Chapter 31 #2
‘If the worst happens, which it won’t, but if it does… I’m thinking about telling them if Mum doesn’t start cooperating with the doctors, they have to find another sofa for her to die on. That will surely motivate her to get help, if nothing else does.’
‘And if the worst doesn’t happen? If you’re found not guilty? Are you okay with Mum and Dad being your kids’ live-in role models?’
She chewed her lip.
‘It doesn’t have to be an empty threat. You know I will buy you a house.
Or buy them a house. Somewhere properly kitted out with ramps and handrails and whatever else Mum will need.
Either that or an abandoned caravan with no heating.
I’m going to be around to help, but you’d be so much better off without them. ’
‘Yeah, but even after everything, they’re still our mum and dad, aren’t they? What kind of evil cow kicks out her dying mother?’ She shook her head. ‘Even Mum wouldn’t do that. I’d be worse than her.’
‘Muuuuummy!’ someone screamed from downstairs.
She sighed. ‘Hard to believe I’ll miss that screech.’
‘Lacey,’ I said as she opened the door, because I had to keep trying. ‘You don’t have to miss it. Change your plea. Please.’
For a second, I thought she might be wavering, and then the doorbell rang, and things got even more complicated.
I found Lacey staring out the front door, her face ghostly in the moonlight.
‘Who is it?’
‘It’s him.’ Her voice shook as she slumped against the doorframe.
I pushed past her, knowing only one person who could make my sister react like this. Thankfully, there was no sight of anyone in the front yard, or the street beyond. However, on the doorstep was a giant Christmas gift bag, overflowing with presents.
‘Leave them.’ I tried to tug her away from the door, but she wasn’t budging.
‘What, and tell the kids to step over it every time we go out?’
‘I’ll move the bag when I go. Dump them over a hedge or something.’
‘You think I’ll be able to sleep, wondering what that man has left on my doorstep?’
‘You’re sure they’re from Tad Butcher?’
She nodded at the bag. ‘The tag is addressed to Angel.’
Tad’s pet name for her.
‘Okay.’ A snake of trepidation slithered through my guts. Whatever reason Tad Butcher had for playing Father Christmas now, it couldn’t be good. ‘Let’s get the kids in bed before we look inside.’
I dragged the bag behind some of the other rubbish in the front garden, so when Bronte left to visit Zendon she wouldn’t see it.
Of course, the plan to wait until three small children had gone to sleep was inherently flawed, due to it being Christmas Eve.
Mum and Dad would also be up until late, so we waited an hour or so after chasing the kids back to bed for the fourth time, then hefted the bag into the back garden, because Lacey refused to bring it into the house but didn’t want to open it in view of the street in case one of Tad’s minions was watching.
‘Dammit, Alex, I hate this so much.’ Lacey was still quaking. She swiped at her eyes. ‘I don’t think I can do it.’
‘You don’t have to.’ I gently put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Go back inside. I’ll do it. I would have given anything to protect you from him back then. Let me do this tiny thing, now. Besides, if there’s a bomb in there, at least both of us won’t die.’
So, alone, in the dank dark on Christmas Eve, sleet stinging my face, I steeled myself to rifle through a drug dealer’s goody bag.
I’d been doing so well at not thinking about Will, but the urge to call him then was so strong, I even pulled out my phone and dialled his number, only hanging up after the first ring.
I knew if he’d spotted it – and, at ten-twenty at night, I couldn’t imagine he’d be too busy to miss his phone ringing – then he’d be thinking about me, and as I turned it off, ensuring he couldn’t call me back because I was way too vulnerable to resist him right then, it gave me the bolster I needed to open the bag.
It wasn’t long before I was back inside, at the kitchen table with Lacey, who was nursing a glass of Baileys, Ernest sitting on her lap.
‘Mostly stuffed toys and sweets. Plus, three iPads, for Lennon, Harley and Kaylynn.’
‘Toys and sweets can be given away. The iPads I’ll decide about later.’ Lacey took a large swig. ‘What about Bronte? We both know him well enough to know he’ll have gone all out when it comes to his daughter.’
I held up the last thing I’d found in the bag. A key.
Lacey swore. She poured herself another glass of Baileys, necked it, and poured another one, swearing again.
‘I didn’t click the fob, in case it made the lights flash, but there’s a shiny Fiat 500 parked right behind my car.’
‘What do I do?’
‘On the one hand, you could argue it’s the least Bronte deserves.’
‘On the other, I don’t think my daughter deserves to be driving around in a stolen car.’
‘It won’t be stolen. He wouldn’t risk that with her.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘True. But every time he catches sight of it, it’ll bring him pleasure he doesn’t deserve. He’s probably put a tracker on it.’
‘Let Bronte decide?’
‘No. She’s no idea what she’s dealing with. It would be a blind decision.’ Lacey took another drink. ‘Besides, the car and iPads are the least of my worries. This isn’t simply his twisted idea of an apology for me being arrested.’
‘I know.’ Every ice-cold bone in my body knew what this was. ‘It’s a threat.’
‘So, if I go down, I have to worry about him worming his way back into Bronte’s life. Not just hers, the others, too.’
‘She’s smart, Lacey.’
‘I’m smart! She’ll also be an eighteen-year-old dealing with a mum in prison, and that man is cunning. He can be so damn nice, so sweet and thoughtful. And if charm fails, he’ll use blackmail or, if needs be, stick a chuffing screwdriver in your backside.’
‘I’ll be here.’
‘I love you, Alex, you are a formidable woman. But Tad is ruthless. Relentless. He won’t stop, and you can’t handle that on top of everything else.
Even worse, what happens if I’m not in prison?
Has he decided to be back, now? Is he going to feel the need to keep making it up to me?
’ She shuddered. ‘Just when I thought I’d finally hit rock bottom and had a chance of crawling my way out again, the floor disappears under me, and I’ve landed in a cesspit. What the hell am I going to do, Alex?’
She glanced up, and for the first time ever, I saw utter brokenness and despair in her eyes.
‘Plead guilty, walk out of court and head straight to Bigley? You can all stay with me while we figure things out.’
‘You know Bronte won’t come.’
‘Maybe if you told her the truth about him?’
‘And what, she gives up her life here? College, her friends and a decent boyfriend. Never mind the chance to live with his normal, functional family. All because her idiot mum went begging to her sociopath dad. I can’t see a good ending to this, Alex.
Why on earth did I think I could poke that scorpion’s nest and none of us get stung?
Maybe my kids should be taken into care. I clearly can’t keep them safe.’
Before I had time to come up with anything to say apart from ‘I’m sorry, it’s a nightmare’, Harley burst through the kitchen doorway.
‘Is it Christmas Day yet?’
‘We’ll figure it out,’ was all I’d come up with, once the last pair of sleepy eyes had finally given in. ‘One day at a time, remember?’
Lacey’s laugh was bitter. ‘Not sure I’d have chosen that as my mantra if I’d known what today was going to be like.’
‘I love you, my sister, but I’m heading back while I can still drive without falling asleep at the wheel.’
‘I love you, too. Thanks for helping today be slightly less of a crappy Christmas.’
I hugged her. A rare gesture that sent me straight back to our teenage years. ‘We’ve had more than our fair share of those.’
I didn’t have to mention that next year may well be even worse, for my sister at least.