I wait five minutes before getting up to join them. I can barely trust myself to speak to Nigel. I hear laughter from the dining room. They’re all in there: Mum, Amelia, Evie, Nathan, Ruby, and now Adrian and Nigel. Adrian is standing awkwardly by the door, surveying the scene, clearly disconcerted. Nigel has joined the others at the table and Ruby is sitting on his lap, her arms around his neck. She seems delighted to see him. Nathan looks on jealously. There is no sign of Julia. Ruby is chatting away to Nigel, about the rabbits and playing dolls with Evie.
‘Am I going home with you, Daddy?’ she asks, her huge eyes searching his face. He blushes.
‘I have an unavoidable business trip next week.’ He looks at me hopefully. ‘I was wondering if you could stay with Aunty Kirsty, just until we sort everything out.’
Mum answers for me. ‘Of course Ruby can stay here. For as long as she needs,’ she says to Nigel.
I wonder if Selena had made a will. And what about Nathan? Now he knows he’s her real father, will he want custody?
Evie looks delighted and claps excitedly. ‘It’s like having a twin,’ she says, throwing an arm around Ruby’s neck. I look towards Nathan. Someone should tell Nigel who Ruby’s real father is. Will Ruby’s case have to go to the family court? Or will Nathan automatically get custody? Or Mum? She is Ruby’s grandmother, after all.
‘Are you happy to stay here?’ Nigel asks Ruby gently, and we all wait for her response. Evie and Amelia watch her with interest, their forkfuls of food paused before their mouths.
‘I like it here,’ she says. ‘But I’ll miss you and the Barn.’
‘I’ll come and see you again after my business trip. Okay?’
She nods eagerly.
‘And you look so well, my petal,’ adds Nigel.
‘I feel well,’ she says. ‘I don’t need my wheelchair or my leg braces.’ Nigel meets my eye over the top of Ruby’s head and I nod in acknowledgement.
There is no mistake, much though I wish there was. The proof is right here, before our eyes. Ruby’s regaining her health because there was never anything wrong with her. Selena was making her ill.
I’m with Mum clearing up in the kitchen. She had a heart-to-heart with Nigel over dinner, and I wonder if he’s told her about Selena and the Munchausen syndrome by proxy?
She’s loading the dishwasher and I’m wiping down the worktops when Evie comes running in. ‘Mummy!’ she cries. ‘The wabbits. They’re still in their run. They need to go back into their hutch otherwise the foxes will get them.’
‘Can’t it wait five minutes, honey? I’ve nearly finished here.’
Mum tuts. ‘Don’t worry, my lovely. Nana will do it.’
‘No,’ I say to Evie firmly, irritated with Mum for interfering. I was only going to be five minutes. Would things ever change between us? ‘I’ll do it. Don’t worry. The rabbits will be fine.’ I kiss her soft cheek and go into the garden. It’s cold and dark, the light from the kitchen illuminating only the patio. I should have fetched my coat but I was making a point to Mum and didn’t have time to go rooting around in the understairs cupboard. If I had, she’d be the one out here doing this. I stride across the lawn. The frost has already begun to set in and the grass crunches under my feet. I walk blindly into the darkness. As I approach I can just make out the rabbits in the distance, cuddled up in the corner of their run, and feel bad for forgetting to put them in. Usually Amelia would do it but she’s seemed so distracted since she came back from Orla’s. Every time I vow to talk to her about it, something comes up. I feel as if I’ve neglected her since Selena’s death. I wish she’d talk to me about what’s bothering her. She told me she doesn’t know who to trust. Why would she say that?
I take my phone from my back pocket and use my torch to light the way.
I reach the run. It’s under the tree and the rope swing knocks against my head as I bend down. I lift the rabbits out, and bundle first Mrs Whiskerson, then Princess into their hutch, shutting the door firmly.
I’m about to stand up again when I hear a crunch behind me. I instantly freeze. Before I can react, I feel a hand on my shoulder and I’m wrenched to my feet. I cry out but a hand is pressed firmly over my mouth. I struggle, and kick someone – I don’t know who. Strong arms have grabbed me and the smell of unwashed flesh and damp clothes fills my nostrils, making me gag.
‘All right, Kirsty,’ says a familiar voice in my ear.
36
Dean.
The realization makes me struggle even more, but he has me firmly in his grip, one arm across my chest, the other clamped around my shoulders, hand over my mouth. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ he hisses. He has me pinned so tightly against him that I can feel his erection prodding into my back. I’m repulsed – he’s getting a kick out of this. He slowly turns us both round so that I’m facing the house. I can just see Mum in the kitchen – she seems very far away, no more than a silhouette.
‘Now,’ he says, ‘if I take my hand away, you promise not to scream?’ His voice is gruff and he sounds a little out of breath.
I nod vigorously. I pray that the children stay in the house. I can’t bear the thought of them coming out to find me. I’m no match for Dean. He’s nearly a foot taller and twice as strong. If he’s going to hurt anyone, I’d rather it be me.
He removes his hand from my mouth but he still has his arms around me.
‘I’ve been waiting a long time to get you on your own,’ he says.
‘W-what do you want?’ My throat is so dry, and my breathing so ragged, I’m surprised I can get the words out.
