My Sister's Child, page 26
‘How?’ It was a hollow whisper.
Dad’s eyes flicked to mine and away. ‘I left a message with the gallery, pretending to be him. I knew she wouldn’t meet me otherwise.’ The scale of deception made me want to vomit. ‘I thought she might run away when she saw it was me, but curiosity got the better of her. She was drunk.’ He gave the half-laugh I knew from old. ‘I can’t recall a time we talked when she was sober.’
‘Why were you there, Dad?’
‘I wanted to ask her why she was back.’ He dragged in a breath, his face distorted. ‘She started saying it was time you knew the truth about everything. I didn’t realize until I saw the message on her phone exactly what she was talking about, but I knew she wanted to hurt you. I told her you didn’t deserve it.’
‘Jesus, Dad. You thought you were doing me a favour?’
He didn’t respond, seeming lost in memory. ‘She didn’t like that. Me putting your feelings first. All I got was a stream of abuse, about what a bastard I was, a liar, a cheat’ – I thought briefly of Caroline – ‘and so on and so on, telling me she’d seen what I was up to, that she knew all about my “other women”.’ Again, his eyes flickered to mine, but it was as if he wasn’t seeing me at all.
‘I thought I’d been discreet,’ he went on. ‘She said she followed me one day, to some pub, and “how would Jess feel if she knew?”’ It was a cruel impersonation of Rachel that brought a swell of fury to my throat. ‘She threatened me. Said there was so much she could tell you, she’d even written it down. It was probably the drink talking. She was swaggering all over the place.’
‘You should have left. At least made sure she got home safely.’
‘She was so angry,’ he continued, almost disbelieving. ‘She said some awful things about …’ He held me in his gaze for a moment, as if considering adding something. Then he lowered his head, kneading his brow with his fingertips. ‘She knew Denny had been following her. I explained it was because I wanted to know how she was, but she wouldn’t have it. Said she’d walked for hours some days, to mess with him.’
Blood rushed to my face. ‘You can’t blame her for that, Dad.’
‘I tried to leave then, I really did. She came after me, slapped me hard around the face and I …’ His breath caught, face twisting with pain. ‘I pushed her, Jess. I never meant her to go in the water. There were no railings. She just went under.’ His eyes were glassy, as though reliving the moment.
‘And you did nothing to help?’
‘I thought she would come up, and I would drag her out, but I was in shock.’
‘So you thought you’d leave her there?’
‘I know it was the wrong thing to do.’ His voice was flat, as if his emotions had dried up. ‘Do you think I haven’t relived that moment a million times since? It never leaves me, Jess. I’ll have to live with it for the rest of my life, but I didn’t want to hurt you.’
‘But you have, Dad.’ Tears were falling fast. ‘You killed my sister.’
From the living room, I heard Noah’s laughter and Will’s voice, in the kitchen a chink of glasses – life going on, but it would never be the same again. The two men I should have trusted most in the world had lied to me, to protect themselves.
‘I’ll never forgive you, Dad.’ I got to my feet, insides trembling. ‘Mum wouldn’t have either.’
‘Jess, please.’ He held out a hand, his shoulders shaking. ‘I want to be here, for you and Noah. Try to understand.’
‘I should call the police right now.’
He froze, as if the possibility hadn’t occurred to him.
‘Does Denny know any of this?’
‘God, no.’ Distaste rippled over Dad’s face. ‘He thought I was on one of my fishing trips that night.’
I thought about that so-called trip, when I’d worried about him going off on his own. ‘You would have got away with it if Sam hadn’t seen you.’
He looked at me with hooded eyes. ‘Would it have been such a bad thing? Wait,’ he said, as I started to walk away. ‘What good has it done, you knowing? Look at us!’ I turned to see him on his feet, reaching for me. ‘This is what I didn’t want to happen. I don’t want to lose you, Jess. You’re all I have left, you and Noah.’
He sounded so much like Adam, I wondered for the first time whether I’d subconsciously chosen a husband that reminded me of my father. ‘There’s no coming back from what you’ve done.’
‘It was an accident.’ He spread his hands, voice imploring. ‘I’m not a murderer.’
Again, the echo of Adam’s words. At least my husband had been telling the truth.
‘Are you going to turn me in?’
‘You should turn yourself in.’
‘I can’t do that, Jess.’ He shrugged, almost regretful. ‘I want to be around for you and Noah.’
As if on cue, his grandson shot out of the living room and hurled himself at Dad. ‘Will you do my bath time, Grandpa?’
‘Sorry,’ Will said, following. ‘I couldn’t stop him.’
Dad was already halfway upstairs behind Noah, who was shrieking with glee, high on birthday cake and being the centre of attention – how it should be. Could I really burst his family bubble any more than I already had? His father gone, then his grandfather. Was it fair?
Was it fair that Rachel was dead, and Dad had lied about it? He might not have killed her intentionally, but his hands had pushed her.
Will’s arm wound around my shoulders. ‘Was it him?’
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
His arms tightened around me. ‘What are you going to do?’
Over his shoulder, I saw Kristin in the kitchen doorway. She must have heard everything. Her eyes were stormy, her expression taut. Something passed between us that I didn’t understand. ‘She’s going to call the police.’ Her voice was strong and decisive, as if she had pulled the words from my heart.
I broke away from Will, warm where his arms had been, drying my eyes with the heel of my hand. Upstairs, Dad roared like a bear and Noah yelped with giggles.
I reached for my bag and took out my phone.
Chapter 48
Whatever happens now, I don’t regret what I did.
‘I know I’m not yours,’ Rachel said that night by the canal. ‘I know Mum had an affair. I don’t blame her, after what you’d been doing for years.’
Those were the words that came out of her mouth before that final push. Not yours. After everything I had done. I forgave Helen because I knew I deserved it. She had every right to get her own back. I willingly took on the baby and raised her as my own and Rachel had the nerve to say she wasn’t mine. Well, I’m glad she wasn’t. She was the result of her mother’s desire for revenge with a man who came to fit a new bathroom window – a moment of madness, followed by a few happy years, and then nothing but trouble. Trouble that I have no doubt hastened her mother’s death.
The truth is, I felt free, once the horror of Rachel sinking below the water had worn off. I was on edge for a while back home, until the police turned up. But they hadn’t come to arrest me. Nothing suspicious, they said. Alcohol consumption.
Identifying her body … I could only think of Helen and how heartbroken she would have been. It was the first time I was grateful that she wasn’t alive to witness the ongoing devastation her daughter brought to everything she touched.
Part of me longed to tell Jess she had nothing to fear but of course I couldn’t and then she started digging about, playing detective, and I could only watch it play out and hope – if that’s the right word – she would give up.
I’d been so relieved when Lucian turned out not to be Noah’s father, but wished it wasn’t Adam. I liked him, as much as I could like anyone my daughter married. I had Denny do some digging when they got together and his background was impeccable, no hint he was capable of cheating on Jess. Then again, I can hardly criticize. Maybe that was why I was willing to keep his secret. I know first-hand what men will do, the lengths they’re willing to go to protect those they love. I wanted to protect my daughter.
She’ll be fine without Adam. I’ll always be there for her, and that chap who turned up at her house – Will – I can see where that might go, saw the way he looked at her. He took care of Rachel when she didn’t deserve it, which speaks volumes about his character, and he ultimately led Jess to the truth about Adam, which I never would have divulged.
Rachel didn’t deserve Noah, but Jess does. She’s a natural mum, like her own mother was. For as long as I’m breathing, I won’t let anything come between her and her son.
That’s why I’m not going to tell her that Rachel wasn’t mine. She would forgive her mother a fling, but knowing Rachel wasn’t mine gives me a motive. She might not understand, and I can’t have anything else driving a wedge between us.
She’ll come round one day, I know she will. She’s angry now, but she needs me more than she thinks. I can be patient. I’ll wait as long as it takes for her to forgive me.
Chapter 49
Finally, Noah was asleep, worn out by the day’s excitement. Kristin had taken over bath and bedtime duties before the police arrived, Dad jogging downstairs without looking at me to greet them with a guileless smile.
Once the officers had taken statements from me, Will, and Sam, while Dad sat silently at the dining table, they asked him to accompany them to the station. It was either go quietly or be arrested and he chose to go quietly, glancing at me over his shoulder as he left, shooting me a warm, bracing smile that filled me with dread.
The first thing I did when they’d gone was call Adam and tell him the truth. ‘I’m so sorry I accused you,’ I said, my feelings ricocheting between disbelief, anger, and grief – for Rachel, for the Dad I now suspected hadn’t existed, and for Mum, because I wanted her to hold me and tell me I’d done the right thing.
‘My God, Jess. I can’t believe it.’ Adam had reverted to his husband role. ‘Do you want me to come over?’
‘No … thanks, but I’ve got people here.’
Silence pulsed down the line. ‘Thank you for letting me know,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll pick up Noah tomorrow lunchtime.’ I didn’t have it in me to discuss Noah’s birthday with him.
I sat with Kristin, Will, and Sam, talking through everything that had happened as we tried to shape Dad’s confession, his endless lies, into something that made sense, though we didn’t come close. There was no excusing what he’d done.
All the while, Kristin held my hand and Will barely took his eyes off me, while Sam sporadically muttered, ‘Shit, man. Couple of minutes earlier and I’d have seen it happen.’
‘I’m so glad you’re all here,’ I said tearfully. ‘And I’m sorry for getting you involved.’
‘You’ve got nothing to apologize for,’ Kristin said grimly.
When Sam went outside for a smoke, Will sat beside me on the sofa.
‘It’s hard to imagine now, but you’ll get through this, Jess.’
Before I could speak my phone rang. I snatched it up. It was Dad, calling from home. He had denied everything, he told me.
‘Sorry, Jess, but I can’t go to jail. I wouldn’t survive.’
His words barely penetrated the white noise in my mind. ‘But my statement—’
‘I know you want to punish me, Jess, but I can’t do it.’
I hung up and burst into tears. The police called later to say that without a confession, or any evidence, there was no case to answer. Dad was a free man.
‘Talk to him,’ the officer said. ‘Try to sort out your differences.’
It transpired Dad had made it sound as though what had happened was nothing more than a family feud, a vendetta against him, unjust accusations based on the difficult relationship he’d had with his younger daughter, coupled with a need for answers surrounding her death, which was nothing but a tragic accident.
‘I hate him,’ I wept on Kristin’s shoulder. She, Will, and Sam were grim-faced with horrified disbelief.
‘The bastard’s got away with it,’ Sam said, aiming a punch at the wall.
‘He won’t though.’ I blew my nose, a steely resolve hardening inside me. ‘He’ll pay for what he’s done.’
Kristin’s eyes locked on mine. ‘How?’
‘He won’t ever set eyes on Noah and me again.’
I slept like someone drugged that night, incapable of keeping my swollen eyes open. Kristin insisted on staying, promising to check on Noah, and I didn’t have the energy to argue, glad of her steady presence in the spare room.
Will had driven back to London with a subdued Sam, once I’d assured them there was nothing more they could do.
‘Thanks again for everything,’ I’d said.
Will’s face had been blank with exhaustion. He held me for a long moment, some of his warmth seeping into my bones. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, OK?’
I’d nodded into his shoulder, too wrung-out to speak, then hugged an embarrassed Sam, whose arms remained stiffly by his sides.
‘Safe journey,’ I managed, holding back more tears until they’d gone.
Waking now, the fragments of a nightmare clinging, my lashes crusted with tears, I lay for a moment, my thoughts muddy and unfocused, a sour plunge in my stomach as I replayed yesterday’s events; Noah’s birthday, which should have been a happy day, sullied by what came after. But I wasn’t going to let Dad ruin the rest of our lives. He’d been right about one thing, the day I found Rachel’s phone among the belongings he’d wanted to destroy. We did deserve better.
Kristin was moving about downstairs, the smell of coffee drifting up.
I slipped out of bed and into Noah’s room. He was still sleeping, breath puffing in and out, and I knelt by his bed for a while, hoping whatever came next wouldn’t impact his innocence or happiness too much.
Finally, I straightened, leaving his door ajar as I left the room.
I showered quickly and dressed, humming to keep my mind empty.
In the bedroom, I took my phone off charge – I had a vague memory of Kristin plugging it in for me, before placing a glass of water on the bedside table, her cool hand on my forehead as she urged me to sleep – and turned it on. I wanted to look at the photos I’d taken of Noah before everything went wrong, smiling at one of him ripping open his presents, another of him wearing a sheet of wrapping paper as a pirate hat that Will had shaped for him.
There was a text message from Will. Home safe. Thinking of you. Talk soon xx Tears filled my eyes as I touched the screen. How odd, that comfort should come from a man I’d known for such a short time.
Spotting an email notification, I clicked on the app. Kristin was clattering in the kitchen, the sound of spoons in mugs, music playing quietly in the background.
I sat on the stairs and opened the message, heart somersaulting when I saw the message was from Rachel. How was that even possible? My eyes whipped to the subject line: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! and down to the first paragraph. My breath high in my chest, I read:
Hi Jess.
I’ve scheduled this email to be delivered on your boy’s birthday. After 6 p.m. Isn’t that when parties finish? There will be a party, won’t there? I think I remember my 6th. Too much ice cream, I was sick in the bath. Happy days.
Tears flooded my eyes. A message from Rachel, at last. A proper, chatty email – the sort I’d once dreamt of us exchanging.
Anyway, here’s why I’m sending this, for my sins. I’m hoping I’ll be far away by now if everything goes according to plan, so I won’t have to deal with the fallout (I know, I know, I’m a bitch but read on).
Was she going to tell me about Adam? Oh, Rachel, you already did. Sniffing and wiping my eyes, I continued reading.
You won’t want to hear this, but our dear father isn’t all he seems (if you haven’t worked it out by now, and I don’t think you have). You remember his student, who came to the house? Well, she wasn’t his only … whatever she was. Long story short, but I caught him once with a (grown-up) woman. I was skiving off school (big surprise) and saw them by the river kissing on a bench (vomit). It was obvious they’d known each other a while. She worked in the pub near the university. I know – what a cliché! I followed her there afterwards, found out her name and where she lived – not from her, I flirted with the barman, who got quite chatty. She looked like she’d been crying, which seems to be a theme where Daddy dearest is concerned. Anyway, he didn’t know I knew about her, but I liked knowing he didn’t know that I knew (if you get my drift). I suppose I can see now that it must have been difficult for him at times, Mum being ill and having to take care of her – he did love Mother, I’ll give him that – though I used to see the way he stared at her friend Caroline. Tut, tut.
Anyway, when I came back to London, I remembered ‘the other woman’ and decided to look her up, see if she still lived there. I don’t really know why. Something to do, I suppose. I was trying to stay on the good old straight and narrow for Lucian, after a rather poor start. I arrived drunk at the airport (never liked flying sober) and got myself a tiny bit arrested, spent the night in a cell. Still, it saved me looking for somewhere to stay.
Where was I? Oh yes, Dad’s other woman. She did still live there, so I went to pay her a visit, only I didn’t get to speak to her, which I’m glad about now. You’ll never guess what, Jess! (Don’t you hate it when people say that?) Spoiler alert: YOU HAVE A SISTER!!! (Capitals are necessary.) Well, a half-sister (I was going to say, ‘another one’, but you would find that weird, though I suppose it could mean I was only ‘half’ a sister to you – less than that, really).
I didn’t handle it gracefully. I came out and told her the truth – turns out she had no clue – and where to find him if she wanted to (someone at the university told me he’d moved to the Lakes, big surprise – NOT!) but I warned her he wasn’t worth it. Up to her. At least she has a choice. She was nice, actually. Her mum told her that her father – ‘a music professor’ – died soon after she was born and she wouldn’t discuss him, so I don’t think he knows about her. She looks a bit like you, that’s how I knew for certain she was his daughter. If he does know, shame on him for not wanting anything to do with her. Her mother married and had a son, but she’s a widow now. Anyway, what I wanted to say is, you should find your sister if she hasn’t found you already. She’s a much better person than I am. I think you’ll like her. She lives with her mum in Finsbury Park and her name is Kristin Wells.
