She nods.
‘But why lie, Rosamund? Why pretend?’
‘I wanted to stay pregnant,’ she says, her voice intense. ‘Is that so awful? I wanted to believe my baby was still inside me.’
‘I get that,’ I say, and I do, I really do.
‘And I couldn’t bear the thought of telling Neil.’ She leans forward and grabs tissues from a box on the table, presses them against her nose.
‘He still believes you’re pregnant?’
She nods. ‘He’s been working away for the last two months.’ She shakes her head. ‘He’s always away.’
‘But you’ll have to tell him sometime.’
She nods again. ‘Don’t you think I know that?’
A painful silence falls once more, as all the questions I have lined up in my head feel invasive, unsupportive, wrong.
‘Listen, could I have a glass of wine?’
‘Of course.’ I wander into the kitchen, grab another glass and the bottle, and return.
As I pour, she goes on. ‘I fell. Stumbled backwards, hitting my back against the coffee table. That’s how it happened. That’s how I lost him.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, sitting down once more.
‘Me too.’ She turned watery eyes on me. ‘Does it get any easier?’
I look down, and run my hand over my stomach. ‘You learn to live with the loss, but it will always be there. It’s grief, after all.’
She touches my cheek, looks deep into my eyes. ‘You know you have your mum’s caring nature, Amelia. You may not be able to play tennis like Lark, or be academic like Thomas, but you have the best quality of all – kindness and understanding.’
‘Thanks,’ I say, feeling myself blush.
‘You’ve had far too much loss, Amelia,’ she says, squeezing my hand. ‘I pray you find Lark one day.’
I force back tears. ‘I hope so too.’ There’s a beat before I add, ‘I thought I saw her earlier.’ I look over at a photo of my sister on the dresser.
Rosamund looks to where I’m staring, and her eyes widen. ‘Really?’
‘Mmm. It wasn’t her, of course. But I sometimes think I see her, you know.’
She shuffles closer, and rests her hand on my knee. ‘I know exactly what you mean,’ she says. ‘I see Elise all the time.’
*
‘It makes no sense. Why would Finn kill Maddie?’ I say to Rosamund, combing my fingers through my hair, a half-drunk glass of wine cradled in my mitts. I hadn’t meant to stray back onto the subject, but drinking on an empty stomach has loosened my tongue, and I’m now flopped in a relaxed state, my legs curled up under me on the sofa, twittering on. ‘And you know what else? I keep thinking about the Monopoly counter.’ I lean forward and splash more wine into both our glasses, knowing I’m being an idiot.
‘Monopoly counter? What Monopoly counter?’
‘The top hat.’ I curl my legs back under me. ‘Maddie picked it up when she left your cottage the night she died.’
‘Did she? Whatever for?’ She leans back in the chair, and takes a gulp of wine.
‘Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s just she was holding it when Dad brought her back to the cottage, as though it meant something to her. It was from the game you and Elise were playing before she went missing.’
‘Sounds like something and nothing,’ she says. She knocks back the last of her wine. ‘Anyway,’ she says rising to her feet. ‘I should probably make a move. It’s getting late.’ She pauses. ‘You won’t say anything to anyone about the baby?’ she says. ‘Not until I can find the right moment to tell Neil. He’s in Scotland, hoping he’ll find something that will lead to Elise, so I can’t tell him until the weekend.’
‘But you will tell him?’
‘Of course, I just dread it, that’s all. This news on top of Elise’s disappearance will break him.’
She turns and heads for her coat. And as she slips slender arms into the sleeves, she adds, ‘There’s going to be an appeal soon. I just can’t see what good it will do, but I guess the police know best, and Neil is desperate.’
‘It will keep Elise in the public’s mind,’ I say.
‘Well it didn’t do any good in the search for Lark and Jackson, did it?’
I feel her comment like a slap.
‘And all the publicity there’s been around Elise makes me feel violated, as though everyone’s staring and gossiping.’
‘It won’t go on forever, Rosamund,’ I say. ‘Make the most of the press while you can.’
But I understand how she feels. The national papers have connected Lark and Elise’s disappearances. Put their photos together on the front page. Two pretty blonde teenagers disappearing without trace sold papers. And there was a feature on Jackson’s past almost identical to one that had appeared when he and Lark disappeared. It told of how he left home at eighteen, went to live in America right up until his parents’ death three years ago. Told of how he’d moved in with my mum. How he’d split up her marriage. But this time they’d tracked down an old girlfriend over in the US, who’d talked freely about how he’d used her, slept with other women, and left her broken-hearted.
I wasn’t surprised they described Jackson as a womaniser, though I was unsure of the relevance. And the media had simply joined the dots between Lark and Elise, and made a wiggly line.
After pulling on her boots, Rosamund leans in and kisses my cheek. ‘Take care, Amelia,’ she says, and with a waft of expensive perfume, she’s gone.
Chapter 44
Present Day
Amelia
‘Let me treat you to your cut and blow-dry, or whatever you young women do to your hair these days.’ Dad grabs his wallet and hands me a wad of ten-pound notes.
‘You don’t need to do this, Dad.’ I’m not even sure I want to go into Berwick. I look dreadful, and feel more than a bit dodgy after drinking too much last night. Quite frankly, having my hair cut really doesn’t feature highly on my life plan right now.
‘Take the
