Epilogue
I’m lost, thrashing hopelessly in the dark, unforgiving sea, trying desperately to orientate myself and work out which way is up.
Pressure like something pushing inward against my oesophagus causes my throat to constrict, and in that moment, I wonder whether to surrender, to open my mouth and let the water come in and wash away my pain.
Can you cry underwater? I wonder. That’s when I feel it, a hand closing over mine, tugging me gently to the surface.
A voice, childlike and scared, urging me, ‘Kara. Kara, please wake up.’
I prise my grainy eyelids open to find Evie looking imploringly down at me.
Blinking hard against the blinding white lights overhead, I try to place where I am.
Hospital. As the distinctive smell of antiseptic and cleaning fluids assaults my nostrils, panic rips through me and my hand goes instinctively to my baby.
‘He’s safe,’ Evie says quickly. ‘He’s okay, Kara, I promise.’ She squeezes my hand more tightly.
I search her face. Her complexion is paper-white, her eyes red-rimmed and glassy with tears.
‘You banged your head,’ she tells me. ‘PC Patel broke your fall but you hit your head on the banister. The doctor says you’re going to be fine, but you need to rest.’
Relief crashes through me, and I nod weakly.
‘They took Dad away.’ She averts her gaze, swallowing hard. ‘I’m not sure what’s happening or when I’ll see him again.’
My throat closes, my own tears rising as I picture Jack, so filled with rage and contempt he would hurt me, hurt my baby.
A hard lump expands in my chest as I imagine that my beautiful, faithful dog might have been scared in her last moments.
The person who would do these things wasn’t him.
He was a different person. As different as night and day.
Even so, I don’t think I will ever be able to bring myself to see him again.
‘I’m sorry,’ Evie murmurs, tears escaping her eyes as she looks back at me.
I have no idea what to say. How to reassure her. ‘What are you sorry for?’ I whisper.
‘Everything.’ She breathes in hard. ‘Dad. Natalia. Covering up for him.’
‘Covering up how?’ I ask.
She’s quiet for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Then, ‘He pushed her, but I killed her, didn’t I?’ she murmurs.
‘Shh,’ I urge her, glancing towards the door.
There appears to be no one around, and another surge of relief sweeps through me.
Jack’s mistakes are not hers. We’d told the police Natalia fell.
I’m not sure whether I’m doing right or wrong, but it seems best to leave it that way.
‘You were protecting him, weren’t you?’ I ask, gauging her carefully.
She nods, barely perceptibly.
‘Why?’
‘Because Mum was so horrible to him.’ She shrugs awkwardly. ‘She used to scream at him that he wasn’t normal, that he needed help. And he would go quiet, so quiet. I hated that.’ She stops and runs a hand under her nose.
‘She could have helped him,’ she goes on falteringly.
‘She could have heard through his silence how lonely he was, how desperate he felt trapped inside himself. That his silence was to prevent the others coming out. He was scared. But mostly he was scared for me. He was trying to protect me, in his own way. He just didn’t get that silence didn’t work for me. I could never silence them.’
The genetic link. His father, who I suspect is very much alive, along with the rest of his family. I can’t ask her about that now. It’s too much. For me too.
‘Will you help me?’ She looks pleadingly at me. ‘Will you at least let me see you sometimes. I’m not sure where I’ll be. I think Nan will need more care than I can give her, but I’d like to stay in contact with you and the baby. I know you probably won’t…’
I squeeze the hand still clasping mine tightly. ‘I said I was here for you, Evie, and I am,’ I assure her.
She nods, attempting to hold her tears back. To no avail. They come anyway, rolling steadily down her cheeks.
I tug her hand, easing her towards me.
She hesitates, and then lurches forward to lock her arms around me.
I hug her close. How can I not? She needs professional help. Help that should have been sought for her years ago. It will be a challenge, but I hope I can give her the love and security she desperately needs. I promised myself I wouldn’t abandon her, and I won’t.
‘He’s kicking.’ I offer her a small smile. ‘Would you like to feel?’
She pulls away, her look one of surprise. And then she smiles back, a smile that lights up her eyes and chases the shadows away, for the moment.
* * *
If you couldn’t put down The Wife Before and want to read another gripping thriller by Sheryl Browne, don’t miss The Affair!
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