Chapter 19

NINETEEN

LIANE

As I enter my son’s bedroom, I already know it’s too late to turn back.

If Haven is awake, she’ll have heard me coming in and, any second now, the light will go on and I’ll be caught standing here.

But that doesn’t happen. There is no light, nor are there any sounds other than my son’s soft snoring.

I wait a few seconds to make sure before taking a few more steps into the bedroom and as my eyes adjust to the lack of light in here, I can now just about make out the shapes of the two people in the bed.

My son is lying nearest to me, on his side because he’s always been a side sleeper. She lies next to him. Haven is on her side too, her back to my son, her head facing out of the bed. Facing in the direction of where I need to go.

I take a very quiet but very deep breath before taking a tentative step towards the bed.

I’m very aware that there could be numerous trip hazards on the floor by my feet, based on how many items of clothing I saw lying on the carpet in here the last time I came in.

All I can do is be careful and hope that I don’t fall victim to tripping over a T-shirt or getting my foot caught in some loose lingerie.

So far, so good. I make it to Haven’s side of the bed, and my eyes are continuing to adjust to the dark room, helping my cause, like I’m some kind of nocturnal animal hunting for its prey in the dead of night.

I keep moving until I reach the bedside table close to where Haven rests her head on her pillow, but before I make another move, I lean in to make sure she really is asleep.

I can just about see that her eyes are closed and her mouth is hanging open slightly, suggesting she is in a deep sleep, and she hasn’t been disturbed yet. That’s good, but I still haven’t got what I came for so this will all have been for nothing until I have.

Looking away from Haven and down at the bedside table, I make out the dark shape of her mobile phone. I had assumed she would keep it on here while she was sleeping, as most people do as they charge their device overnight, and sure enough, here it is, plugged into the cable that goes into the wall.

All I need to do now is quietly unplug it.

I experience yet another nervous nanosecond as I pick up the phone and gently remove the charging cable from the bottom of it, careful to place the cable down quietly rather than allowing it to fall and potentially clatter off the side of the table.

Now I have Haven’s phone in my hand, but it’s still no good to me unless I can unlock it.

The only way to do that is to get as close as I can to my son’s sleeping girlfriend.

Leaning in towards her, I hold the phone towards her face and pray that there is just enough light in here for the facial recognition technology to do its thing. The only way for me to gain access to her phone’s contents is if this phone thinks she is the one trying to access it. But will it work?

I hold the phone as close as I dare to in front of Haven’s face and hold my breath. But it doesn’t work. As I feared, it’s too dark in here. What can I do now?

I look at the lamp sitting on the bedside table. Dare I turn it on, just for a second, so that there’s enough light in here for this to work? It seems way too risky, but it’s also the only way.

I decide to do it.

Through gritted teeth, I flick the switch and suddenly the room is flooded with far too much light for my liking.

I quickly look at Haven and Joel, afraid that they might have just woken at the sudden brightness, and as Haven’s body shifts, I hold my breath and prepare to get caught.

But after an anxious few seconds, both people in the bed still seem asleep.

So I don’t waste another second. I hold Haven’s phone back in front of her face and, thanks to the extra light in here, the facial recognition software does its job and the phone now unlocks.

I quickly turn the lamp back off and the darkness that ensues feels comforting. What is not comforting, though, is that my eyes now need to readjust to the change in lighting again, and I am forced to wait for several seconds longer than I’d like to before I can make my way out of the bedroom.

As I do, I make sure to keep tapping a few buttons on Haven’s phone, to make sure it doesn’t automatically lock again and force me into repeating what I have just done.

But, after what feels like a very nerve-shredding few minutes, I finally make it back out of my son’s bedroom and into the hallway.

Once I close the door behind me, I can breathe a sigh of relief.

That’s the first part of my plan complete.

But now to get started on the second part.

For this, I decide to go downstairs, well away from any of the other people in this house, even if they are all asleep.

* * *

I reach the kitchen and quickly take a seat before beginning my deep dive into Haven’s phone.

I considered sneaking off somewhere a little safer, like the bathroom where I could lock the door behind me, or maybe even the car outside where I could do the same.

But shutting myself in the bathroom or leaving the house completely might make too much noise.

All is quiet in the kitchen so this will do.

Everyone’s asleep. No need to risk disturbing them any more than I already have done.

If I’m supposed to feel bad for what I’m doing, I remember my meeting with Calvin and all the red flags I have already seen since that young woman came into my life. Just thinking about all of that eases any guilt enough for me to carry on with my plan.

I remember Haven mentioning that she was messaging my mother while in Australia, via social media, so I decide to click on that particular app first. I really, really want to read those messages and see what was actually being said.

I open the app and see Haven’s profile photo of choice, one of her lying on a golden beach, presumably in Australia, her long hair falling down her back while her long legs lie splayed out on the sand.

It’s a dreamy photo, but it’s a far cry from her current reality, in which she resides here in England, currently shacked up in a spare bedroom with her boyfriend’s parents.

There’s no beach here, only me and my desire to make sure my son and his inheritance are safe.

I click around the app, looking for the messages section before finding it.

When I do, I see the top message is from Joel.

It looks like he has sent her some kind of meme, a joke that he must have thought would make his girlfriend laugh.

It seems to have worked because I can see a couple of laughing face emojis underneath, sent to him in response by Haven to show her appreciation of the meme.

But I’m not here to look at what messages these two have shared with each other.

I’m here to see what Haven might have sent that Joel might not have seen.

The messages below are all from other women who look to be the same as Haven, judging by their profile photos, so I assume they are her friends, either in the UK or in Australia. But then I see a message from somebody who doesn’t have a profile photo. However, I recognise the name next to it.

Val.

It’s Mum. This must be the account she set up so she could see what her grandson was doing in Australia. And as Haven said, my mother had been messaging her.

I open the message stream and see that the most recent message was sent when my mother was still alive.

Mum has said that the recent travel photos look wonderful, particularly the images of the beach in Western Australia, and she comments on how she would love to visit there one day.

She also mentioned that Joel’s brother, Scott, is coming to see her later that day and she is looking forward to it.

I scroll up, reading the previous messages, wanting to get a complete sense of the scale of this chat history between these two people.

Sure enough, Haven was telling the truth, at least about this.

She and my mother did exchange several messages, and in them, Haven did say she was looking forward to meeting her one day.

But then I see one particular message that causes me to grip the phone a little tighter.

It’s from Haven to my mother and it’s dated a couple of months ago.

In it, Haven explains how her and Joel are running low on funds so they aren’t doing anything particularly exciting for the upcoming weekend.

Haven then says they are both looking for jobs to fund the next part of their travels, but unless they find anything, they are stuck.

While I heard something similar from my own son because he certainly wasn’t shy in phoning home and politely asking us to transfer some money whenever he needed it, I did not know Haven was discussing money with my mother.

Just as I did not know what is clear from the next message, in which Mum says she is willing to send them a little money to help out.

She also goes as far as to mention that she has been saving a lot of money for Joel’s future, but if he needs it now, maybe it’s best if she gives it to him earlier than planned.

This is it. This is proof that Haven did know Joel’s grandmother had money and that there was an inheritance to be gained.

Mum never told me she had made such an offer to Haven.

She never mentioned that she was prepared to send them money in Australia.

No wonder Haven was so smug when she told me she did know my mother after all.

It’s clear she knew her a lot better than I thought.

Before I can read any more of these messages, a new one flashes up on the screen. It’s just been sent to Haven right now and, purely by accident because my fingers were already tapping the screen, I end up opening it.

When I do, I can’t help but see what it says.

If you don’t leave Joel and my family alone, I will hurt you.

What is this? Who has sent such a message to Haven? I don’t know because the number it has come from hasn’t been saved in Haven’s phone, so it’s just a string of digits I don’t recognise. But considering what it says, it has to have come from someone in my family.

Who is warning Haven away from us? Who else has suspicions about her other than me? What the hell is going on here?

Before I can find out, the phone is suddenly pulled from my hand. When I spin around, I see why somebody snatched it away from me.

It’s because it doesn’t belong to me.

It belongs to the person who just took it.

It’s Haven.

She’s caught me.

Now what?

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