I’m in the house on my own with him. I glance at the door, which he must have closed behind him. It’s only a few paces away, but with him blocking my path it seems like miles.
‘I’m sorry if you feel like that,’ I say quickly. ‘But I think it’s best if you leave.’
He doesn’t move. ‘You’ve got problems. Serious problems.’ I think about my phone on the side in the kitchen. If only I could reach it and call for help. A tear trickles down my cheek.
‘You’re pathetic. Stay away from me and Danielle or I’ll go to the police. Consider that a warning.’ And then he thumps his hand into the wall, strides to the front door and lets himself out.
Forty-Two
Danielle
On my drive back from work, I think about Beth. I haven’t seen her this week. Not at my office, not outside my house, not at the supermarket. I’m always looking over my shoulder, whenever I see a shadow or sense someone behind me. But she’s not there. The police didn’t help when I called them. But Peter has. He went to see her and I haven’t heard anything from her since. I smile. My rescuer. I imagine having his baby, a smiling, happy family of three. Things are looking up. Beth was the one I’d paid to help me, but it was my own husband who I could depend on all along.
When I pull into my driveway it’s already 11 p.m. and I doubt anyone will be up. I’ve had another long day at work and I’m exhausted. But there’s a light on in the living room. I hope it’s Peter, not my mother.
‘Hi,’ I call out tentatively as I open the door.
‘Hello.’ Peter appears in the doorway of the living room.
‘About to go to bed?’ I ask him as I take off my shoes.
‘Not yet. We need to talk.’
‘Is this about Beth?’ I go into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water and he comes with me. I think Beth’s stopped following me. I look at him and see the troubled expression in his eyes. Does he know something I don’t?
‘No, it’s not about Beth—’
‘If it’s about me working too hard, then I promise I’ll have more time after the appeal’s been heard. You know how important it is that we prove my client’s innocence. He only has us to help him. He has no family at all over here. Once the appeal’s over then I’ll relax a bit more. Make sure I’m fighting fit for the baby.’ I put my hand on my stomach.
‘That’s what you always say. But there’s always another case. More work. Another wrongful conviction. Plus your day job too. You can’t keep going on like this.’
I nod. I know he’s right. ‘Can we discuss this another time? I’m exhausted.’
‘We can talk about that later. I wanted to talk about your mother.’
‘What about her?’
‘She can’t answer a straight question. A bit like you. You’re both hiding something.’
I swallow. ‘Let’s not argue now,’ I say wearily, hoping we can leave this conversation for another day, when I’m more prepared for it.
‘Were you ever going to tell me, Dani?’
‘Tell you what?’
‘She’s not who you say she is. There was a letter to her, in the post. To Virginia Loughton.’
‘Oh.’ I feel light-headed, tiny specks dancing in front of my eyes, and I grip the kitchen counter to steady myself. It feels like all the troubles in my past are chasing me down, determined to ruin the life I’ve built for myself.
‘At first I thought it was to the wrong address. I put it on the side to post it back to the sender later. But when I came back downstairs, it had been opened. She was reading it.’
‘I can explain—’
‘The name had sounded familiar but at first I couldn’t think why. But then I remembered the case. It was when I was training. It was all over the papers. I thought I recognised her face from somewhere, but I just assumed it was because she had a familiar-looking face. But that wasn’t it. She’s Virginia Loughton. She hasn’t been in Sweden, she’s been in prison.’
My hands grip the work surface. ‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry.’
Peter’s face falls. ‘But you said she had a breakdown and she left you in foster care. You said you were estranged.’
‘As good as. We were estranged because she was in prison.’ I’ve dreaded this moment for years, dreaded him finding out. But I’ve held the secret