I think about it. ‘No, I don’t think so. It would hurt too much. Dylan needs a fresh start with no reminders of his past. In a few weeks when the dust settles, you should begin the adoption process formally, but I don’t want my daughter’s name brought into it. Name me as Dylan’s biological mother and I’ll sign any paperwork you want me to, and speak to any social workers so it’ll go smoothly.’
Jane appears reluctant at the thought of having to lie; I must convince her this is the best way. ‘If you really want to be a mother again and the council won’t let you because they say you’re too old, then this will be your only opportunity. How much do you want another baby?’
She wrings her hands and finally nods. ‘Do you mind if Elsie and I have a conversation?’ she asks, and the two disappear upstairs into the kitchen while I make the most of my remaining time with my grandson.
When they return, I reluctantly hand Dylan to Jane and she’s instantly smitten. ‘If it was up to me, I’d take him right away,’ Jane says. ‘But I need to talk to my husband and my children first before we make a decision as a family. Can you give me a few hours?’
‘Yes,’ I say.
Jane is as good as her word. Just after 11 p.m. and when I’ve finished feeding Dylan, she and her husband appear and we talk until the early hours. By the time they have finished, they give each other a look as if to say they agree that they are making the right decision. And I know I am too. My grandson and I are to be parted.
‘When would you like us to take him?’ Jane asks.
‘Tonight. Now,’ I say. ‘Elsie, would you mind gathering his things?’
I ask for a few minutes alone with Dylan, and then it’s just him and me in the basement that has become his home. I hug him and kiss him and tell him how much I love him, then dab at my tears as they fall on to his mop of dark hair. Finally, I call Elsie to take him away from me as I cannot bear to watch him leave in another woman’s arms. I am grateful he will never see this room again. Moments later, I hear the front door close, a car engine start and pull away up the street as Dylan’s new family leave with their son.
Elsie puts an arm around my shoulders but I tell her that it’s all right, I’ll be okay. I thank her for everything and apologise for bringing such chaos into her life. And then I return to Nina, still asleep in her bed, completely unaware of what I have taken from her. I pull her duvet back and climb in, curling up behind her, holding on to her and vowing never to let go of her again. For the rest of my life, her safety and mental well-being will be my only priorities.
CHAPTER 75
MAGGIE
I remain in darkness as the hours pass. My ear is pressed to the tiny section of the partition wall I’ve chipped away at. I don’t want to move from here until I know what has happened to my grandson’s body.
My neck has stiffened, my head throbs and there’s a constant tearing pain in my left leg where I have damaged a ligament. But this all pales into insignificance compared to the pain that Dylan went through in his final moments. My poor, sweet Dylan.
I have screamed until I am hoarse, begged Nina to find him help, and made my fingertips bleed as I scratched away at the walls like a caged rat. But I’ve heard nothing all night that indicates she is out of her psychosis or has heard my pleas. This is what they call karma, I think, for what I allowed to happen to Sally Ann Mitchell. Perhaps if I had helped her, the gods would have helped Dylan.
I have been crying constantly for what has happened to my grandson. My worst fears all those years ago have been realised. The sacrifice I made to keep them apart has been for nothing because Dylan is now dead. The beautiful baby I cried over as I gave him away is lying at the foot of our staircase because of his mother, my daughter. And for the first time in her life, I despise her for it. I wish she were dead.
I don’t know what time it is when I eventually take myself back up the stairs, defeated. I crawl up them one by one and I eventually reach the bathroom. There, I rise up until my injured leg threatens to fell me. I scoop cold water into my hands and pat it on my face, leaving it wet as I limp into the bedroom and pray that the lumps in my breast and under my arm are malignant. I want this to be cancer and I want it to kill me. I don’t want to spend a moment longer locked away in this hell. I want to die as soon as possible and let my stained soul fly free.
The end goal of my other escape attempts was to leave my situation, not my daughter. Despite all that she’s done to me, I wouldn’t have cut her out of my life or have left her alone. Not until today. Now, that’s exactly what I want. She carries death around with the casualness of a handbag. It has taken me most of her adult life to understand that all she touches becomes fetid.
Through the gloom I stare towards the window. I’ve lost hope that I might see the flashing red-and-blue lights of an ambulance, which would indicate that Nina has awoken and realised what she has done. This time, she does not have me to cover up her actions or protect her from herself. She must face up to and live with what she has done. She may have the freedom to leave this house whenever she likes, but she is trapped with herself as much as I am trapped in this room.
I close my eyes and my brain rewinds and replays the crunch of the metal cuff against Dylan’s skull. It’s a sound that will haunt me to my grave, which I hope to reach soon. However, I know that despite my many other terrible decisions, I did the right thing in giving him away. The way he saw right from wrong and chose helping me over believing his mother assures me that he was raised with compassion. And that’s more than he could ever have received with Nina in charge of his welfare.
There is something else that weighs heavily on my mind. I remember where I’d seen the look in Nina’s eyes as she attacked her son. I caught it only once before; in the fraction of a second it appeared as she hit her father over the head with the golf club. Now I can see it’s different to what happens when her psychosis takes over. The psychosis completely absorbs her and acts for her. But with her dad and Dylan, she was present in the moment rather than being swallowed by it. I shudder to think what this means.
I shut my eyelids tight until they hurt. If I have my way, they will never open again.
PART THREE
TEN MONTHS LATER
CHAPTER 76
MAGGIE
The dining-room window is open and I hear the sound of birdsong coming from outside. Not so long ago, it would have been the highlight of my day. Now, highlights don’t exist. Every echo is white noise to me.
Nina unpeels plastic lids from the Tupperware, allowing the steam and aromas to rise and spread across the room. It makes me nauseous. I recognise the label on the plastic bag as the takeaway that Alistair and I regularly used on Saturday nights. After his death I refused to order from there again, needing no reminders of the life we shared. Given my time again, I’d have disposed of his body elsewhere so that Nina and I could have moved away from this cursed house and started again. I was wrong not to. I was wrong about so many things.
‘Help yourself to dinner,’ she says. I bypass the rice and beef in a black-bean sauce and take two thick triangles of prawn toast instead. I’m not hungry and I don’t really want them; however, my stomach is gurgling like a drain. Perhaps the toast might settle it a little.
Despite my four layers of clothing, I’m freezing. Nina has taken to leaving the heating on during the daytime since the weather turned. But because the weight has fallen off me, I have no fat reserves to protect me from any chill. Much of the time, I keep cocooned inside my duvet.
