The Other Daughter: An addictive psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist Page 15

  ‘I have to call them, Caty. There’s no other choice.’

  ‘There’s always a choice. We have a choice. Please! It was an accident!’

  ‘You’re in shock, Catriona. A deep, dark, horrible shock. We both are. I can’t get my head round any of it. I can’t even believe it’s real.’ He’s panting now, gasping. ‘I need to call them so we can sort this all out. We can’t do this on our own. We have to tell them what’s happened. God help you, I know it was an accident, but…’ He tails off for a moment and stares at the wall as though searching for answers. ‘That girl out there in Gracie’s bed’ – his voice breaks – ‘that was just you trying to make things right. But it’s no good. You can’t do that to another family. You can’t take someone else’s child to replace your own. No one can replace our beautiful Gracie. No one!’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No! No buts. We’re doing this.’ Darren unlocks his phone.

  Catriona’s head swims and she realises that if her boyfriend makes the call, he will be ruining any chance she’ll ever have at happiness. They’ll take Grace away and her room will lie empty forever. Catriona will have to face things that no mother should ever have to face. ‘Don’t do it, Darren,’ she pleads. ‘If you love me, don’t do it.’

  ‘Sorry. You know I love you, but I have to.’

  Catriona can’t let that happen. She lunges at him, trying to snatch the phone. ‘Give me it!’ Instead of grasping the phone, she ends up knocking it from his grip and it slides across the laminate floor with a clatter and a scrape. Darren drops down to retrieve it, but before he can get hold of it, Catriona lifts her foot and stamps on the thing with the heel of her boot, feeling the crunch of glass and metal.

  ‘No! What did you do that for?’ Darren picks it up and turns it over in his hands. The screen is now a maze of cracks. He presses a few buttons and swears. ‘Great. It’s broken.’

  ‘I couldn’t let you ring them, Darren.’ The crying from the other room has turned from sobs into wails. ‘Just come with me now and see our little girl. Once you see her, you’ll know I’m right. You’ll feel better about everything, I promise. Come on.’ She tries to take his hand, but Darren recoils from her. Catriona can’t believe it.

  ‘Feel better about everything?’ He shakes his head. ‘You’re crazy! How can we ever feel better about any of this?’ Darren darts around her and slips out of the room. Perhaps he’s changed his mind. Maybe he’s going to see Grace for himself before making a decision. But following him into the hall, Catriona realises she’s mistaken. Darren is reaching for his coat on the peg by the front door.

  Her pulse spikes. ‘Where are you going? Don’t leave!’

  He doesn’t respond, just tugs his coat on and zips it up.

  ‘Darren! We need to decide what we’re going to do.’

  He turns back for a moment, despair in his eyes. ‘There’s nothing to decide. If I can’t call the police, I’ll drive to the station instead.’

  Catriona’s mind races forward to what will happen if the police get involved. Why can’t Darren understand? She has to stop him. He pulls the front door open, letting in the howl of the wind and the lash of rain, the roar of traffic, and the hiss of wet tyres on tarmac.

  He’s halfway out the door already.

  ‘Darren, wait!’

  He stops for a millisecond and she thinks he’s going to relent and come back inside. But their white UPVC front door closes behind him with a hollow click.

  ‘No, no,’ she moans, crossing the hall and pulling the door open again, spatters of cold rain flying into her face. She can’t leave Gracie on her own. She needs to go to her. To comfort her. But she also can’t let Darren speak to the police. She’s wracked with indecision. Darren is a little way down the path now, a dark blur beneath the wavery street lights. She can see his van parked on the opposite side of the street. He dashes into the road. There’s a blaring car horn and a whine of brakes. A sickening thud.

  Catriona’s stomach drops. She stands stock still for a moment. Then, without thinking, she pulls the front door closed behind her and races towards the road, a dull pounding in her gut. The traffic is backed up now and there’s a bright glow of intersecting headlamps. People are staring, pointing. Hands cover mouths, mobile phones are pulled out of raincoat pockets.

  Above the dented bonnet of a dark-coloured car is a cracked, blood-smeared windscreen, and on the ground lies a twisted-up body.

  Darren.

  26

  Now

  I take a sip of water and realise we’re already halfway through my counselling session. It only feels like I’ve been here five minutes. To be honest, we haven’t really covered any new ground, I’ve simply been exploring my feelings about Holly.

  ‘So why now?’ Robin gives me a quizzical look. ‘Why did you decide to tell Matt about Holly after all these years?’

  An image of Bella flashes up in my mind. ‘I’m not really sure.’

  ‘Did something happen to make you want to confide in him?’

  ‘I…’ I break off, not sure what to say. Part of me wants to tell Robin about Bella. Part of me is desperate to share the news with him. But only if he isn’t going to be cynical. And how can I possibly know that in advance? I gaze at an artfully placed fern in a wicker plant pot, wondering if it was Robin who designed this room or if he had help. I wonder if he’s married or has a partner, a family. There are no photos in here. Nothing personal. I’ll have to ask Matt.

  ‘Look, Rachel, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But remember that everything you say here is treated in the strictest confidence.’

  I shift on the sofa and glance across at Robin, who’s giving me a gentle smile. It must take years of practise to perfect that particular smile, which contains just the right combination of encouragement and detachment. It’s like he’s conveying this aura of not being bothered either way, so that I’ll trust him. If he was too pushy, I’d run a mile. I imagine this is some kind of body-language, animal-instinct thing, like not looking directly at a bear. Maybe therapists learn it at counselling college. I decide to trust him.

  ‘Something did happen, actually.’

  Robin waits for me to continue. To give him credit, he keeps his face blank and doesn’t appear remotely smug that I’ve started to open up.

  ‘A couple of weeks ago, a new family started at my daughter’s school.’ My heart starts beating in my ears as I’m transported back to the day I first met the Morrises. I can’t believe it was only two weeks ago. It feels as if this has been weighing on me for months. ‘I got talking to the mum, Kate Morris. She seemed really nice. But then when I saw her daughter…’ I take a breath and pick up my glass for another sip of water. Rain spatters against the window intermittently. The ceiling light flickers. ‘Her daughter is the spitting image of Holly. I don’t mean she bears a passing resemblance – I mean she looks identical.’

  Robin nods thoughtfully. ‘So this girl brought back memories for you?’

  ‘More than just memories. It was like a punch in the stomach. The pain…’ My voice breaks and I have to take a few steadying breaths. I’m not sure I can go on.

  ‘And this is what prompted you to speak to Matt?’

  I nod.

  ‘Remind me, how old was your daughter when she was taken?’

  ‘Two years and eight months.’ I can barely get the words out.

  ‘So this child you saw the other week was a similar age?’

  Robin hasn’t grasped what I’m telling him. He thinks the girl I saw is a toddler. Maybe I should let him continue thinking that. ‘No. Kate’s daughter, Bella, is exactly the same age my Holly would be now.’

  ‘So she looks how you would imagine your daughter to look now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Robin nods and writes in his notepad.

  ‘The thing is,’ I go on, feeling more in control of myself now, ‘she doesn’t just look like her, it’s more than that – her eyes are the same shade of green, h
er face is the same heart shape, she has the same nose, the same freckles, same hair colouring, everything. And her family have just moved here from the same area of London where Holly was taken.’

  Robin’s soft concern falters for a moment as he begins to grasp what I’m telling him. ‘So, what are you saying exactly?’

  ‘I’m saying that there’s a possibility that Bella…’ I already know that this was a mistake. Robin’s features have rearranged into a sympathetic expression that screams doubt and cynicism. Not that I’m expecting him to say anything remotely unsupportive, but he’ll assume I’m some poor deluded cow who’s clutching at straws. ‘Never mind.’ I lean back into the sofa and wish I’d never let Matt persuade me to come here.

  ‘Please, go on.’ Robin’s soft concern is back.

  ‘It’s fine. I know what I’m saying sounds implausible.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. You’re here to tell me how you’re feeling. Not to tell me what you think I want to hear.’

  ‘Fine.’ I sit up straighter. ‘I believe Bella might be my missing child.’ Saying it out loud like that is really quite something. My body feels strangely light, but I feel the air in the room grow heavier.

  Robin’s nodding goes on for quite a while this time. I can see he’s gathering his thoughts. Deciding how to play this. ‘Have you told anyone else your thoughts about Bella?’

  ‘I told Matt.’

  ‘What does he think?’

  ‘Probably the same as you – that I’m mistaken. That it’s just a coincidence.’

  ‘I don’t think anything, Rachel. I’m just here to listen, and for guidance if you need it.’

  ‘Okay, sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay, don’t apologise. Have you mentioned your thoughts to anyone else?’

  ‘No. I can’t. Not without evidence.’

  ‘Have you ever mistaken anyone else for your daughter over the years?’

  ‘Never. The feeling I got when I saw Bella, it was so powerful. I felt as though I’d jumped into another life. The life I was supposed to have with my first daughter. But I’ll never have that, will I? It’s too late. Even if it turns out that Bella really is Holly, she doesn’t know me as her mother. I’m just some random stranger. She’ll never be able to call me “Mum”, will she?’ My voice has grown thick and unstable. I’m no longer choosing my words carefully. They’re rushing out in a torrent of emotion.

  ‘I mean, if Kate abducted my daughter when she was two, then Kate is her mum!’ I spit out my words. ‘This criminal has had the joy of raising my baby.’ I realise I may have gone a bit too far. I might be coming across as a bit unhinged. And I’m not; I’m just a mother trying to be reunited with her child. I attempt to slow my breathing. ‘I mean, I know there’s a slim chance I’m mistaken, which is why I can’t say anything to anyone yet.’

  ‘I can see how meeting Bella has triggered all these old feelings,’ Robin says carefully. ‘You saw someone with the same looks as your child, who’s the same age, from the same area. All these factors together have set off a series of emotions in you.’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s possible that she’s my daughter?’ I’m annoyed with myself for asking the question. It makes me sound desperate and needy, and I don’t want Robin’s pity.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Robin replies. ‘Looking at the odds, it would be quite a coincidence.’

  ‘Unless Kate has sought me out on purpose. Whoever took my child can’t be a mentally stable person, can they? What if she’s moved here to mess with me in some way? To taunt me.’

  ‘Is it just Kate and this daughter? Or does she have other children?’

  ‘She has a husband and two other children. And that’s another thing! She and her husband Shaun have blonde hair, the same as their two younger children. But Bella has dark wavy hair and green eyes. Nothing like them at all, but exactly like my Holly.’

  Robin purses his lips. ‘Not all family members look alike. I have dark hair, but my brother’s hair is light brown.’

  ‘I know. I know all this. It’s just when you add everything together…’

  ‘Look, our time’s up for today, but would you like to have another appointment this week? It seems like there’s a lot we haven’t covered. I have a slot at six on Wednesday, if that’s any good.’

  I can’t believe our time’s up already. ‘I can’t do Wednesday.’ That’s the evening of the Christmas Fayre. I wonder what Robin would say if I told him what I was planning to do. Call the police, probably.

  ‘That’s a shame. I really think we could benefit from talking this through sooner rather than later.’

  ‘How about now? Maybe another half hour?’ I feel wrung out, but there’s still a lot more I want to talk about.

  ‘Unfortunately I’ve got another client coming in fifteen minutes. If you can’t do Wednesday, we’ll have to leave it until next week. But I’ll call if I get a cancellation, okay?’

  ‘Oh, okay.’

  We both get to our feet at the same time.

  ‘At least I didn’t need any tissues this week.’ I give Robin a half-hearted smile, which he tries to return, but his jaw is tight and there are lines etched across his forehead.

  I put my coat on and wind my scarf around my neck, worrying that perhaps I went too far. I know you’re supposed to open up in a counselling session and talk about everything on your mind, but what if I’ve said too much? Also, I probably shouldn’t have mentioned Bella and Kate’s names. Well, it’s too late now.

  ‘Are you parked close by?’ Robin asks. ‘Do you need me to walk you to your car? It’s not very nice out there.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Okay, Rachel. Take care.’

  ‘Bye, Robin. Thank you.’ I leave the cosy warmth of his room and walk down the stairs and out onto the dark, glistening pavement. I try to look at things from Robin’s point of view. Try to see me as he sees me. But I can’t seem to do it. I can only see the reality of my situation. And whatever Robin sees it isn’t the real truth, rather it’s his narrow perception of my life. It’s helpful to talk to him, but I don’t think he gets my situation the way he thinks he does.

  I speed up, anxious to get back to my car and out of the cold. Once I get home, I’m going to have a hot shower and then climb into bed with a book. Escape from it all for a while if I can.

  27

  I park two streets away from the Morrises’ flat and sit in the car for a few moments, contemplating all the different ways that this could go wrong. But if I don’t at least try, then what does that say about the type of mother I am? If Bella is my daughter, I need to know. I need to do everything I can to discover the truth.

  I’ve already called Heidi to let her know I’m ill with a migraine and that I can’t make the school fayre. I’ve assured her that Matt will be along to help out. Heidi was sympathetic, but I could hear the stress in her voice, and I feel terrible for letting her down. My friend Lou-Anne has said she’ll look after Jess and Charlie with her kids until Matt gets to school. So that means I’ve got over three hours until the fayre ends and everyone starts making their way home. Hopefully, this ‘errand’ will only take me half an hour at most.

  I get out of the car and find that my legs are soft and shaky. I hope, now that I’ve gone to all this trouble, that I’m strong enough to actually go through with it. The air is damp and cold, but at least the rain is holding off for now. The smell of salt and vinegar wafts across the road from a nearby fish and chip shop, mingling with diesel fumes and wet tarmac. I lock the car and start walking, my eyes darting everywhere, checking there are no familiar faces. The last thing I need is for someone I know to spot me in this area – I have no cover story, and my mind is so frazzled right now that I can’t even think of anything remotely plausible to explain why I’m here. So I keep my head down and hope that my hood and the fast-falling darkness will shield me.

  I reach the Morrises’ street quickly and do a quick scan of the area. The only people I can see are a wom
an going into her house at the other end of the road, and a couple of teenage girls, their faces caked in severe make-up, walking towards me, but paying me no attention. They’re laughing and looking down at their phones. I pass them without any eye contact.

  I was banking on most people not being home from work yet and luckily it seems I was right. There are very few cars parked, and most of the houses are in darkness. The houses and flats that do have their lights on have their curtains drawn and their blinds pulled down. Everyone is either out or already hunkered down for the evening.

  A dog barks as I walk past one of the houses, making me jump. It sets off a chain of other dogs barking around the neighbourhood. Someone yells at their pet to shut up. I hope there aren’t any dogs in Bella’s building. I don’t remember any barking last time I was here, but I obviously don’t want any undue attention drawn to me.

  Kate’s Fiat isn’t parked out front. I don’t know what car Shaun drives, but Heidi assured me they were both helping out at the fayre, so I reckon I’m ninety-nine per cent safe. In any case, all their lights are off – at least the ones I can see.

  I walk purposefully over to the entrance of the block and go into the same stairwell I walked in with Bella last week. I stand before the same two heavy-duty wooden doors with their safety-glass panels. I’m really regretting not swiping Bella’s key when I had the chance last week. It was right there on the hall table when I went in to use the bathroom. It would have been so easy to slip it into my pocket. Too late now. I’ll just have to improvise. It’s a rough neighbourhood so it’s not out of the question for them to have a break-in. But it would have been less traumatic all round if I could have let myself in and out without arousing any suspicion.

  There’s no obvious way to get in here – no windows or anything, so I walk out of the stairwell and back down the path. The windows at the front are too exposed – I can’t see anyone else in the road, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone looking this way. I can’t take the risk. Instead, I follow the narrow path and slip around the side of the building that’s hidden from view by a row of scrubby bushes.