Chapter 48
Jimmy’s visit was still on Sophie’s mind as she stood on the driveway in her dressing-gown the following morning, waving off the kids.
Once Ryan had left for work, she forced herself to wait five full minutes in case he’d forgotten something.
When she was certain he was gone, she pulled out the kids’ laptop, opened an incognito window and logged into her Gmail account—the anonymous one.
She felt a rush of adrenaline when she saw the name in her inbox: Poppy Berry. Her hand shook as she read the message.
Hi Ryan, it’s Nel. Sounds like you have a guilty conscience. Stop harassing my niece. PS We’ve traced your IP address so if anything happens to her you will go down.
The emails had been a gamble. She knew it was possible they could backfire—and drive Nel out of town—but the threats had strengthened her resolve, just as Sophie hoped they would.
What she hadn’t considered was the possibility that Charlie might be suspected of sending them.
She closed her eyes, remembering the fear she’d felt the night before when Ryan summoned Charlie to the door.
Thank god Jimmy hadn’t pursued it any further.
She reread the message, then deleted it from the inbox and the deleted items folder, shut down the computer and put it back exactly where she found it. Her plan was working.
She went into the spare room, pausing in front of the full-length mirror to scrutinise the spot on her forehead where the bruise had been, but it was gone.
She turned sideways, lifting her t-shirt.
There was the slightest hint of a bump there, undetectable to anyone who didn’t know there was a baby growing inside her, but not for long.
She put a hand over her belly, then dropped her shirt and leaned closer to the mirror, studying the lines on her forehead and at the corners of her eyes. When did she get so old? So tired?
She’d been beautiful once. She knew that, not that she’d ever admit it—she wasn’t up herself—but it was true.
Her mother had declared it, over and over.
‘Annabelle’s the brains, Sophie’s the beauty,’ she would say, unaware or unconcerned that her words were insulting to both her daughters in different ways.
‘Lucky me,’ she said to her reflection. If she hadn’t been beautiful, she wouldn’t have ended up with Ryan. For the first time though, she was pleased that people underestimated her intelligence. She was relying on it.
She opened the wardrobe and reached up onto a high shelf, grasping for the shoebox. Her heart pounded as she sat on the bed and removed the contents until she spotted the little wooden jewellery box.
She tipped it out onto the quilt, holding her breath as she ran her fingers through the collection of jewellery that had belonged to Ryan’s mother.
Tangled chains, pendants, silver earrings.
Each time, she feared that he might have moved it or disposed of it.
It had been months since she’d last checked it.
Then there it was. The ring. She held it on her open palm.
It was a few years ago that Sophie realised this ring was the key to her freedom and had searched the house for it.
It had taken a while to find it. After a few weeks, she’d started to wonder if Ryan had got rid of it—it would have been the logical thing to do, given it would connect him to Maddie’s disappearance if anyone ever found it—but she’d persisted with her search, certain he would have kept it, given it had belonged to his beloved mother.
The plan had taken shape gradually over the years since Sophie found it.
Would it work? She didn’t know, but it was all she had.
After a moment, she put the ring back in the box along with the rest of the jewellery, then placed the wooden box exactly where it had been, and pushed the shoebox back up onto the shelf, out of sight.
One more day.
She went into the kitchen and took the shopping bags from under the sink, then went into the bedroom. Duke was asleep on his bed under the window. She crouched down and stroked the soft fur between his eyes. He opened his eyes a fraction and stretched his neck towards her.
‘You’re a good boy,’ she said, her throat thick with emotion.
She’d been quietly furious when Ryan had brought him home many years before.
There’d been no consultation and she already had her hands full—Jasmine was a baby and Charlie was a high-spirited toddler—but she’d quickly come to love him.
He’d been her constant companion during those years when the kids were little and the days were very long, and in recent years when things had gone from bad to worse.
She’d thought about taking him, but it just made no sense. It would be hard enough without a dog to complicate things further. She needed to use her head, not her heart.
Tears welled in her eyes. ‘I’m going to miss you, mate,’ she whispered.
She kissed the top of his head and wiped her eyes, then she got up and opened the wardrobe.
For now, she would pack just enough so that Ryan wouldn’t notice anything gone, and put the bags in the car.
If he happened to check the security camera at the front door, he would just see her carrying shopping bags.
Nothing odd about that. She would pack the rest tomorrow.