She gives me a reassuring smile but I don’t believe her. And it flashes through my mind that Julia was alone in her room when Selena was pushed, and has no alibi. Just like Nathan.
I bump into Mum in the hallway. She looks frazzled.
‘Where’s Ruby now?’
She fiddles with the wedding and engagement rings on her finger: a plain gold band, beneath a single emerald between two small diamonds. When Dad died she told me she’d never take them off. ‘They were getting cold outside so now she’s with Amelia, Evie and Nathan in the front room. They’re playing Connect 4.’
I fill her in on what Julia said about contacting the GP regarding Ruby’s medical records.
Mum’s whole body relaxes in relief. ‘Thank God,’ she says. ‘I’ve been so worried about doing something wrong and giving her food that could harm her.’
‘There’s something else.’ I touch the pocket of my jeans where the note is. ‘I need to talk to you. About Uncle Owen.’
Mum stands up straighter and her voice takes on a wary tone. ‘What about him?’
I incline my head towards the playroom. ‘In there,’ I say.
Her lips have gone thin, in annoyance or disapproval.
She follows me into the room. The TV has been left on pause, Scooby Doo, frozen, pulling a silly face. I reach for the remote and turn it off. ‘Can you close the door?’ I ask her.
She sighs theatrically but does as I ask.
Without a word, I retrieve the note and hand it to her. Puzzled, she takes it from me and begins to read.
I watch her carefully. ‘It sounds like whoever sent it was blackmailing her,’ I say.
I know about your dad.
I expect Mum to brush me off, or purse her lips and tell me it means nothing. But she doesn’t. Instead her face drains of colour and she slumps on to the sofa.
‘I’m going to have to show it to the police,’ I add. ‘I don’t know how it got into my drawer. A cry for help from Selena, perhaps.’ I don’t voice the deep-seated fear that Adrian might have written it.
Mum places a hand on her heart. Her reaction is worrying me. ‘Are you feeling okay?’ I’m suddenly afraid she might be having a heart attack.
She doesn’t reply. Instead she stares at the note, as if hoping she’s misread the words. Her hands begin to shake.
‘Mum?’
When she looks at me her face is filled with such fear that anxiety blooms in my stomach. ‘What does this person know about Uncle Owen?’ I urge, fear making my voice harder than I intend.
She takes her glasses off and rubs at the corner of her left eye.
What is she not telling me? ‘The police will want to speak to Uncle Owen. I told them you keep in touch with him. Have they contacted you yet?’ I can feel my anger rising at her resistance to talking. ‘For God’s sake, Mum! This is serious. You can’t keep protecting Selena. She’s dead now. Somebody killed her and the police will want to talk to her dad!’
‘They won’t find him.’ Her voice is so quiet it takes me a few seconds to register what she said.
‘What do you mean?’ The anxiety travels to my chest and I reach for my inhaler. ‘I thought you were in touch with him.’
She looks up at me. ‘I’ve not been in touch with him.’ And then she surprises me by crumpling the note into a ball. ‘And you can never show this to the police.’
I take a puff of my inhaler. I’ve never seen Mum like this. She’s usually so together, so capable. I perch next to her. ‘Mum, you’re scaring me.’
She pushes her glasses back on. I notice a tear seep out of her eye, travel down her cheek and disappear into her jawline. I’m mesmerized by it. Before Selena died I can’t remember the last time I saw Mum cry. Definitely not since I’ve been an adult. She would get a bit teary around Christmas, and Natasha’s birthday, just a few seconds when her eyes would smart and her voice would thicken, but just as quickly she would compose herself, making me doubt it had happened at all. ‘I never wanted to involve you. Once I tell you this, it will sit with you for ever. You’ll be complicit. I never wanted to put that on you.’
My stomach tightens. ‘What is it?’
She sighs and squeezes the note with her fist. ‘The police won’t find Owen because he died back in 2001.’ She blinks at me.
