His father shakes his head. ‘Oh, Neil, I’m so sorry.’
‘Me too, I was a fool, knew what she was like when I met her, but kidded myself we had something special. She used to sleep with him in his caravan in Laurel Wood. Can you believe that?’
‘Can I help you?’
I startle, step away from the door. I recognise the woman staring at me from the top of the stairs as Neil’s mother. ‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Just a bit lost – it’s such a big house.’ I zip past her, and once downstairs, almost fall through the front door. The cold air tingles my cheeks and darkness swallows me as I head for the car.
And as I sit in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel, deep breathing in an effort to calm down, I realise the first domino fell long ago.
*
I’d borrowed Dad’s car to go to Elise’s funeral, and now, as I drive home through the darkness, my mind whirs. Rosamund mentioned Jackson’s caravan in Laurel Wood. And then there was that day at Drummondale House when we played Truth and Lie, and Jackson told us he grew up in a caravan. And now Neil has mentioned it.
I pull over into a lay-by, and leave the engine running. My heart thuds as I get Google Maps up on my phone. With shaking hands, I key in the address of the apartment Jackson and my mum shared in Tweedmouth, and see as I expand the map, there’s a wooded area nearby called Laurel Wood. It looks to be about a mile across.
Rain splatters the windscreen. I flick on the wipers.
Within seconds, I’m on the road once more.
Chapter 51
Present Day
Me
I haven’t always been the best person I could have been. I’ve let people down. I let my mum down. I should have been there for her. I regret that now, and I’m so sorry for the things I’ve done. But it’s too late for apologies. You have chosen to punish me, and there’s nothing I can do.
Rain splatters the window behind me, and I hear your car approaching. The snapping and cracking of sticks under slow-moving tyres as you drive through Laurel Wood. You will be here soon. You said you would be – that it’s almost time.
And I know, even if I beg and scream and cry, it will do no good: my life will soon be over.
But I’m not afraid. I can’t take any more of this misery. I’m ready. I want to die.
I hear the key turn in the lock, and the door open. I try to lift my head, but the room spins and I can barely move.
Why are you doing this? But you’ve told me so many times it’s almost a mantra. I know the answer – it’s because you love me.
Chapter 52
Present Day
Amelia
Wipers thrash across my windscreen – thud, thud, thud, and I can barely see through the hammering rain, but I know I’m close. I have to keep going.
After trawling country roads for another ten minutes, I slow to an almost stop. I’ve found the entrance to Laurel Wood. I indicate, and take a left turn down a narrow track.
Overhanging trees block the night sky, as I weave my way deeper and deeper. Have I made a terrible mistake? But it’s too late. There’s no way of turning back.
The sound of my tyres breaking twigs and branches as I crawl along is as loud as the pulse in my ears. My eyes flick to my rear-view at the swirling shadows folding around the car. Why didn’t I wait, come tomorrow in the daylight? Why didn’t I contact DI Beynon? A chill prickles my neck, as I imagine someone watching from the dense trees. I was a wreck before this, so I’m pretty sure this will finish me off.
I stop the car, and pick up my phone from the driver’s seat. I’ll call Inspector Beynon now. Tell her where I am.
I get through to DS McKay, and explain in a garbled, panicked fashion where I am and where I’m heading, and he promises to inform DI Beynon immediately. ‘Wait for us,’ he says, before ending the call.
I notice a dim light burning through the trees, and my heart thuds a warning as I take a deep breath and open the car door. I flick on my phone torch and climb out into the hammering rain. With the quietest of footsteps, I move to where the track widens. It’s as I take a bend I see the caravan. Its grubby, hanging baskets by the door hold nothing more than twigs. My torchlight picks out a wet cat climbing up the rusty metal steps. It leaps through a cat flap into the caravan.
Is this really where Rosamund came with Jackson to have sex behind Neil and Mum’s back? But then women found him irresistible. I think back to how Maddie swooned over him when we were at Drummondale House. How Mum fell for him so quickly. How the media painted him as a heart-breaking womaniser.
Mizzling rain stings my cheeks as I move closer. An old Clio Campus is parked up, and another car by the caravan is covered with old blankets. I drag up my hood and make my way over to it, looking about me before lifting the cover and shining the torch on the number plate. It’s Jackson’s car.
I drop the blanket, frozen, unable to move. Fighting back fear, I look about me, spotting a branch, thick and sturdy, on the wet ground. I pick it up and approach the caravan.
I push open the door, surprised to find it unlocked, and step inside. In the lounge area there’s a folded duvet and a pillow at the end of a sofa, and a closed laptop. A wheelchair is collapsed in the corner – Mum’s wheelchair. The whole place smells awful, the pungent hum of pee overpowering.
I grip the branch
