‘You’ve spoken to Sun Meadows? Why?’
‘Just part of our investigation. Your mother’s cause of death isn’t clear, so we just wanted to check up on a few things. We understand that your sister hadn’t visited in a very long time until she went the night before your mother died. Why was that? Didn’t she have a good relationship with your mother?’
‘Rose?’ I laugh. ‘She didn’t have a relationship with Mum at all.’
‘She never spoke with her?’
‘Well, no-one spoke with Mum. After her overdose, Mum couldn’t say two words. She improved a little over the last year. She was starting to talk in short sentences.’ I think of what she said to me about my baby. Don’t give Rose the baby. ‘Recently she told me not to give Rose my baby.’
If only I’d listened.
Detective Brookes writes some more in her notebook. Then she frowns thoughtfully. ‘That’s a pretty bold statement. Why do you think she would say that?’
I look at her. ‘I don’t understand. Why are you asking me about Rose and my mother? Aren’t you here to charge me with kidnapping?’
She smiles. ‘Not at this point.’ She taps my bracelet with her pen. ‘Let me guess, your sister has a matching bracelet?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘But with a rose on it.’
‘Because her name is Rose.’
I nod. She rises to her feet. ‘You’ve been very helpful. That’s all I need for now.’
‘Wait!’ My voice is hoarse. The detective raises her eyebrows. ‘Will I get my baby back?’
More than anything, I wish I had the ability to read other people’s facial expressions. Because when Detective Brookes narrows her eyes and says, ‘Leave it with me,’ I have absolutely no idea what it means.
An hour passes. Then two. I’m in hour three when I recognise the person loitering in the doorway.
‘Owen?’
‘Hey, Fernie.’
I blink. It’s him. It’s really him. ‘What are you doing here?’
He shrugs. His hands are tucked into his pockets and he seems as close to shy as I’ve ever seen him. ‘Can’t a guy visit his sister-in-law in the nuthouse?’
He’s had a haircut. Which isn’t unexpected, I suppose, since he’s been away a year. It suits him like this. He appears to have lost weight and gained muscle. Owen had always been well built, but these last few years he’d become a bit softer-looking.
London must be treating him well.
‘How did you know I was here?’ I ask.
‘Rose called me. She does that when she gets herself into trouble.’
‘And you came all the way from London?’
He looks confused. ‘London? No, I came from Brunswick.’
‘Oh,’ I say. ‘When did you get back from London?’
‘I haven’t been in London, Fern.’
‘Of course you have. You’ve been living there for the past year.’
Now he gives me a meaningful look. ‘I was going to ask what you’re doing in here, but clearly you are mad.’ He chuckles. ‘Why’d you think I was in London?’
‘You haven’t been living in London?’
‘No. Why would . . . wait. Did Rose tell you this?’
‘Yes. She said you have been working on a project over there. She went over to visit you last year.’
He laughs, but it is one of those nervous laughs. ‘Fern, for the last year I’ve been living on the other side of town. A few months back, I actually came and visited you a couple of times at the library. I didn’t want to go to your flat as I thought that might get you in trouble with Rose. When you didn’t get back to me, I assumed Rose had turned you against me and I gave up.’
‘I remember a mystery visitor coming to the library. That was you?’
He nods. It’s too strange. Owen glances over his shoulder as if afraid Rose is going to burst in. I also feel afraid of that.
‘What did Rose say when she called you?’
‘She said you’d had a baby,’ he says, perching on the side of the bed. ‘And that it was your sincerest wish that she and I raise it together. My instinct was to stay away from her madness, but as it involved you, I had to come and see what was going on.’
‘But why would Rose say you were in London?’
He sighs. ‘Why does Rose do anything? Because of how it reflects on her.’
‘What do you mean?’
He exhales and runs a hand through his new stylish hair. ‘I left her. Things hadn’t been good between us for years, Fern. She was so changeable – happy one minute, enraged the next. I couldn’t live like that. I suggested counselling, but she wasn’t interested. It was all my fault. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore.’
‘So you moved to Brunswick?’
He nods. ‘I can’t believe she told you I moved to London. But, then again, I can. She always has to own the narrative. She could never admit that someone left her.’
I take a minute to digest this. ‘What do you think is wrong with her, Owen?’
‘I’ve spent a lot of this year in therapy trying to work that out. And I have to say, she possesses all the classic traits of a narcissist. Possibly even borderline personality disorder.’
‘What kind of traits?’
‘Her mind games. One minute she was sweet and kind, the next she was ridiculing me in front of our friends. If I became upset with her, she said I was too sensitive, it was all just a joke. If I gave an opinion that differed to hers, she didn’t speak to me for days. And her sense of grandiosity! She spent so much money. More than we had. She was forever quitting her job – or getting fired, I honestly don’t know which – but it never curbed her spending. I don’t think she’s held a job for longer than a year the whole time I’ve known her. At first, I thought she had bad luck, but then it just kept happening. I stopped asking her about it, because she would get furious if I brought it up.’
I think of the
