The Other Daughter: An addictive psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist Page 19

  Through the window, Catriona’s eyes are drawn upwards to the church steeple, dark against the ice-white sky. The thought flickers into her head that she should maybe have planted a tree or a shrub in the church grounds. Marked the spot with something beautiful. But that would have drawn too much attention. And perhaps there should be no reminder as, after all, she does still have her Gracie. She wonders if the spot will ever be discovered. But she can’t think like that. And in any case, she can’t do anything about it now.

  Soon, once she’s out of this flat, she won’t have to think about any of this again. It will be a clean slate. Time will heal everything.

  32

  Now

  The traffic is heavier on the drive back from London, three-lane tailbacks seeming to materialise out of nowhere. I still have three hours before I need to be at school, but at the rate I’m crawling along, it will take at least four.

  My phone buzzes and I glance over at the passenger seat where my mobile sits on top of my handbag. It’s a text from Matt. I wait until the traffic comes to another standstill before quickly glancing at his message:

  Mum’s picking the kids up after school. They’re going to help decorate her tree this evening.

  My shoulders suddenly feel less tense. Thank goodness for Stella! I quickly tap out a reply:

  That’s great. See you later.

  I wait for Matt’s response, but he doesn’t text back. Must be busy at work. At least I don’t have to stress all the way home about missing school pick-up.

  In the end, it takes me over three and a half further hours to get back, so I would definitely have been late.

  Turning into our road, I’m surprised to see Matt’s van parked outside the house. He’s home early. Although the house is in darkness, which is weird. My stomach lurches at the thought of going in and lying to him about where I’ve been all day, making up some story about Christmas shopping. I realise I just can’t do it. I think I’m going to have to come clean. Not about all of it – not about breaking into the Morrises’ flat – but just about where I was today.

  Now that I’m closer to getting the DNA results, I feel like the whole truth is going to come out soon anyway, so I may as well start being more honest. The thought of not holding onto the lies any longer lifts my spirits. I’m a little anxious about how Matt will react, but I’m sure he’ll understand how important it was that I made sure Bella wasn’t in any danger from Shaun.

  The streetlamps are already on and rain spatters my face as I exit the car and stretch out my limbs. I’m not used to driving for such a long period of time. I could do with a walk around the block, but it’s not really the weather for it and now that I’ve decided to be more honest, I don’t want to put off telling Matt where I’ve been.

  I open the front door, happy to be home. I also realise that I’m hugely relieved to have found out Shaun isn’t necessarily dangerous. His prison stay had been really weighing on my mind, my brain conjuring all these awful scenarios, and I’d been fearing for the Morrises’ children’s safety. Knowing they’re not being abused has diffused some of my desperation to get Bella away from him.

  ‘Matt?’ The hallway is dark, as is the rest of the house. But no, I’m wrong, there’s a light on behind the kitchen door. I switch on the hall light and open the kitchen door with a smile on my face. But the kitchen is empty. I shiver, realising the heating isn’t on, so I open the boiler cupboard and override the timer, feeling a flicker of satisfaction at the sound of the system firing up. That will soon get the place toasty.

  But where’s Matt? He must be upstairs getting changed after work.

  I leave the kitchen and peer into the lounge, just in case he’s in here – ‘Matt?’ – but it’s dark, so I turn to go upstairs.

  ‘Hello, Rachel.’

  I jump at the sound of Matt’s voice coming from inside the unlit lounge. ‘Matt, what are doing in here?’ I turn back around and see a dark shape on the sofa. ‘Why are you sitting in the dark?’ I switch on the light and stare at him in confusion. He’s hunched on the sofa, swigging lager from a can. There are several empties scattered around him, some on the sofa, some on the floor, as though he’s just dropped them there without a thought. He doesn’t even look up at me. ‘Matt? What’s wrong? Are the kids okay?’ My limbs start to tingle, and my chest tightens.

  ‘They’re fine. They’re at Mum’s.’ His voice is toneless. It makes me nervous.

  ‘What time are they getting back?’ I really don’t want them walking in and seeing Matt in this state. I start collecting up the beer cans from the floor.

  ‘They’re staying over at Mum’s tonight.’

  ‘What? Why? It’s a school night. They haven’t got—’

  ‘They’ll be fine. Mum’s taking them to school in the morning.’ He sounds annoyed, impatient.

  ‘What about all their stuff? Toothbrushes and pyjamas… Jess has got her guitar lesson tomorrow.’

  ‘I said they’ll be fine.’ His voice has hardened even more. He belches and drops his empty beer can onto the floor. ‘I need another drink.’

  ‘Matt! What’s going on? Why are you drinking in the dark? Why are you talking to me like this?’

  He doesn’t reply, just lumbers to his feet and leaves the room.

  ‘Where are you going?’ My heart pounds uncomfortably as I follow him into the hall and through to the kitchen, where he opens the fridge and pulls out another six pack of beer. I drop the empty cans I’m clutching into the recycling bin and put a hand on his arm. ‘Matt, you’re scaring me. Why are you being like this?’

  He shrugs my hand off and I flinch. I don’t understand what’s going on. Did he find out about me breaking into the Morris’s place? Is that it? My skin goes cold. Maybe if I start explaining. But I don’t know where to start and I don’t even know if that’s the reason he’s acting like this.

  ‘Matt! Talk to me.’

  He breaks a can out of its plastic ring and pulls off the tab, pouring an indecent amount of the liquid down his throat in one go.

  ‘Matt, please!’

  He looks at me for the first time since I got home, but his eyes are glazed and distant.

  ‘Can we sit down and talk?’ I beg.

  ‘We should have talked ages ago. You should have talked.’ Matt gives a bitter laugh and lurches past me back into the living room. He flops back down on the sofa.

  I perch on the arm of the other sofa, uncomfortable and fearful about what he’s discovered. I take a breath and exhale out through my mouth. ‘I went to London today to speak to Kate and Shaun’s old neighbours.’

  ‘What did you do that for, Rachel?’

  His cutting tone is like a knife to my stomach. ‘Why are you speaking to me so horribly? Matt, this isn’t like you.’

  He gives me a look that chills my heart. ‘While you were snooping around in London, I went to see Kate and Shaun today.’

  ‘You went to see Kate and Shaun? Why? Whatever they told you, it’s probably all lies.’

  ‘Lies? So you didn’t break into their house last night?’

  Shit.

  ‘You didn’t smash a window and go into Bella’s bedroom? That’s a lie, is it?’

  ‘I…’

  He shakes his head and takes another slug of beer.

  ‘You followed her home from school, Rachel. She’s a child. Someone else’s child!’

  ‘She’s my child.’

  ‘She’s not your child. She’s nothing to do with you. Look, I was patient and sympathetic because of what you told me about Holly. But you’ve gone too far. You need help.’

  I get to my feet and start twisting my fingers. ‘What did Kate say to you? Did you find anything out about Bella?’

  ‘I know you think Bella is your child, Rachel, but you have to accept that she’s not. You have to stop all this.’

  ‘How do you know she’s not mine? You don’t know.’

  The look Matt gives me is one you might give a stranger – a pitying look filled wi
th disdain. It makes my insides quiver with fear. Doesn’t he love me any more? Has his patience run out after so short a time of knowing my secret? Is this the end of us? My world is tilting and shifting. I feel as though I’m sliding off the edge and I can’t hold on.

  Matt bows his head and rests his forehead on his arms. Like it’s all too much for him. Well maybe it is, but what about me? He doesn’t know what it’s like to lose a child. I really thought he’d be more understanding. I’m gutted at his lack of sympathy.

  ‘She’s mine,’ I insist, even though I know this line of conversation will only push him further away. But I can’t spare his feelings, because I can’t deny my daughter. I can’t do it. Not even to appease Matt. ‘If you could just wait for the results of the DNA test, I’ll be able to prove it to you.’

  He glances up at this, confusion on his face.

  ‘Please, Matt, don’t look at me like I’m crazy. You know me, you know I’m a rational person. But I know in my bones that Bella is Holly. She’s mine.’

  ‘What DNA test? How the hell did you get Bella’s DNA? Christ, is that what you were doing breaking into Shaun’s place?’ He sighs heavily and puts his beer can on the coffee table. ‘I can’t even get drunk properly.’

  ‘What else did the Morrises say?’ I sit back down on the edge of the sofa, chewing the skin around my fingernails.

  ‘I spent the afternoon with them at their place. Sounds like they’ve had a hell of a time recently.’

  ‘They’ve had a hell of a time?’ I shake my head in disbelief at the thought of them all chatting away together. At the thought of Matt going behind my back. Talking about me.

  ‘You’ve really got it wrong about them, Rachel. They were nice. Understanding. I told them what you’d been through and they were shocked.’

  ‘You told them! About Holly?’

  ‘I had to. It was the only way I could explain your actions. People don’t just break into other people’s houses for no reason. When I told them your story, they were lovely. Kate even cried. She said she felt terrible for giving you a hard time.’

  I bite back a retort. I don’t believe her act for a moment. Of course she’d pretend to be sympathetic. What else would she do after Matt told them my suspicions? They’re hardly going to admit to it.

  Matt flexes his fingers. ‘There’s another reason why Kate and Shaun were so cagey when you started talking about Bella at dinner that night…’

  ‘Oh?’ I wait to hear what other lies they’ve fed Matt.

  ‘Bella isn’t their biological daughter. She’s adopted.’

  For a second, I’m not sure I’ve heard right. ‘Adopted?’ I almost laugh. That proves my theory even more.

  ‘It’s not common knowledge,’ Matt continues, ‘and Bella doesn’t know yet, which is why they were understandably upset when you started asking questions about her at dinner.’

  ‘They would say that though, wouldn’t they? They’re not going to admit that they took my daughter! The fact that they’re now saying she’s not even their biological daughter makes me even more sure they’re guilty. They’re just saying she’s adopted to wriggle out of a DNA test.’

  ‘They showed me proof, Rachel. Her adoption papers, baby photos, they even have a baby book with everything documented. I was embarrassed that they felt the need to prove it to me. I told them I didn’t need proof. Poor people. So you see, Rachel, they wouldn’t have all those things if they’d taken her when she was a toddler, would they?’

  ‘Photos? Documents?’ I sneer. ‘Those things are easy to fake. Anyone can put together a few pictures and a baby book. It’s not like Photoshop doesn’t exist!’

  ‘They also said they were willing for you to have a DNA test to prove she’s not your daughter.’

  I daren’t tell him that I’ve already sent off the samples. My shoulders slump. I’m suddenly exhausted. Defeated. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks – more because of Matt’s attitude than anything else. He doesn’t want to comfort me. He isn’t affected by my tears. Instead he’s shifting in his seat, looking at the door like he wants to escape. I can’t believe he would believe the Morrises over his own family. ‘Matt—’

  I’m interrupted by the doorbell. Matt jumps to his feet.

  ‘Is that your mum with the kids? They can’t come in now. I’m a mess. You’re drunk.’

  ‘I’m not drunk. And it’s not my mum.’

  ‘It’s not the Morrises, is it?’ A wave of horror washes over me at the thought of having to have this conversation with them here and now while I’m so upset, while Matt so clearly isn’t on my side. ‘Don’t answer it. Please.’

  But he already has his hand on the lounge door…

  33

  I debate whether to slip out the back door and drive away. Or go and hide upstairs in our room. If it’s the Morrises come over to have it out with me, I can’t face them. I really can’t.

  Matt leaves the room, presumably to answer the door, but then he comes back in for a moment. He gives me an indecipherable look – somewhere between pity and… fear. ‘I’m sorry. Please believe me. I didn’t want to do this, but you’ve gone too far.’

  My chest constricts at his words. ‘Do what? Matt, what are you talking about?’ The doorbell rings once again, accompanied by a sharp rap on the knocker. A chill descends on me as Matt actually starts to cry. What the hell? ‘Matt, what’s the matter? Who’s at the door? Matt, talk to me.’

  He doesn’t reply. Instead, he takes a deep breath, wipes away his tears with his fingertips, squares his shoulders and strides down the hall. I follow him, my heart drumming, terrified that I’m on the verge of having an almighty argument with Kate and Shaun. An argument I simply don’t have the energy for right now.

  ‘Matthew Bernshaw?’ A woman’s voice. Not Kate’s. She’s wearing a long raincoat.

  Over Matt’s shoulder, I also catch sight of the high-vis jacket and black hat of a police uniform.

  My stomach lurches. ‘Is it the children? Are they okay?’ All thoughts of Kate and Shaun are put aside at the idea that something might have happened to Jess or Charlie. I try to hear what they’re saying, but Matt is talking to them in a really low voice and the male uniformed officer catches my eye before looking back at Matt. Finally, Matt steps aside, and everything seems to slow down as I wait for the police to tell me why they’re here.

  The plain-clothes policewoman – at least I assume she’s police – steps into the hall and looks me in the eye. I’m beginning to feel uneasy. The way she’s looking at me isn’t good – not at all. I take a single step backwards to put some space between us. My cheeks are hot and my legs suddenly feel weak.

  ‘Rachel Farnborough, I’m arresting you on suspicion of—’

  I stiffen. ‘You’re arresting me? Matt, what’s going on?’ The woman is still speaking, listing out these things she thinks I’ve done and telling me about my right not to say anything. I can’t make out what she means, it all sounds muffled and strange, as though I’m under water. Surreal, like I’m in some hideous nightmare.

  ‘Matt!’ I look at him for an explanation, but his head is angled away from me. He won’t catch my eye.

  The policeman takes hold of my forearms and places my wrists together in front of me. I’m too dazed to realise what he’s doing and so I keep my hands where he’s positioned them. But now he’s putting cold, metal handcuffs on my wrists. This has to be a joke, surely?

  Suddenly everything speeds back up and my hearing returns as though my ears have just popped. Maybe they think I tried to take Bella. ‘What are you doing? Look, there’s been a mistake. I didn’t try to take Bella Morris. I was only following her to see if she was my daughter. My own daughter was abducted nine years ago.’ I turn to Matt. ‘Matt, tell them. Tell them I didn’t hurt Bella. Tell them about the DNA test. That will prove everything.’

  But Matt isn’t saying anything. He’s really crying now. Tears streaming down his face. His eyes red, his face pale. He doesn’t look like my Matt a
t all. ‘Matt, tell them!’ Why won’t anyone listen to me?

  Then it dawns on me. ‘It’s Kate, isn’t it? Kate must have reported me.’ I glower at the policewoman. ‘Did Kate Morris call you? Whatever she told you, it’s all lies. She’s covering everything up because she has my daughter. She stole her from me. She’s the one you want.’

  But the policewoman doesn’t appear to be listening. ‘Let’s talk about it when we get to the station. Right now, I need you to calm down and come with us.’ She’s trying to make me go with her out of the house. I don’t want to leave. I can’t go. What about the kids? It’s Christmas next week and I haven’t even bought their presents yet.

  ‘It’s the other way around!’ I cry. ‘You’re arresting the wrong person! It’s Kate and Shaun! They’re the ones who stole my daughter! They’re the guilty ones; not me!’ I grab hold of the stair railings with my cuffed hands. If I hold on long enough, they’ll have to listen to me. I’ll make them understand that I’m innocent.

  ‘Can you let go of the bannister, Rachel?’

  ‘Her name is Holly, not Bella! I’m sorry I broke into their house, but I had to get proof!’ I grip on even tighter. I’m not going to budge.

  ‘Rachel,’ she says, ‘you need to let go and come with us.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere. You have to listen to me.’

  ‘We’ll listen to you at the station.’

  ‘No, please. Matt, tell them.’

  ‘If you don’t let go,’ the policewoman says, ‘we’re going to have to remove you by force.’

  I shake my head. She can’t touch me, surely. Something like that must be against procedure. I strengthen my grip as the policeman takes a small black rod from his belt. He gives me a look that says don’t be stupid, but I’ve chosen a course of action now and I won’t back down. This whole thing is outrageous. ‘You can’t make me— Ow!’ I let out a string of expletives. I’m not one to normally swear but that hurt so bad.