‘I think we should tell Lucy first,’ I say. ‘We can decide together what to say to Jenna.’
I hear a movement in the hall and sit up straight. Is there someone lurking out there? I jump up from the sofa and rush out of the door.
‘What’s the matter?’ Mum calls after me.
A shadow flits through the dining room doorway and I run after the retreating figure. It’s Lucy. We reach the gravel drive and she rushes towards the parked cars.
‘Lucy, wait!’
She pauses and looks at me. Her face is flushed and her eyes glitter as though she has a fever. ‘I heard everything, Grace. Include you in the will? We trusted you and you tricked us. You’re after the money.’
‘It isn’t like that. Please, let me explain.’
I dig a letter out of my pocket and wave it. ‘You need to read this. It’s a letter our mother wrote, to Rosemary, the woman who raised me. Jenna and I were swapped in the hospital by mistake. Please, Lucy. Read it.’
‘I can’t deal with this now.’
Lucy opens a car door then slams it and starts the engine. It hits me then that she isn’t driving her own car. She’s driving Jenna’s. The car I thought Jenna had driven to Brighton today. Horror rises up in me like a scream. ‘Wait!’ I yell, running after Lucy and waving my arms frantically. I’m hugely relieved when she stops. ‘What?’ she asks, leaning her head out of the window.
‘Don’t take that car!’
‘It needs an MOT. I’ll speak to you later, after I’ve had a chance to think about things.’
‘No, Lucy, you don’t—’
But she ducks back into the car and drives away at speed, leaving me standing on the drive, thinking of the water I put in the brake fluid reservoir. I sink to my knees on the hard stones and bury my face in my hands.
Chapter 65
Early October | Jenna
When I reach Bletchley, I decide not to wait for the small Bedford train and take a taxi to Bow Brickhill instead. I need to get home. I can’t pinpoint why, but something about my conversation with Grace has left me uneasy about Mum. I run up the gravel drive and pause as I notice Lucy’s car. Panic clouds my thoughts. Why is Lucy here? Shouldn’t she be at work? Mum really must have taken a turn for the worst.
I let myself into the house and stand still for a moment, my senses alert and my skin prickling with tension. The house gives nothing away so I chuck my bag on the floor and hurry through the dining room and study to the lounge, praying that my fears are unfounded and I’ll find Mum resting on the sofa. I open the door and relief floods me as I see that she’s really there.
But what’s this? Grace has her head on Mum’s shoulder and… Is she crying? Grace sits up as soon as she sees me and rubs her cheeks with the back of her hand.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask. ‘What’s happened?’
‘We’re fine.’ Mum smiles and I notice her eyes are red too. She glances at Grace. ‘We’ve had a good day, haven’t we?’
Grace nods, still wiping her face so I can’t see her expression, but the atmosphere in the room feels all jangled-up to me. Something’s happened. Something’s changed.
‘Where’s Lucy?’ I ask. ‘Her car’s outside.’
‘She’s taken yours to the garage, hasn’t she?’ Mum asks.
The MOT. I’d forgotten about that. ‘Oh, yes. Stupid me.’
Grace is perched on the edge of the sofa now, rubbing her hands up and down her legs in agitation. She isn’t the calm and soothing Grace I know. ‘You seem upset,’ I say.
She looks up at me finally and I take a step backwards, reeling from the naked loathing in her face. What the hell? I can’t believe she’s just mad at me for going out for the day. There’s something else, but before I can ask her she hugs Mum and kisses her on the cheek. She’s clearly grown very attached to her lately, but it’s starting to feel weird.
Grace jumps to her feet and knocks into my shoulder as she leaves the room. I stare after her but Mum’s more important than Grace. I take Grace’s seat on the sofa and squeeze Mum’s arm gently. I want to kiss her cheek, but it’s as though Grace has tainted it and I don’t want to look like I’m copying her.
‘I shouldn’t have gone today, Mum. I’ve been worrying about you.’
‘You needed a break and Grace has looked after me well.’
‘What’s the matter with her?’
Mum pats my leg. ‘Go and fetch me a glass of water, then we can have a chat.’
Fetching water means going to the kitchen where Grace may be. I enter warily to see her gathering up her belongings. She’s crying openly now and I feel sympathy for her, even though her hostility frightens me a little.
‘Why are you so upset?’ I ask. ‘If it’s because of anything I’ve done, I’m―’
I break off as she lunges at me, pushing me back against the kitchen cupboards. A door handle presses painfully into my shoulder as she holds a hand around my throat. Where did all this anger come from? My heart thumps with fear.
‘You bitch.’ Her eyes are narrowed but boring right into mine and a fleck of spittle flies from her mouth to my cheek. ‘You’ve ruined my life and taken everything. I hate you.’
She lets go of my throat and I slump as my knees weaken. A hundred questions rise inside my head. I’ve no idea what’s going on, but I’m too shocked to do or say anything. She picks up her bag and slams the back door on her way out.
‘What the fuck?’ I say out loud. I stagger to my feet and run on unsteady legs back to Mum.
‘Grace just had
