She looks at me with wary trepidation. ‘Was he ever violent towards you?’ she asks.
‘He killed me,’ I remind her flatly. ‘I’d say that was pretty violent, wouldn’t you?’
She glances down, looking so upset I almost want to stop this and walk away. But how can I? My daughter needs me.
‘What are you going to do?’ she asks again, her gaze travelling to the knife I have clutched to my side which, I realise, I’ve unconsciously tightened my grip on.
‘Well,’ I try to relax a little, for her benefit, ‘I thought we’d have a cosy little chat with Jemma over a nice cup of tea and then wait for Jack. I’m sure he’ll be wending his way home?—’
I stop, my eyes swivelling to the hall as there’s an urgent rap on the front door. ‘Remember what I said.’ My gaze goes back toKara, who’s already getting to her feet. I point the knife to slow her gallop. ‘One false move or wrong word and you watch her die. If you don’t care about her, think of her children. You don’t want to be responsible for another child’s death, do you?’
I see the flash of fire in her eyes and realise I have to be careful. I’m deliberately touching raw nerves, but I don’t want to push her too far. It appears she has some backbone after all.
‘Slowly,’ I warn her, retreating to the kitchen as she heads to the front door.
Closing the kitchen door just enough to allow me to peer through the crack, I watch as she braces herself.
No sooner has she opened the front door than Jemma pushes through it. ‘I told Andrew you weren’t well,’ she says, scanning Kara’s face warily.
Kara says nothing. I notice her gaze drifting briefly towards me before she turns away to lead jittery Jemma to the lounge.
Once they’re out of sight, I step out of the kitchen, careful not to make a sound.
‘Before you say anything, there’s something I need to tell you.’ Jemma dives straight in, obviously about to tell her how her having sex with another woman’s husband didn’t mean anything, how much she regrets her moment of madness, etc., etc. She surprises me when she does speak. ‘It’s Natalia,’ she says. ‘I think she’s still alive.’
‘Well, that’s let the cat out of the bag, hasn’t it?’ I say whimsically, causing her to leap almost out of her skin. ‘Why don’t you tell her the truth, Jemma? Tell her you knew very well I was alive. That you have done for some time.’
FIFTY-NINE
LINA
Lina heard it again, an urgent whisper. ‘Nan?Nan, please wake up.’
A bubble of hope surfaced inside her. Evie had come to help her, an old woman who didn’t deserve help after the awful things she’d done at her daughter’s behest. It had to stop. Now. Lina knew that Natalia had only meant to keep her quiet once she’d threatened to expose her, but she could havekilledher. Had she meant to? It was a horrifying thought.
She had to do something. She’d promised herself she would be there for Evie. She was of no use to her lying pathetic and helpless on the kitchen floor.Come on, get up!She willed her stubborn body to obey. She needed to get Evie out of here, away from this place and the person who claimed to care for her, to know her, but who actually knew so little about her she couldn’t see she would psychologically destroy her.
Attempting to focus, she blinked hard and tried to raise herself. It was hopeless. Her head swam nauseatingly and it was as if her limbs were made of lead. Peeling her parched tongue from the roof of her mouth, she tried to articulate but couldn’t.
‘Lie still, Nan,’ Evie urged her, clearly frightened. ‘You’ll hurt yourself.’
‘I’m all right,’ Lina managed, her words emerging elongated and slurred.
‘You’re not!’ Evie insisted. ‘What happened? Are you hurt? Can you move everything?’
Lina smiled. ‘As well as I ever could,’ she assured her, hoping to God that she could. She’d lived in dread of having a stroke since being diagnosed with congestive heart disorder. Her lungs were constantly filling with blood, as were her legs and feet, making her breathless and slow. If she was completely immobilised, it would leave the way clear for Natalia to gain access to Evie. After exacting revenge in whatever twisted way she deemed appropriate – and Lina was sure she intended to – she would try to convince Evie to leave with her. Lina had failed her daughter – these were her just desserts – but she couldn’t fail her granddaughter. Shewouldn’t.
Making a supreme effort, she heaved herself to sitting, and then, feeling woozy, gave herself a moment.
‘What happened?’ Evie crouched beside her, wrapping an arm around her.
Lina hesitated. When she’d told Evie her mother was alive, the news had rocked the girl to the core. She’d looked at Lina in that way people did when her muddled memory failed her, with something between sympathy and pity. ‘No, Nan,’ she’d said kindly. ‘Mum died, remember?’
Lina had reached for her hand. ‘She didn’t, Evie,’ she’d whispered. ‘She was here. It was her who left the locket for Kara to find.’
Evie studied her mistrustfully. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she’d said, her voice tremulous. ‘She can’t be. She would have contacted me.’
‘She wants to meet you.’ Lina had relayed what her daughter wanted her to, hating herself for it as she saw the bewildered confusion in her granddaughter’s eyes. ‘She wants to explainwhy she hasn’t been in touch with you. She said she would be at the Elgar statue in Worcester town centre at three o’clock, but you need to be careful, Evie. She’s?—’
