Chapter 53
FIFTY-THREE
NATALIA
‘He thought I’d plummeted to certain death,’ I chat on to Kara as I come back from her plush kitchen with a cup of tea for her. ‘But I didn’t die, as you can see.’
Sitting down next to her on the sofa, I give her a smile.
She doesn’t smile back. I suppose I can forgive her that, given her circumstances.
‘I imagine he’ll be furious when he realises he didn’t manage to kill me, although God knows he tried with his manipulation and his lies.
Do you realise what that can do to a person?
’ I survey her interestedly. Her pretty eyes are so wide I’m sure they’re going to pop right out of her head.
‘But of course you do. Or at least I think you might finally be beginning to.’
Shaking my head sympathetically, I sigh and cradle the mug to her lips, her hands being somewhat restricted. ‘It’s cool enough to drink,’ I assure her, as she flinches. ‘I tested it.’
As I try again to encourage her to take as sip, she jerks away. ‘I don’t want the fucking tea!’ she screams, causing me to jolt.
‘Oh dear.’ I glance down at the tea that’s spilled on my jeans, then back to her. ‘Feisty, aren’t we?’
Her expression is apprehensive as I rise from the sofa and place the cup on the coffee table, my actions measured, despite my anger. ‘You do realise he’s a liar?’ I ask her. ‘That everything about him is fake?’
She looks at me, utterly clueless.
‘He told you I had mental health issues, right?’ I ask.
She nods, her forehead creased into a scowl as she looks up at me, her hands fiddling with the wire behind her back.
No matter. It’s tied tightly. She’s probably experiencing some pain in her wrist, which I suspect is sprained rather than broken, but I’ve made sure her circulation won’t be restricted.
I’m not completely heartless, despite Jack’s best attempts to smash my heart to smithereens.
‘I struggled with depression, I admit that much, but I don’t have mental health issues,’ I assure her. ‘Has it struck you how many people around you he claims do?’
‘Lina,’ she murmurs, a flicker of comprehension in her eyes.
‘Precisely.’ I nod, check the clock on the wall, then go to the window. ‘Where’s he got to anyway?’ I ask, as if she’s going to know. ‘You’d think he’d be here, given that you could be dead. Honestly, he’s unbelievable.’
I sigh and turn around. ‘The times I stood looking out of my window when we were married.’ I sigh expansively.
‘You still are,’ I remind myself. ‘Oh, right, I forgot,’ I answer, then, ‘What?’ I ask, noting her nervous expression as I head back towards her.
‘I talk to myself. Don’t you? It doesn’t make me mad. ’
She’s watching every move I make, I note, as I plonk myself in the armchair.
‘He convinced everyone I was, though, claiming I was unstable, an unfit mother. Suicidal. I’m not!
I might have made a feeble attempt to take my own life in my teens, but it was a cry for help.
I was depressed, yes, but being abused by my mother’s disgusting partner, wasn’t I bound to have been?
I was never struggling with mental health issues in the way Jack tried to convince people I was. It’s all lies.’
She shakes her head in bemusement. ‘But why would he have gone to such lengths? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Because he wanted custody of Evie.’ I look at her in bemusement. ‘In his mind, he thought he could keep her safe, but he can’t, don’t you see?’
I note the deep furrow forming in her brow and I realise she doesn’t see anything.
‘He’s not who you think he is,’ I try again.
‘He’s the one with mental health issues.
He’s exploitative, psychologically coercive.
No one would believe it because he can charm the birds from the bloody trees, but he is. ’
Seeing her sceptical expression, I go on forcefully, ‘Everything you think you know about him is a lie. You might not believe me now, but you will. Just ask yourself why your relationship moved so fast. Was it his idea to live together, or yours?’
‘Mine.’ She immediately defends him.
‘Are you sure about that?’ I ask. I can see by the flash of uncertainty in her eyes that she isn’t.
‘I wanted to get away because I was on to him and he knew it. He knew he would no longer have access to the money I’d inherited, that I would take Evie away, so he got rid of me, or thought he had. And then he chose you.’
She looks away. ‘We need to check on Lina,’ she says.
Good God, can she not just muster up a little hatred for someone? ‘I’ve told you, she’s sleeping!’ I snap. ‘The only time she’s tolerable is when she’s quiet.’
Kara falls silent and I curse myself. I have to stop losing my temper around her. It’s not helping convince her I’m perfectly stable.
‘What do you mean, he chose me?’ she asks after a moment, her confused gaze coming back to me.
I sigh despairingly. ‘He doesn’t want a relationship with you, Kara. He doesn’t love you. It’s your house he wants. Your money.’ I spell it out. ‘What do you think will happen to you once he thinks he’s secured his future?’
She doesn’t answer, but I can tell by the tears sliding down her cheeks that she’s beginning to see the light.
‘If you have that baby, if he allows you to because he’s decided he wants the child, you’ll be diagnosed with postnatal depression before you’ve left the hospital.’ I force it home. ‘Trust me, I know. He will gather any ammunition he can use against you, and he will use it.’
She glances away again. ‘How can I know any of this is the truth?’ she asks, looking back at me. ‘That it’s not you who’s the liar? That you’re not doing all of this out of revenge?’
I concede her point with a thoughtful nod. It’s true enough that I do want revenge. What person who’d had their child taken from them, their life stolen, wouldn’t? She needs something more than my accusations to persuade her, naturally. I would. ‘Ask Jemma,’ I suggest.
She knits her brow in confusion.
I sigh inwardly. She can’t be that na?ve, surely? ‘You thought you could trust her, didn’t you?’ I ask, eyeing her interestedly. ‘So did I, but she’s just as bad as he is.’
Now she looks like a startled little bird.
‘Your precious friend was having an affair with your beloved husband and you didn’t even know about it,’ I inform her. ‘So if you want to learn the truth about Jack, ask Jemma. She knows everything.’