Everyone was shocked when they discovered what had happened. Beth has been her amazing supportive self, and the school mums were suitably stunned and apologetic – sending me flowers, and bringing round cakes and casseroles. Mum and Dad were devastated, feeling somehow responsible. They even remembered talking to the little boy and girl at the care home all those years ago, but felt they were unable to take on siblings, which was why they hadn’t asked to adopt Nicole and Callum. It had been nothing to do with them ‘preferring’ me. They had simply wanted to give Beth a single brother or sister, and I happened to be the lucky one.
My heart breaks for the child Nicole was back then. But she let it twist her into a monster. She was consumed by her bitterness. I wonder if she’ll ever let it go or whether it will eat at her for the rest of her life.
‘Come and sit back down,’ Jared calls to Joe, whose crazy song and dance is now losing steam. ‘The movie’s about to start.’
As it’s Christmas Eve, we’re watchingElf– such a wonderfully, funny, feel-good movie. Joe bounces onto the sofa and I count my blessings once again.
I suppose, after everything, I could have told Jared to get lost. I could have kicked him out and felt totally justified. He had believed Darcy – a relative stranger – rather than his own wife. But… I know how utterly convincing Darcy could be. How she manipulated him by subtly discrediting me. She played a good game, and it was her intention to make me suffer. To split my family up. Well… no way is she getting her wish. I’ll fight to get back to the life we had. Before Darcy.
Jared is making up for it. Helping me recover from my ordeal. Making sure I’m okay and that I have everything I need. Well… Idohave everything I need. It’s right here in this room.
Thirty-Five
Two Years Later
She stops pushing the wheelchair for a moment, leans down and says something to the old woman, making her laugh. For one worrying moment, I think I might have made a mistake and got the wrong person. But, as she leans, her wavy chestnut hair falls forward over her shoulder and she pushes it back with a casual flick – I’d know that gesture anywhere.
This small Edinburgh park is peaceful and quiet, set in the centre of a residential square, lined with beautiful, four-storey, Georgian houses, a Christmas tree in each drawing-room window. The weather is clear and bright, biting cold. We don’t get days as chilly as this down south. I watch the two of them make their slow progress along the sycamore-lined path, stopping now and again to chat and laugh about something or other. You’d think you were looking at a grandmother with her dutiful grown-up granddaughter. I know better.
I’m not sure how I feel about seeing her again. I’ve been waiting for this day for so long, and now it’s finally here, I can’t quite believe it. It doesn’t seem real. I hope I don’t fall apart. I thought I would feel excitement, instead, a fascinated dread clutches at my stomach and a strange numbness overtakes my brain. Yet, there’s also a boiling anger deep down. I know it won’t go away until I’ve done this.
‘Okay,’ I say to myself, striding purposefully across the short grass towards them. I know what I want to say, I’ve rehearsed it enough times. As I get closer, I note her chain-store clothes, fake leather boots, and cheap dye job. Her designer days are well and truly behind her yet she still manages to look elegant.
She might have changed her appearance but I, on the other hand, look just as I’ve always done. Perhaps just a little older and a little slimmer. I know she’ll recognise me as soon as I draw close enough. I made a special effort today – my auburn curls are tamed into soft waves, my wool coat is stylish and fitted. My boots are soft, expensive leather, as is my handbag. All these trimmings don’t stop my heart jangling with nerves.
I finally had the operation on my knee. It went well, and now I lift weights and run every day to keep myself strong. I also enrolled in self-defence and kickboxing classes. I’m fitter than I’ve ever been in my life. It makes me feel more empowered. We may think we live in a civilised society where physical strength is no longer necessary. Where the mind alone is all we need to survive. But I know different. We’re all just animals fighting for survival. Struggling for our place in the world. And when we find that perfect place, we’ll bite and scratch and hiss and spit to keep it from being taken away. I’m not prepared to lose my place. Not now. Not ever again. I will fight for my family with whatever means I have available to me.
I wasn’t about to let my fear of this woman hang over my head for the rest of my life. How could I ever truly relax my guard knowing she was still out there? Still a threat.
I walk in a diagonal line across the grass, drawing closer. I hear her talking to the old woman. She’s describing what she’s going to cook for supper this evening and – I almost laugh out loud – she’s speaking to the old woman in a perfect Scottish accent.
Any second she’ll glance up and… There – she’s seen me. My heart jolts. My stomach flutters. Her expression falters for a moment but she quickly regains her composure. I can almost hear the cogs in her brain whirring and clicking, calculating what I’m doing here and how she should react.
‘It took me a while,’ I say, coming to a stop in front of the wheelchair, ignoring its elderly occupant and staring instead into Nicole’s blue eyes. ‘But I finally tracked you down.’
She blinks. ‘Sorry, I think you might be mistaken. I’ve no idea who you are.’
I shake my head. ‘You can drop the Mrs Doubtfire act. You sound fucking ridiculous.’
‘Well now, that’s a bit rude.’
‘For God’s sake, Darcy – or Nicole, or whoever the hell you are today – I know it’s you.’ Her face is fuller. Less chiselled. Her brown, wavy hair makes her look less glamorous, more homely. But her eyes are still the same – calculating and hard.
‘Well, good for you,’ she says in an English accent. ‘Five gold stars to Louisa “clever-clogs” Sullivan.’
‘It’s over, Nicole,’ I say.
She gives a dry laugh.
‘I found you,’ I say.
‘So you did. Well done.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘So, come on then, how did you do it? How did you manage to track me down? I thought I covered my tracks pretty well. And I didn’t have you marked as particularly bright, Louisa.’
I smile at her put-down, enjoying the fact that I have her rattled. ‘You made the mistake of telling me your real name,’ I say.
‘Yes,’ she drawls, ‘but back then, I didn’t think you’d be around to use it against me. I had your death all worked out. Such a waste of a good plan.’
‘Anyway,’ I continue, ‘I dug into your past. I was a journalist, remember? I discovered how you spent most of your late teens and early twenties tricking old people out of their money, befriending wealthy, childless widows and widowers and conning them into giving you their cash, or leaving you part of their estates when they died. You were clever about it. Always having an alibi, always moving on before anyone grew suspicious, travelling around the country, acquiring new identities to evade getting caught. With your brother to act as your gopher. And then you met Mike and hit the jackpot… until you cocked it all up with your insane revenge plan.’
