Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
JADE
‘I want you to leave. Today .’
My head snapped up, my free hand hurrying to adjust my top to give myself some privacy as Amala fed ravenously at my breast, her mouth making noisy sucks that indicated she was taking far too much air in with her milk, though I had no idea how to fix her latch.
Annie stood in the bedroom doorway, her blonde hair tangled and wild, mud streaked across her red, sweat-glistening cheek.
‘Annie,’ I said, my tone already desperate, pleading.
I couldn’t go. I just couldn’t. And yet there was no way for me to explain why.
I knew I’d already pushed my luck, already reached the limit of her charity.
I’d never felt like I was welcome, but I knew she had an intangible need to help me, her own story forcing her hand.
‘ Please ,’ I said, meeting her determined stare. ‘I… I don’t have anywhere?—’
‘Stop. It’s not going to work. I’m not your family.
Not your friend. I’m nothing to you. And you are nothing to me.
I don’t know what I was thinking letting you into my home.
Aaron was right. It’s ridiculous. I must be losing my mind to have thought—’ She broke off, shaking her head, and I felt panic coursing through me.
‘Annie, please ,’ I whispered. ‘I just need a few more days; I need time…’
‘For what ? What the hell do you plan to do? Because as far as I can see, you’re not making any arrangements to leave. You seem to be waiting for something. Someone ,’ she spat, her eyes narrowed, suspicious. ‘And I get the feeling you have no intention of telling me who that someone might be.’
Amala released my nipple, her head lolling heavily against my arm, her dark eyes focused sleepily on my face as if she was listening to every word.
Couldn’t Annie see that I was doing this for my daughter?
Her future. I had to make her change her mind.
‘Why did you let me stay?’ I asked softly.
‘After I left that first day. What made you come outside and invite me back in?’
‘You know exactly why I let you back in. Because of my ex, Ryan . Because I thought you’d come at his bidding and a part of me couldn’t bear to turn you away.
I wanted to help you! It was stupid of me, careless to let the snake into the rabbit’s nest, but you looked so afraid, so desperate, and I couldn’t live with the thought of what might happen if I didn’t help you.
But it’s clear to me now that you’re not here for my help.
You obviously have some other agenda. So I want you to go.
This isn’t a refuge; it’s my home , and I want it back. ’
My chest tightened as I took in her words, saw how deeply she meant them.
Shaking, I placed Amala gently down on the bed beside me and leaned forward, my head dropping to my hands.
I hadn’t wanted to have this conversation, had hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, but I could see now that I had no choice.
I had to give her something… tell her what she needed to hear in order to convince her.
Her anger was palpable, and I glanced down at Amala, knowing there were no limits to what I’d do to protect her. I swallowed.
‘You were right,’ I said softly. I took a shuddering breath and looked up, meeting her eyes. ‘You were right,’ I repeated. ‘I do need your help.’
‘What do you mean?’ Her face was cold, stiff, and I couldn’t help but think of that bloodstained baby vest in the loft, the guilt I’d seen in her eyes up there.
Instinctively, I repositioned myself so that Amala was shielded behind me.
‘I lied to you before. I thought you were going to make us leave, so I panicked… I was scared. But you had it right all along. I’m married to your ex.
And all the horrible things you said he did to you…
’ I bowed my head, unable to meet her eyes.
‘He did the same to me. I couldn’t get away from him, and then I had his daughter and became even more trapped.
To begin with, I thought becoming a father might make him change, but it only got worse.
He… he’s jealous of her,’ I said, my voice barely a whisper.
‘He hasn’t taken the changes well. You know what he’s like… ’ I met her eyes. ‘You remember.’
Her hand flew to her mouth, and she stepped back as if she might make a sudden break for freedom, her eyes darting down the hall in terrified expectation.
‘I was right? You are his new wife? He sent you here to spy on me? Play some sick game with me?’ All the colour drained from her face, and despite her deep chestnut tan, she looked sallow and pale.
‘No…’ I shook my head. ‘That’s not why I’m here.
He has no idea I’ve come. He speaks about you all the time.
Compares me to you. He’s obsessed with you,’ I added, watching as she gripped the door frame as if to steady herself.
‘So I knew your name, knew what you looked like, but not where you lived. He hates that he doesn’t know where you are.
He never talks about how you left – I can’t imagine he’d want to give me any ideas,’ I added wryly.
‘But last week, a letter came through the door with your name on it, and I opened it. It was a school reunion invite. I called the organiser and told them you didn’t live there any more, and the woman, Jessica, said she would send a copy to your parents’ address instead.
She was in a hurry and seemed really overwhelmed, irritated at the extra task, so I offered to send you my copy to save her a job. And she gave me this address.’
‘A school reunion?’ Annie repeated, her tone doubtful. ‘I don’t remember a Jessica.’
I nodded. ‘I had no idea if you’d be here, but I knew I had to try.
That you would understand what I’d had to do to leave.
You’re the only person who knows what it feels like to be in my shoes.
My family have all given up on me. He made sure of that,’ I added, looking down at my lap.
‘I meant to ask for your help in getting free from him. And I guess I forgot what I told you the day I got here. I was in such a state, I wasn’t thinking straight.
But when you brought it up again, I suddenly felt terrified that if you knew the truth, you might not let me stay.
Or worse – that he might somehow find out I was here and come for me.
I just wanted the anonymity for a few days, you know?
The freedom to just be with my daughter while I figured out my next steps – to be safe for once. ’
She was shaking her head before I even finished speaking. ‘I asked you outright. I told you my story. You should have known I’d never give you up to him.’
‘I know… I’m sorry.’
‘Doesn’t he track your calls? Your phone? He always did mine.’
‘I… uh…’ I shook my head, shocked to hear that. ‘No. I don’t think so. I meant to check when you said the other day, but I really don’t think he tracks me. He’d have come for me by now if he knew I was here.’
‘You don’t think so?’ Her voice was low, dangerous as she stared at me.
‘Are you stupid? You could have led him right to me! After three years, three fucking years of being free of him, you could have led him right to my door! I heard someone come into the house the night before last. I managed to convince myself I was mistaken, but now…’ She sucked in a breath.
‘Oh my God, Jade. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? ’
‘I don’t think he tracks me… I really don’t.’
‘Then you’re a bloody fool!’
There was a long moment of silence as Annie gathered herself, her breathing jagged as she stood fidgeting in the doorway, as if unsure how to proceed.
‘I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.
That wasn’t fair to you,’ I said, my tone apologetic though my heart rate steadied at the sound of her panic.
She believed my story. Of course she did – it was everything she’d feared from the moment she saw me standing in her garden.
‘I just wanted to protect Amala. Give her the future she deserves,’ I said, though the realisation that I might have put my baby in danger just by being in this house, being near Annie, was impossible to ignore.
Annie looked past me, her gaze falling on my daughter.
She gave a slow, thoughtful nod, then walked purposefully across the carpet towards us, reaching over and picking Amala up, holding her against her chest. I wanted to scream at her to put her back down, to hand her to me, but I couldn’t.
I couldn’t risk her throwing us out, not when she seemed to be softening.
‘I’m glad you told me the truth at last,’ she said, her hand spread across Amala’s rounded spine, her fingernails embedded with soil, reminding me of that ever-deepening pit in the front garden. ‘We can prepare now… we can be ready.’
‘What do you mean?’ I whispered, half afraid to hear the answer.
She levelled an assessing glare at me, then, as if deciding I wasn’t ready to hear the answer, turned towards the door, my daughter still clutched in her arms.
‘Um, actually, Annie, I was about to get her down for a nap,’ I said, panicked at the idea of her taking my daughter anywhere without me.
I didn’t trust her. Not one bit. When I’d arrived here, she’d seemed like a woman who was used to her own space.
Isolated, yes, and socially awkward. Rude even.
But I’d taken her for someone harmless. Someone who would never be more than a background character, even in her own life.
It was hard to believe I’d misread her so badly.
I could see now that she was far from the victim I’d taken her to be.
How stupid I had been to leave this woman alone with my baby.
It was a testament to how distracted I had been in my hurry. And a mistake I would never repeat.
She turned, a frown forming a deep crease between her eyebrows.
Amala’s fingers were wrapped tightly around Annie’s thumb, and I wanted to unfurl them, to snatch her back.
I sat perfectly still, though my heart was racing, as I waited for Annie to respond.
Her expression was glazed, as if she was deep in thought, plotting, planning, and it made me uneasy to my core.
‘She’s tired,’ I added softly.
She seemed to hear me then. She glanced down at the baby in her arms, as if she was reluctant to let her go, then, to my relief, handed her back to me without meeting my eyes. ‘Of course,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘She should rest. As should you,’ she added.
She turned, walking out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her, and I wondered what on earth I’d unleashed in having that conversation.