The Au Pair

by Emma Rous

  I closed my eyes as we pulled away, but the image of Summerbourne’s honey-colored bricks bathed in swirling blue light haunted my dreams from that night onward.

  Ruth was dead. Kiara was taken. Dominic had no idea that Seraphine wasn’t his. Vera had met both Danny and Seraphine, but I suspected a seed of doubt about their identities had been planted in her mind. And as for Alex—down the road in his cottage, falling in love with a baby that would never be reclaimed but who wasn’t his—what had I done to Alex?

  It’s best for the children, I told myself, repeatedly, as the taxi bore me away. I was convinced that Kiara would be doted on by Alex. And I had to trust that Danny would be safe alongside Edwin and Seraphine—his half brother and his non-sister—within the golden walls of Summerbourne. I had to believe that Vera, Dominic, and Alex would always protect those children as if they were their own.

  33

  Seraphine

  LAURA’S FINGERS CURL around her locket while she talks, but they return to her lap when she stops. We sit in silence as her final words sink in, and I suspect we are all trying to process the same mental image: pulses of blue light on yellow bricks, the two babies that half belonged, the one baby that was taken.

  Laura rests her gaze on the coffee table in front of her while she waits for us to gather our thoughts, and I blink with recognition. I have seen this same stillness in Danny when he’s preparing for me to grill him for information.

  “And did the police question you the next day?” Kiara asks eventually.

  Laura nods. “They came to see me at Mum’s. I was in bed. I told them I didn’t know why Ruth had run to the cliffs. I didn’t know which private doctor she had seen in London. I didn’t know what had upset her.”

  Alex passes a hand over his eyes.

  “And Dad never knew I wasn’t . . . ?” I ask, my heart squeezing when I say his name as if I’m betraying his memory. I am not the betrayer, I remind myself.

  Laura’s forehead creases. “I really don’t think so. I don’t think the possibility you might not be his would ever have crossed his mind.”

  “And you never told anyone?” Danny asks. He doesn’t look at her directly. “You never tried to get us back?”

  “I—” Laura’s hand creeps up to her locket. “After Vera wouldn’t listen to me, I thought—what would I achieve by telling anyone? I had nothing to offer you, either of you. Beaky would have kicked me out if I’d taken you back there. You were better off where you were, with people who could look after you. And after the first year or two . . . I mean, how could I?”

  Danny grunts. “So you—what? Moved on with a clear conscience?”

  Laura gazes at him, but he won’t meet her eye.

  “Do you have other children?” Kiara asks.

  “No, I—” Laura presses herself farther back into her chair. “I stayed inside at my mum’s house for months afterward. I didn’t tell them anything about you, of course. I literally stayed in bed for weeks. I didn’t care about anything—I didn’t have any emotions about anything.” She breathes deeply, in and out. “My mum was so worried, at one point she asked my aunt to come and see me. But they’re twins, my mum and my aunt, and they’d barely spoken in years, and it just made it worse—reminded me what I’d done. What I’d lost.”

  “What about your exams?” Edwin asks.

  “Three As.” She sighs. “But that was it. I couldn’t face going out to the shops for a long time, let alone the thought of moving to another city, starting a degree course. I got a job with a local company eventually, when I started feeling stronger. In a small office, part-time at first. It took me another year to save up enough money to move out.”

  “And after that?” Alex asks.

  Laura shakes her head at him wordlessly. The silence lengthens, but just as it seems she’s going to offer no further reply, she opens her mouth.

  “I’ve been alone ever since,” she says.

  Alex leans back and closes his eyes as if he’s in pain.

  Edwin is hunched on his chair at Laura’s side, glancing frequently at the phone on the coffee table. He spoke to Martin briefly while I was persuading Danny to come back inside earlier, and Martin told him he might be allowed a short visit with Vera before the end of the day. I know Edwin’s desperate to see her, but I’m not sure I’ll want to go with him, and I doubt Danny will either.

  Danny shifts restlessly on the sofa next to me as though he’s considering leaving again. I reach out and touch his arm, but he shakes me off, turning on me.

  “You know this is all your fault, don’t you?” His eyes are red rimmed, furious. “You heard what Martin said—Vera was here, arguing with Dad, and then she—” He waves a hand.

  Edwin’s voice is sharp. “Danny. Stop.”

  Danny ignores him, and continues to glare at me. “I bet Dad was dreading having to tell us I wasn’t Ruth’s son. But because of you he felt he had no choice. If he didn’t say anything, he knew Vera would give Summerbourne to me, and then you’d make all our lives hell. If you weren’t so fixated on this bloody house, there wouldn’t have been an issue, and they wouldn’t have argued, and Vera wouldn’t have—”

  “Danny!” Edwin roars.

  My jaw hangs open. The injustice is like a slap to the face.

  “Take that back,” Edwin says to Danny. “We’re not discussing what Gran’s accused of until we know the facts. And none of this is Seraphine’s fault.”

  Joel slides his hand over mine, and I lean against him, keeping my eyes on Danny as he breathes rapidly, inches away from me, curling and uncurling his fingers. He won’t look at me, and my chest feels too tight, and I fight back tears.

  “Edwin’s right,” Alex says suddenly, and even Danny looks at him, startled. I hold my breath. Is Alex about to defend me? Can I bear it if my stranger father has to protect me from the twin brother I have lost all claim to?

  “None of this was Seraphine’s fault,” Alex says. “It was all Vera’s fault.”

  Danny rocks in his seat, and it’s almost as if he’s nodding. Joel’s arm is warm against mine, and I close my eyes for a moment, thinking about the charges against Vera.

  “Do you really think that?” I say, and I try to look directly at Alex, but it’s easier to let my gaze skip to each of the others. “I mean, really? Can you really believe Vera would have done those things?”

  Edwin opens his hands in a pleading gesture. “Come on. We need to be on Gran’s side. Who’ll defend her if we won’t? What chance will she have? There are no witnesses—no one saw any of it.”

  Next to me, Joel clears his throat. “Actually, that’s not quite true.”

  Edwin stares at him. “What?”

  “That no one saw any of it,” Joel says. “That day—we hid in the tower, do you remember? Your mum and your gran and my grandad—they were all shouting. Your gran told my grandad to go away, and he did, but we hid in the tower, you and me.”

  Edwin frowns. “The robin.”

  Joel’s voice is soft. “We locked ourselves in. They were shouting, screaming at each other, Ruth and Vera. We were scared. You stayed at the bottom, Edwin, but I went up to the top and I saw them.”

  “‘The robin’s dead,’” Edwin says slowly. “That’s what Gran was shouting. And, ‘Theo’s dead. I can’t lose another one.’” He leans back on the chair. “Robin. Mum’s brother who died.”

  Joel sighs. “I don’t remember that.”

  “What then?” Edwin says. “What did you see from the top?”

  “The thing is,” Joel says, “I don’t remember it. But last night, after Martin found out about Vera arguing with your dad, he dug out all the statements from when your mum died. And he came to see me because he found something that Grandad had said . . .”

  “Go on,” Edwin says.

  “When Grandad was putting me to bed that night—just a few hours
after your mum died—I told him I saw—” Joel raises his palms. “Apparently, I told him I saw your gran push your mum over the edge.”

  Edwin stares at him.

  “I’m sorry,” Joel says.

  Edwin makes an effort to relax his muscles, forcing his shoulders down.

  “That’s what Martin meant by reviewing old evidence?” Edwin says eventually. “Hardly something that would stand up in court. The word of a four-year-old child, reported by a man known for telling tall stories.”

  Joel doesn’t flinch. “I know.” He continues to look Edwin in the eye. “And maybe I was wrong. Maybe what I saw was your gran trying to catch your mum. The police evidently dismissed it at the time.”

  Edwin tilts his head back, thinking. Next to me, Danny shakes his head.

  Alex clears his throat. “You know, Vera always was the pack leader. She must have been so happy when Dominic told her the family had twins again. If Ruth told her, on the cliffs, that she’d only had one baby, that she’d done something terrible . . . Vera must have seen her dream of having new twins at Summerbourne about to be snatched away from her.”

  Kiara stares at him as if she hardly knows him. “That doesn’t mean she pushed her.”

  Alex has the grace to look uncomfortable. I study him surreptitiously. This man is my father; he loved my mother, and he fought with her—over me. I drop my gaze when I realize Kiara is watching me. When Alex speaks again, he focuses only on Joel, as if finally remembering who he is, or who he was all those years ago.

  “Your grandfather,” Alex says. “Michael. He still lives here? What did he say about his old statement when Martin dug it out?”

  Joel tenses. I twist my hand under his so I can hold on to him.

  “He wasn’t lucid,” Joel says. “He has dementia. He rambled on about twins and witches’ cloaks and stolen babies.” He lifts his chin and looks at me rather than at Alex. “It made me think—Grandad’s obsession with the twin stories, and people falling over the cliff. I think that’s where my nightmares about Theo came from. I mixed up my memories of seeing your mother fall with Grandad’s stories, and started worrying that everything was my fault.”

  I squeeze his hand, not knowing what to say. Perhaps if one good thing comes from all this, it will be that Joel can finally put the gruesome childhood tales about our family behind him.

  “Poor Michael,” Laura says.

  Edwin makes a noise in his throat. “Just—let’s remember,” he says. “Like Joel said, Michael’s statement might not reflect the truth. Gran might have been trying to catch Mum.”

  “I don’t think so,” Alex says.

  The dining chair rocks backward as Edwin leaps to his feet. He looms over Alex, his fists curled.

  “That’s because you want to pass the blame,” Edwin snarls. “It’s your fault Mum was out there in the first place. Gran had no reason to push her. Much more likely she jumped—because of you.”

  “Hey,” Joel springs up and catches hold of Edwin’s arm. “This isn’t helping.”

  Kiara shrinks farther into her corner of the sofa, away from both Edwin and Alex, her eyes wide. Edwin takes a step back.

  “I agree with Alex,” Danny says suddenly.

  Edwin turns on him. “You’re talking about Gran here.”

  Danny’s voice is a roar. “She’s not my grandmother!”

  Edwin sways as if he’s been punched. Laura holds a hand over her mouth. I feel all alone suddenly, with Joel up by Edwin and Danny radiating fury on the sofa next to me. Danny is so sure Vera’s guilty, and Edwin is so desperate to believe she isn’t. I feel trapped in the middle, uncertain and isolated.

  Kiara looks across at me.

  “Do you think she did it?” Kiara asks me. “Do you think she killed them? Your mum, and your—your dad?”

  I want to hug her for calling him my dad. The others look at her, and then look at me. Danny’s real twin sister will be much better for him than I ever was, I think. I draw a shuddery breath.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “She said she knew something about us wasn’t right. But she never knew exactly what. Why would she go to such extreme lengths when she didn’t even know what the secret was?”

  “Because she was frightened,” Laura says quietly, curling her fingers around her locket again. “Vera was frightened that if the truth came out—whatever it was—it would tear your family apart.”

  There is a pause, and then Danny says, in a voice that starts off low but swells to fill the room, “Well, it looks like she was right.”

  I stand up then, and I look from Danny to Edwin, and I am filled with more certainty than I’ve felt about anything since Dad died.

  “We need to talk to Vera,” I say. “Ring Martin again, Edwin. If she’s innocent, she needs a chance to explain. If not, we deserve to know the truth.”

  34

  Seraphine

  MARTIN IS WAITING for us at the imposing redbrick police station in King’s Lynn, and he accompanies us into the interview room where Vera sits. Her back is straight and her chin is high. I try to read her expression, but my heart thuds painfully every time I come close to meeting her gaze, and I find myself scrutinizing the rest of the room instead: the camera in the corner, the mug of pale tea by Vera’s elbow, the row of three unpadded chairs that we hover behind. It’s uncomfortably warm in here.

  Vera draws her face up into a smile. “Darlings.” She gestures at the mug. “They’ve run out of Earl Grey, can you believe it?”

  “Sit down, please,” Martin tells us. “Mrs. Blackwood, you have ten minutes.”

  We waste the first sixty seconds in silence, and I stare at my hands in my lap. It takes all my will not to leap up and run out of the room, and I have to remind myself that I can do that at any point if I want to. Vera can’t. Vera has no option but to stay here and endure this.

  And then she speaks. “I admit it.”

  Martin shuffles his feet in the corner of the room, and Vera shoots him an annoyed look.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Martin, not your ridiculous charges,” she snaps. “The sooner we get those dropped the better. No.” She composes herself. “I admit I wanted to persuade Laura not to talk to you because I was afraid she knew something about you, something about your birth. I was just trying to protect you. As far as I’m aware, that isn’t a crime.”

  I glance at Edwin, wondering if he’ll say something, but his expression is watchful, guarded.

  Vera sighs. “I always knew it was possible that one of you wasn’t Ruth’s. After what she said on the cliffs. But—it didn’t matter, don’t you see? I didn’t want to know the details. And I certainly didn’t want Laura telling you the details.” She pauses, twists her rings. “But I admit I went about it in a—” She pauses again, and tilts her chin a fraction higher. “In a poorly thought-out way. Which I’m sorry for. But I certainly didn’t hurt anyone on purpose.”

  “A poorly thought-out way?” Danny makes an incredulous noise in his throat. “You dropped a stone on her head. You tried to set her on fire.”

  When Vera looks at him, she ignores his words entirely, and if anything, her expression is wistful.

  “My Summerbourne summerborns,” she says, and she smiles. “You know, I was sure at first that Seraphine must be Ruth’s baby—she was out there with Ruth on the cliffs when I got there. And I was frightened when Ruth said she’d done something terrible, that maybe she’d stolen you, Danny. From a stranger, from the travelers, I didn’t know. I listened to the news every night for months, waiting for a kidnap story, waiting for the police to swoop and seize you.”

  Danny shudders. I glance at Edwin again, wondering if we should tell Vera the truth right now, but I want to hear what she has to say first. My new knowledge of our identities is painful, but my uncertainty over Vera’s guilt or innocence feels like a heavier burden in this stuffy little room.<
br />
  “You were so tiny and weak, at first,” Vera tells Danny. “I worried, about who you were, where you’d come from. But then—as you grew, I changed my mind. You looked so much like Edwin and Theo, it was obvious you were their brother. I relaxed, began to forget. And you, Seraphine—”

  When Vera turns her gaze to me, her smile broadens, and I’m shocked to feel tears rolling from my lashes.

  “You reminded me so much of Ruth at times,” she says. “So I made myself forget. I was desperate to forget all those doubts I had at the beginning. Of course you were both our children.”

  Danny clears his throat next to me. “Tell us what happened with Dad.”

  Vera nods. “We did argue that morning. It’s true. I didn’t want to say after the accident, because I realized . . . how it might look. It seemed unnecessary.” She sighs. “Dominic told me there was something he wanted to tell us all—before I made a decision about Summerbourne.”

  She glances at Martin, and I am gripped by a sudden cold suspicion that she’s calculating exactly how much of the conversation Ralph might have overheard.

  “Dominic mentioned Laura’s name,” she says. “I was—worried. I may have raised my voice a little—but only because I wanted him to tell me straightaway, and he insisted on waiting until we were all together. That’s what Ralph must have heard—the silly boy parked up by Michael’s cottage, so we didn’t hear him coming.”

  “And then?” Danny says.

  “I felt bad immediately, of course. As soon as I’d sent Ralph away, I apologized to Dominic. And then, we discussed party plans for the weekend. The argument was forgotten.”

  Edwin frowns. “And what did you think Dad’s announcement was going to be?”