shy about him, so I knew he was playing a game. He sent her flowers the next day, wined and dined her and by the end of the first month it was hard to prise them apart. She stopped coming out with me and the girls and spent every moment with him. I’d catch his eye now and again and he’d have this smug look on his face as if to say, I’ve got her now, she’s mine. And she wouldn’t hear a bad word against him. He told her she was beautiful, yet he started to question who she was hanging around with, what music she listened to, what she was wearing. Little comments dropped here and there, always with a concerned face and a charming smile, so it was hard for her to disagree with him. Isn’t that a bit revealing? You wanna look classy, don’t you? Only sluts dress like that. He’d glance at me when he said it. Are you trying to make me jealous? Do you want other men ogling at you?’
‘Didn’t she realize what he was doing?’ I think of Cole commenting on my clothes, always qu
estioning the length of my skirts.
‘She said she could see his side of it. That him being as jealous as he was showed how much he loved and needed her.’
‘God, that’s exactly what I thought about Cole.’
‘You had a lucky escape then. Lewis told Jess a pack of lies about being brought up in a children’s home so he had no one who loved him until she came along. I tried to tell her that he didn’t own her and shouldn’t say the things he did. But she was always trying to put herself in the other person’s shoes to understand how they were feeling. She saw him as an injured bird that needed caring for. She was the sort of person who listened to people’s stories of woe and would never make assumptions about them like some people do. And she really believed she was in love with him.’
‘When did they get married?’
‘Only about eight months after they first met. He planned it all. She thought it was sweet that he wanted to take control, told us he was a new man not expecting her to do it all. But by then he’d started to control everything she did.’
‘That’s what Cole did to Gemma. He sprung the wedding on her so she couldn’t even tell her parents.’
‘I think it takes a while to realize the person you love is taking over your life. Lewis insisted on seeing her wedding dress to make sure it was to his liking. She told him it was unlucky to see it before the big day and that he’d have to wait like everyone else.’ Mum’s voice catches in her throat. ‘Sorry, it’s just that she told me this from her hospital bed. The bruises on her body were horrific. She had a deep cut on her arm, but she insisted she cut it on a glass she dropped in the kitchen. Left a nasty scar. When I asked her outright, did he do this, she couldn’t physically answer me, it was as though he was in the room with us holding his hands around her throat. She swore blind he didn’t do it.’
‘Bloody hell. Didn’t the hospital ask questions?’
‘She told them she’d fallen over. They had to accept that. I don’t think there was much they could do if she didn’t want to report it to the police.’
‘Did you go to their wedding?’
‘I did but only to try and talk her out of it. It had to be put back and rearranged because of her being in such a bad way, so in the end it was very low key, a registry office ceremony and buffet lunch at a pub afterwards with a few friends he’d selected. He’d got his way and seen the dress she chose. Too revealing for his liking, apparently, so he’d picked another one out for her. It didn’t really suit her. Well, you’ve seen the photo. It wasn’t the most flattering dress, high neck lace and ridiculous fishtail and flounces.’
‘I must admit I did sneak a look in this box.’
‘I guessed you had.’
‘I assumed it was you when I first saw the wedding photo, but then I was puzzled about the mark on your arm.’
‘We did look very alike. I’ve got some more photos in the other box up there. I can get it down if you’re ready for more?’
‘I think I am.’
Mum reaches the box with her fingertips. She slides it towards her and brings it down to the bed. The key is in a small dish on the window sill. She checks my face to see if I’m still okay with this. I nod.
‘You’ve never said how Jess died.’
‘No.’ Mum turns away, fussing with unlocking the box.
‘Please, I need to know.’ I reach for her arm and she stands in front of me, taking my hands in hers again, but she looks everywhere except at me. Her skin is cool and smooth despite the heat. She takes in a deep breath, kisses both my palms. Then her hands grip mine tight, as though she’s clinging to me over the edge of a mountain to save me from falling. My stomach flips.
‘There’s no easy way to say this. Your mum was murdered.’
Chapter Eighty
14 August 2018
Scarlett
‘What, how?’
‘Your dad killed her.’ Mum sobs, eyes screwed up with instant tears.
My body jolts violently, as though the ground beneath me has cracked open and I’m tumbling down a dark hole. I drop to the floor and dig my nails into the carpet. My whole life is disintegrating in front of me. Everything I’ve ever known was constructed from this violent secret. It’s all been a pack of lies.
‘I’m so, so sorry.’ Mum kneels next to me and wraps me in her arms, stroking my hair. ‘I didn’t want you to find out, ever. But I’m scared he knows your name now, what you look like.’
My head is floating. Nothing will ever be the same because now I know the truth: my dad killed my mum.
‘Why?’ I hear my voice, but it doesn’t sound like me. Mum holds me tight and we rock backwards and forwards.
‘We’ll have to move away, start over again.’
‘I thought he was in prison.’
‘He’s up for parole next year.’
My head is splitting open and a pain is stabbing the back of my eye. I’m grateful I didn’t know before now so I could grow up happy and carefree. Ignorance really was bliss.
I take a deep breath and sit on the bed. ‘Can you tell me how it happened?’
Mum sits next to me and lets out a sigh that sounds like she’s been holding it in all my life, anticipating this moment.
‘Jess’s next-door neighbour found her lying on her side in the kitchen. Lewis had run out of the front door a few moments before, holding his hands up dripping with blood, screaming his head off at half one in the morning. Jess was trying to leave him. We had it all worked out. He said he was innocent. That he found her dead. But he’d stabbed her once with a kitchen knife.’ She presses her hand to her mouth. I rub her arm. ‘I tried so hard to help her get away from him, but he wouldn’t let me near her. He took her phone away and was keeping her locked in the house.’
‘That’s crazy, she must have been so scared,’ I sob and stare at myself in the dressing-table mirror, trying to imagine being Jess for a second, what it must have felt like living with someone so dangerous. I think of Gemma with Cole. Is that how it would have ended for them?
‘What do you think made him do it?’
Mum cups my face and strokes my hair. ‘It was because she threatened to leave him and he couldn’t allow that. It’s all about power, control. I helped her plan her escape. I found her a safe house to go to. They were all ready and waiting for her. I dropped a new mobile through her letterbox and some cash which she hid, but the night she planned to leave, he found them and worked out what she was up to. She’d just texted me to say she was on her way out of the back door. That was the last I heard from her. The next thing I knew, she was dead.’
‘Jesus, and I guess you knew it was him straight away.’
‘The women’s refuge told us it’s always dangerous when a victim tries to leave their abuser because they’re losing control of them.’
‘Do you really think they’ll let him out? Can’t we appeal against it?’
‘I think it would be better to move.’ She opens the box and lifts out more photos. ‘I collected everything about the case, all the newspaper cuttings, court reports, interviews. I thought if you ever found out and wanted to know about it, it would all be here. I knew one day he’d be released and that you may be forced to deal with it. I’ve not looked in here for years, not since you were a baby.’
I sit on the bed and go through a small bundle of photos of Jessica and Lewis with each of their parents. She looks so small next to him. I search her face for some kind of recognition that this is my mum. I’m desperate to find a connection, but nothing comes and an ache spreads over me. To think what he did to her sickens me to the stomach. What kind of man does that? Beats a woman physically half his size and weaker than him. Presumably in front of me, his baby daughter. What a sick fucking bastard. Just like Cole. I should probably be grateful he didn’t kill me too. I pick up a photo of Mum holding me at my christening, I didn’t even know I’d been christened.
‘Isn’t there one of Jess holding me?’
‘Erm, I don’t think so.’ She f
licks through a few photos.
‘She was religious, was she?’
‘A bit. She got that from our gran. Our parents weren’t regular churchgoers. Jess always had this dream of dressing you up in a beautiful christening gown, holding you in the church in front of the font. She loved traditional things, family values. He ripped all that apart.’
‘Did she go to college or work?’
‘When she met your dad, she was working in the big Debenhams in Brighton as manager of women’s wear. She loved her job, but that was one of the first things he stopped her doing. Said she didn’t need to work when he had such a good wage selling insurance. He told her it would be better for her to stay at home and look after the house and family. It seemed a luxury to her. But she wasn’t one to sit around watching television or going to coffee mornings. She’d always talked about starting her own jewellery business and she thought it was the perfect opportunity, so she agreed to leave her job. But as soon as she did, he made her believe she wasn’t good enough to be a businesswoman, that she was getting above herself to think she could design and make her own pieces of jewellery. “Who’d want this crap?” I heard him say to her once. He hardly gave her any money for food, and she’d have to beg him if she needed new shoes or underwear. But whenever I challenged her about it, she made excuses for him, saying they had to watch every penny. When I last saw her, there were holes in her clothes. If I tried to give her anything, he’d chuck it in the bin, tell her they didn’t need hand-outs, that I was trying to embarrass him, make her think he couldn’t provide for her. He had an answer for bloody everything.’
I flick through each photo in turn then go through them all again.
‘What are you looking for?’ Mum gives a little cough into her balled-up fist, a thing she does when she’s nervous about something.
‘I can’t find any of me with them.’
Mum blinks rapidly, knots her fingers together.
The Face At the Window Page 27