‘She’s home?’ Spencer asked.
‘Yeah, came back last night,’ Carol told him.
‘My mum’s dead!’ Holly gasped, a stricken expression on her deathly white face. ‘That – that man killed her!’
‘No, she’s not, love, she’s safe in her bed,’ Carol reassured her.
‘Not that mum,’ Holly wailed. ‘My real mum. Anna.’
Questioning looks passed between the adults in the room.
‘You’re confused, love,’ Carol said softly, stroking Holly’s face. ‘I promise you your mum’s fine. I was with her not long ago. She’s still poorly, but she’s in bed.’
‘Noooo . . .’ Holly shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. ‘He killed her. He – he shot her.’
‘I think someone had best go and get her mum to calm her down,’ Spencer said when Holly started gasping for breath again.
‘It’s OK, we’ve got her,’ Suzie said, walking into the room with Gee and a dazed-looking Josie.
‘She must have woke up after youse came up here,’ Gee explained quietly as they led Josie to an armchair. ‘She was swaying at the top of the stairs when we came in after talking to the pigs. Sorry, police officers,’ he corrected himself, remembering that there were four uniforms in the room.
‘Don’t worry, it’s better than some of the shit we get called,’ Hayes quipped.
‘Ms Evans, are you all right?’ Spencer asked, peering at her and wondering if she, too, had gone into shock after hearing of her daughter’s ordeal.
‘I think she’s had strong meds,’ Carol whispered. ‘Looked proper out of it when me and Gee went to hers earlier.’
Nodding, Spencer squatted down in front of Holly, and said, ‘Your mum’s here now, Holly. Take deep breaths like the lady showed you . . .’
‘She – she’s not my mum!’ Holly squawked, her eyes bulging. ‘She’s not my . . . mum!’
‘OK, love, calm down,’ Carol urged.
‘She’s right,’ Josie said quietly.
‘What?’ All heads turned in her direction.
‘She’s right,’ Josie repeated, the dazed look in her tearful eyes replaced by a look of sheer resignation. ‘I’m not her mum. And her name’s not Holly, it’s Charlotte . . .’
Epilogue
Holly sat stiffly on the couch in the family liaison officer’s office at the station. Suzie was sitting beside her, and they were waiting for Holly’s case worker to arrive.
‘Are you feeling OK, hon?’ Suzie asked, touching her hand.
Holly nodded and forced a tiny smile, but it was a lie. She wasn’t all right, and doubted she ever would be again. Her entire life had been turned upside down in the two months since Dominic Cooper had broken in to Suzie’s house. The nightmares had already formed a crack in the wall she had built to protect herself from the traumatic memories, but the sound of Cooper’s deep voice and sinister laugh had split it wide open – although she hadn’t known why at the time. That was a blessing, because she would have been paralysed with fear and incapable of climbing out of the window if she had known she was listening to the voice of the cold-blooded killer who had murdered her mother. It wasn’t until later, when she’d been taken to Carol’s flat and the policewoman had said that her name was Annabel, that the wall had completely crumbled and she’d remembered everything.
The office door opened and Suzie squeezed Holly’s hand when Vicky, the plump, kindly liaison officer who had been assigned to Holly’s case, walked in.
‘Sorry I took so long,’ she apologized. ‘Jenny will be with us in a sec; she’s just getting coffees.’
No sooner had the words left Vicky’s mouth than the door opened again, and Jenny, Holly’s temporary social worker, came in carrying four lidded disposable cups between her slim hands.
‘OK, let’s get started,’ Vicky said, sitting on one of the two chairs facing the couch while Jenny perched on the other. ‘We’ve already talked you through the process, Charlotte, but we need to make sure you’re ready to do this. We can postpone if you’re not. It’s totally up to you.’
‘Please don’t call me that,’ Holly murmured, unable to get used to the name, even though she knew it was the one her real mother had chosen for her. She also couldn’t get her head around the fact that she was actually seventeen and not fifteen, as she’d believed.
‘Do you need more time?’ Jenny asked, reaching for one of the cups. ‘Or do you have any questions you need us to answer before you make a decision? Any concerns?’
Holly shook her head, but her eyes were downcast and it was obvious to the three women in the room that she was uncertain about something.
Clearing her throat, Suzie said, ‘Can I ask . . . I know Holly’s been staying with me since her mum – Josie – was arrested, but will this mean she has to leave right away? Only I’m happy to let her stay as long as she wants to.’
‘That’s her decision.’ Vicky smiled.
‘Is that what you want?’ Jenny asked Holly.
Holly chewed her lip and gave a tiny shrug. She didn’t know what she wanted yet, and a tiny part of her still longed to go back to how it had been before.
‘Well, we can sort all that out later,’ Vicky said. ‘They’re waiting in the next room, so when you’re ready, let us know.’
Holly took a deep breath, then nodded.
‘Are you sure?’ Suzie asked quietly. ‘This is huge, so you don’t need to rush.’
‘I’m ready,’ Holly said.
Vicky got up and left the room, and Jenny sat forward and peered at Holly across the table.
‘Try not to worry if you don’t feel an instant connection,’ she said. ‘These things take time.’
‘I know,’ Holly said, chewing nervously on her thumbnail.
The door opened and Vicky appeared.
‘Holly, this is Colin,’ she said, holding her hand out to indicate the man who was hovering beside her.
‘Hello, love,’ the man said, taking a hesitant step into the room. ‘It’s so good to see you again. I – I looked for you.’
Holly slowly
