The Vow - Debbie Howells Page 0,71
known she would, rushing at me, trying to grab the photos. But as she wrestled them from me, one of them fell to the floor. When she picked it up, the glass had cracked.
‘Never mind.’ My words were loaded with cynicism. ‘I’m sure you’ll think up a way to cover yourself. Back to your question, as to why I’m here.’ Dropping the act, I leaned towards her until my face was inches from hers. ‘I’ve come to tell you what my life has been like, ever since your sister died. Ever since your bloody gran told my parents. They sent me away, Amy. Not to some nice private school like you might have gone to, but to some vile prison camp where I was bullied. For three years my life was hell. After that, guess what? It got even better.’ My voice took on a mocking tone. ‘Did you hear they disowned me? Imagine – nowhere to go at Christmas, no birthday cards, no friendly phone calls, just to see how you are, darling.’ Not just that, but they disinherited me, too. When the wealthy old bastards die, I get nothing.’
‘And you blame me?’ A look of contempt crossed her face. ‘If you think it’s my fault, you’re talking rubbish.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I take that back. You’re insane. You know as well as I do what actually happened that day. You can’t walk in here and put it on me. Not when it was all down to you.’
I stared at her, unflinching, until she looked away. Then I laughed, a harsh sound, devoid of humour. ‘You know, I’ve heard of this. People who convince themselves of something, when in actual fact it’s a lie. But I’ve never seen it for myself before. You’re weak, Amy. You could convince yourself of anything. You don’t even realise you’re doing it, do you? You’re one of those people who actually believe their own bullshit.’ Angrily, with a single hand, I swept a pile of letters off a shelf onto the floor. Then taking a deep breath, I tried a different tack. ‘We need to talk, don’t we?’ I tried to sound persuasive. ‘You need to face up to what you did. Then maybe we can both put it behind us – for good.’
‘You have a nerve coming here.’ Amy stared at me. ‘We have nothing to talk about. I never want to see you again. Get out.’
‘Ooo,’ I was taunting her. ‘Ever so slightly losing it, are we?’
‘This is my house.’ Amy’s voice was hostile, her body rigid. ‘Don’t come here again. If you do, I’ll call the police.’
I stood there for a moment, challenging her. ‘I don’t believe for one moment you’d actually do that.’
‘Who do you think they’d believe?’ Her eyes blazed into mine. ‘My life is sorted. Yours clearly isn’t.’ As she speaks, her eyes deliberately linger on my hair, my clothes. ‘You might wear the right clothes, but I wouldn’t mind betting that underneath, you’re the same as you always were. Reckless, acting first, thinking later …’
‘You have no idea who I am,’ I snarl at her. ‘You just wait. One of these days it will be me people listen to – I’ll make sure of it. You won’t have a chance. You’ll regret the way you treated me.’
‘Are you surprised?’ This time, she sounds outraged. ‘After what you did?’
‘You may have convinced yourself otherwise, but we both know who is the guilty one. But if you want me to, I’ll go.’ I hesitated. ‘Just so long as you know you haven’t heard the last of this.’ Picking up my bag, I walked towards the door. Just before opening it, I turned around briefly. ‘There are two sides to every story. Don’t ever forget that.’
‘But there’s only one version of the truth,’ I heard her call after me just before I slammed the door. As I walked away, I wondered if she’d sunk into one of her velour armchairs, with God knew what going through her head. I hadn’t wanted to lose it, but for too long there’d been an imbalance between us, one it was time to redress. Sweet, innocent little Amy who got off scot-free, while my entire life had collapsed around me. Well, she wasn’t getting away with it any longer.
Knowing she’d done everything in her power to prevent our paths from crossing again, I had no doubt my visit would have shaken up her cosy little world. She might have thought she