Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
Jack frowns in confusion as I all but tear my top free in my haste to escape him. ‘Kara? What’s wrong?’ he asks, his voice fearful as I shove the front door open and race to the stairs.
‘Nothing,’ I call as I fly up them. ‘Morning sickness. Go,’ I urge him. ‘You need to finish your job.’
‘I can’t leave you like this,’ he insists, crossing the lounge.
‘I’ll be fine,’ I shout from the landing. ‘It will pass. I just need to use the bathroom and have a lie-down.’
Hurrying on, I lock the bathroom door behind me and lean against it, trying to slow my racing heartbeat.
It was just a dream. A stupid nightmare, that was all.
I’d dreamed I’d found the locket in my own bedside drawer too, and had felt Jack draping the chain around me, his breath warm on the back of my neck as he’d fastened it.
In another, which had been deeply disturbing, I’d found Natalia’s shoe washed up on the beach, the sand next to it speckled deep crimson.
I’d reached out and touched it, rubbing the blood between my fingertips. It had seemed so real.
‘I’ll call you,’ Jack says directly outside the door, almost giving me heart failure. ‘Call me if you need to. I’ll come straight back. It’s not a problem.’
‘Mm, yes, okay,’ I mumble, and then hurry to flush the loo and turn on the taps. Minutes later, I hear the front door closing and I allow myself to breathe out.
He’s worried. He’s bound to be. Why had I been so quick to let Lina into our lives?
She’s ruining everything. Even as I think it, I feel guilty – she’s obviously unwell – but it’s the truth.
And just because she is unwell doesn’t mean that Jack isn’t right.
That she isn’t consciously trying to turn Evie against him, to split us up and ruin both our lives.
I didn’t lie about the morning sickness, which is so intense now it’s almost debilitating.
Waiting until another bout has swept over me, I emerge from the bathroom, peer over the balustrade to check Jack has actually left, then make my way to the bedroom, where I sink weakly onto the bed.
I’ve never felt this tired in my life. But then I am sleep-deprived, I suppose, having been plagued by nightmares for two nights in a row.
Desperate to snatch even a few minutes’ sleep, I try to relax and find myself drifting, half asleep and half awake, my conscious thoughts dissolving, spasmodically jerked from my dreams by noises that exist only inside my mind: waves whooshing, footsteps.
Are they footsteps? I strain to hear above the thud, thud, thud of my heart.
It comes again, a sharp clack, a stiletto on the tiles.
A dragging sound. Another clack. The person has a limp – or else she’s only wearing one shoe.
My mind shifts, jarred by a shrill scream cut short, doors closing, squeaking open. My chest booms and I jolt as I realise the squeaky door is my bedroom door, that there’s someone here in the room with me.
‘Are you all right, my dear?’ Lina asks, hovering over me.
‘Yes.’ Trying to blink the cobwebs from my mind, I pull myself up and hitch my legs over the side of the bed, wondering what on earth she’s doing here. How she’s here. ‘Where’s Evie?’ I glance past her, my shattered nerves settling a little as I realise Lina must have come in with her.
‘Gone to see that friend of hers, I think,’ Lina replies. ‘Although in my opinion, it’s not much of a friend who’s ready to leap into bed with her friend’s father. Not that I imagine the girl needed much encouragement from Jack.’
Irritated, immensely, not just by her ridiculous insistence that Jack has been unfaithful, but also by her complete lack of sensitivity, I heave myself to my feet and feel immediately woozy.
‘Whoops.’ Lina catches my arm. ‘Sit down,’ she says, encouraging me back down to the bed. ‘It’s probably just baby turning, but it’s best to give yourself a minute.’
Feeling light-headed and still dreadfully nauseous, I nod and do as she suggests.
‘I’ve made you a nice cup of tea,’ Lina says, nodding towards the cup she’s placed on the bedside table.
Wiping the back of my hand shakily over my forehead, I marvel at how sound of mind she actually seems right now. Is Jack right? I wonder again. ‘When did Evie leave?’ I ask.
‘A while ago,’ she says, picking up the cup. ‘Just after Jack.’
I take the tea she offers me and drink gratefully.
My mouth is parched, my head throbs, and I’m scrambling to get my thoughts in some sort of order.
‘Did Imogen call her?’ I ask, thinking it odd that Evie would just take off.
From what she’d said when Jack asked her about school tomorrow, I’d gathered that she wanted nothing to do with Imogen.
Lina knits her forehead. ‘I don’t think so.
’ She takes the cup as I stretch to try to reach the bedside table with it, only to experience another dizzy spell.
‘Perhaps she’s decided to follow that no-good father of hers and keep an eye on him,’ she says, her frown deepening into a scowl.
‘It would serve him right if she caught him red-handed.’
I close my eyes, trying to ward off the now grinding nausea. ‘Lina, please stop,’ I say, my heart palpitating with worry and confusion. ‘Jack’s not cheating on me. He’s nothing but kind and loving. Please don’t keep running him down. Especially in front of Evie.’
Lina huffs and rolls her eyes in apparent exasperation. ‘It’s very noble of you to defend him, my dear,’ she says, ‘but also a little na?ve, if you don’t mind my pointing out.’
I stare at her with a mixture of creeping fear and bewilderment. ‘Why do you hate him so much?’ I ask, desperate to understand what’s driving this relentless disparagement of him.
‘For the same reason my daughter came to hate him,’ she responds angrily.
‘She was terrified of him, his manipulation, his violence. She wanted to get away from him. She knew the only way she would be free of him was when he grew tired of her. And that’s exactly what happened.
He’s a liar,’ she insists, her eyes narrowed to icy slits.
‘A liar and a cheat and a murderer. He’s lying to you, manipulating you, but you’re too taken in to see it. ’
‘He’s not!’ I argue, tears springing to my eyes. I swipe them furiously away.
‘But he is. He’s lied about everything, don’t you see?’ She looks at me with a combination of desperation and despair. ‘He claimed Natalia disappeared. People don’t just disappear.’
‘They do.’ I shake my head, growing more and more confused by the second. ‘They found her shoe washed up on a beach, her bag on top of a lifeboat.’
‘Put there by him to put people off the scent,’ Lina seethes. ‘He lied about what happened to her. He lied about her childhood. He wanted people to believe she was mentally fragile, emotionally unstable. She wasn’t.’
‘But why would he have said she was if—’
‘He’s lying. He wanted custody of Evie. My Natalia would have fought him tooth and nail. He wanted to be rid of her. He wanted access to her money, but Natalia was shrewd enough to move it from their shared account.’
She stops, looking at me cagily. ‘Have you given him access to your finances?’
‘No.’ I swallow back the bitter taste in my throat, try to process. ‘Yes. We have a joint account, for the household bills, but…’ She’s serious, isn’t she? I see her shoulders stiffen.
‘And the house?’ she asks. ‘Is that in joint names?’
I shake my head hard, feeling now utterly disorientated.
She’s talking sensibly, seemingly coherent.
I’d thought she was in denial about her daughter’s abuse, unaware of her own condition, but now I’m not sure.
Is Jack a liar? Did he hurt Natalia, lie about her mental health, telling me her behaviour was volatile and unpredictable because of it when in fact it was due to his behaviour?
‘We are thinking of making joint wills, though,’ I murmur, my heart now thudding so frantically I feel it might explode, ‘to make sure the children are financially secure.’
Lina pauses before answering. ‘And this wouldn’t be anything to do with securing his own future?’ she asks, raising her eyebrows enquiringly.
‘This is all utter rubbish.’ I try again to rise from the bed, but Lina stops me, patting my hand and sitting down beside me.
‘Rest awhile.’ She smiles sweetly. ‘We don’t want you falling down those stairs, do we?’