Читать книгу My Sister’s Lies - S.D. Robertson - Страница 10

Mark Cook knew his wife well enough to see she was already sold on the idea of having Mia come to stay.

When Diane had finally got round to explaining the reason for her visit, there had been a distinct change in Hannah’s attitude towards the situation. He’d sensed it immediately – and he even understood why. Her problem was with her sister, who under this proposal wasn’t going to be around. Hannah had been expecting a plea for cash, but instead she’d been offered the chance to bond with her long-lost niece.

Of course she was keen on the idea, even though Mia hadn’t exactly been friendly to her earlier. His wife had been devastated by what had gone on between her and her sister all those years ago. It had nearly broken her beyond repair. It surely would have, had she known the whole truth. And losing access to her niece – who she’d doted on, like a surrogate child of her own – had been especially hard.

The toddler Hannah had loved to spoil rotten was long gone, replaced by a fourteen-year-old stranger. But despite Mark’s major reservations about the request – based on a deep-seated distrust of Diane and his knowledge of her full potential to wreak havoc – he had little confidence in his ability to convince his wife. Despite what he felt, he couldn’t risk sounding more negative about her sister than she was, nor could he be seen as the one to put his foot down and say no. It was too risky. Diane was too much of a wildcard, especially after all these years. It had been such a relief to have her out of their lives for so long. Now she was back, he had no idea what was going through her mind – and the more he thought about this, the more it terrified him.

Sure enough, as soon as her sister had left the room, Hannah’s eyes lit up. ‘Well, that was unexpected,’ she said in a low voice. ‘What do you think, love? I have to admit I’m pretty excited by the idea. It would be amazing to get the chance to reconnect with Mia.’

Mark smiled. ‘I had a feeling that’s what you were thinking. It is all a little bit odd, though. And what about this mysterious mess Diane’s got herself into? Any idea what it might be?’

‘I don’t know,’ Hannah whispered. ‘I’m not too interested in that, to be honest. I’m mainly relieved she’s not asking us for money or planning to stick around herself. The last thing I expected was that I’d want to agree to anything Diane asked of me. But I do really like the prospect of having Mia here for a bit. What’s the harm if it’s only for a few days? She’s changed so much from the little girl I remember. I’d love to get to know her again. What do you think?’

‘You seem quite set on the idea. Diane’s your sister, so I think it should be your decision.’

‘That’s nice of you,’ Hannah replied, squeezing his hand, kissing him on the cheek and gazing into his eyes. ‘But this is your home too; I won’t agree to anything you’re not happy about.’

A big part of Mark wanted to say no at this point. He had a bad feeling about the whole business, but as this wasn’t based on anything he could communicate to Hannah, he bit his tongue. ‘If it’s what you really want, then you have my blessing. But I’d sleep on it, rather than saying anything to Diane tonight while she’s still awake. That way you can be sure.’

‘Of course,’ she replied. ‘You know I love you, don’t you?’

‘I do. And I love you too, which is why I want you to be careful.’

‘I will.’

Hannah made the announcement at breakfast the next morning, when all four of them were again sitting around the dining table.

‘So, Mia,’ she said, after taking a long sip from her coffee. ‘Your mother asked us last night whether you might be able to stay here for a short holiday. Of course we’d be only too delighted to have you.’

‘Both of us, you mean?’ Mia asked, the frown on her forehead revealing she clearly didn’t know anything about this.

‘Um, no. Just you, love,’ a flustered Diane replied, clearing her throat several times. ‘I have a few things I need to sort out. I thought this might be a nice break for you.’

‘What kind of things? You said we were only going on a quick trip. I have plans with my friends.’

‘We’ll talk about this in private after breakfast,’ Diane said. ‘I was waiting to see if it was possible before mentioning it to you.’

Mia raised her voice. ‘But this is so not fair. I—’

‘Do you want your phone back this morning or not?’ Diane snapped. ‘I can take it with me if you like.’

‘No, Mum, please—’

‘Eat your breakfast then and drop it.’

Mark was as surprised to see this work as he was about Diane not telling Mia in advance about the request she’d made of him and Hannah. Mia barely said another word for the rest of the meal and looked on the verge of tears.

Hannah’s move to announce their decision this way, rather than speaking to Diane privately first, was – Mark assumed, even though they hadn’t discussed it – designed to unsettle her. He had to admit it was a decent way of emphasising the fact that Hannah was no pushover, despite agreeing to help. And yet seeing Diane baited in this way made him feel uncomfortable, as of course did Mia’s less than ecstatic reaction to the news.

Later, after the pair had had their private discussion, from which mum and daughter had both emerged red-eyed but reconciled, the teenager seemed to have accepted what was happening. She still didn’t look over the moon about it, but why would she? She was essentially being left with two strangers. At least he and Hannah both remembered spending time with her as a toddler; she was unlikely to recall that now.

Meanwhile, Diane hadn’t wasted any time in packing her things ready to leave. It was almost like she was keen to get out of there before they changed their minds. There was a stilted goodbye with Hannah, which focused on practicalities like the swapping of mobile numbers in the absence of affection. Then, in sharp contrast, Diane gave her daughter a tender, lingering hug with whispered final words and tears.

As for Mark, he’d been tasked with accompanying his sister-in-law down to her car to pick up some further things for Mia and to give her directions on how best to drive out of the city.

It started to feel awkward as soon as the metal doors slid shut and the two of them were standing next to each other in the lift. Staring at the red LED level indicator, Mark willed it to move faster or even to stop at another floor so someone else could get in and break the tension. Neither of these things happened and not a word passed between them.

It was Diane who’d suggested he should be the one to accompany her to the car, and this bothered him. She’d conveyed it as being down to his strength and a presumed familiarity with the best routes in and out of the city centre, which looked very different to the last time she’d been here. However, Mark suspected it was more to do with her wanting a word with him in private, which was precisely the reason why he wasn’t facilitating a conversation by making small talk.

There was only one subject he and Diane had ever needed to talk about in private – and just thinking about that made him very nervous, particularly after she’d been out of his and Hannah’s lives for so long now.

Thankfully, she gave no indication of wanting to say anything as they left the apartment block and stepped out into a pleasant summer’s morning: warm but with a fresh breeze. Mark was dressed in khaki shorts and a red polo shirt; Diane was in the same navy leggings as yesterday but with a fresh sky-blue T-shirt. Speaking only for functional purposes, such as to discuss which car park they were heading to and the quickest way to get there, they walked at a brisk pace. He had offered to carry her backpack for her, but she had politely declined, saying it weighed very little.

The multistorey NCP where Diane had parked was only a couple of streets away. When they got there, it was already chock-a-block with cars, presumably belonging to early-bird Saturday shoppers or, like Diane, people who’d spent the previous night staying nearby. Her car was a white Vauxhall Astra, a couple of years old and in decent nick. This didn’t give much away about her financial status, although, as she hadn’t asked them for money, that wasn’t particularly relevant now.

Diane opened the boot to reveal two suitcases: one black, one navy. She indicated that the black one was Mia’s, so Mark lifted it out. Feeling its considerable weight, he was relieved to note it had a set of wheels and a telescopic handle. He certainly wouldn’t have fancied carrying it back to the apartment.

‘Is this all Mia’s stuff?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘It’s heavy. Does she really need so much for a couple of days?’

‘Teenage girls have a lot of stuff. Trust me: she’ll be happier this way than not having enough.’

Trust her, Mark thought. That was something he would never do.

‘Right, well, I’d better get going anyway,’ Diane said, to Mark’s considerable relief. ‘What’s the best way to the M60?’

He gave her quick directions back to the motorway ring road around Manchester, from which she claimed to know the way. ‘It would be easiest with a satnav,’ he said. ‘Don’t you have one?’

‘I do, but it’s a bit temperamental and several years out of date,’ she replied. ‘I prefer not to rely …’

At this point, standing at the side of the car next to him, looking at a map he’d printed out from the computer to help her, Diane’s voice faded out.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, looking over and seeing she’d closed her eyes and that her hands were tightly gripping the roof of the car. It was hard to tell for sure in the artificial light, but he could swear she looked paler than before. ‘Is there anything I can—’

‘I’m fine,’ she replied through gritted teeth. ‘It’s just stomach cramps: time of the month. It’ll pass in a minute.’

‘Oh, right.’ Mark felt more awkward than ever now. He didn’t know whether to look at her or away from her, so instead he found himself staring at the map and hoping his face hadn’t turned bright red.

Sure enough, a few moments later Diane declared that she was ‘all right now’. She unlocked the driver’s door and sat down behind the wheel, accepting the map as Mark handed it to her. To his relief, she made no effort to kiss or hug him or shake his hand as they said their goodbyes, with her remaining seated and him stooped at her side, peering into the car through the open window.

‘Thank you for taking in Mia,’ his sister-in-law said. ‘She really means everything to me.’

Mark was surprised to hear her voice waver as the words came out. There were fresh tears in the corners of her eyes too.

‘No problem,’ he said, wondering for the umpteenth time what kind of trouble she’d got herself into. ‘Take care. We’ll keep her safe for you, so no need to worry. You concentrate on sorting out whatever it is you need to do and get yourself back here in one piece. See you in a few days.’

He stood back from the vehicle, wheeling Mia’s case with him. As Diane pulled the Astra out of the parking space, he thought he must have misjudged her reason for bringing him here. Perhaps she’d changed over the years she’d been away. But it would take much more than this to convince him – and he really struggled to picture a future in which the sisters got along again and were back in regular contact. However, there was a reason time was said to be a great healer. A couple of days ago he could hardly have imagined the possibility of her and Mia staying the night at their flat. Never mind Mia staying on alone for a short while.

Before driving off, Diane called him over. He assumed she wanted to check something to do with the directions he’d given her, but instead she reached out and handed him a white envelope with his name handwritten on the front.

‘What’s this?’ he asked.

‘I’m sorry,’ she replied, driving off without saying another word.

Mark was dumbstruck. He wanted to shout after her. He even considered chasing her on foot to the exit. But instead he stood there, open-mouthed, alone in the middle of the car park, one hand on Mia’s suitcase and the other holding the letter-sized envelope.

What the hell was this all about? What was Diane up to? Why bother to get him alone only to hand him this message, or whatever it was? Surely she could have slipped it to him at some point while they were in the apartment?

He was torn between ripping the envelope open immediately to find out what it contained, or waiting until later. The truth was that it scared him to think what he might find within.

He remained there, contemplating this, for several minutes until eventually a large SUV came along, wanting to drive by, forcing him to move out of the way. So he stuck the unopened envelope into the side pocket of his shorts and wheeled the hefty case to the nearest lift.

He made it halfway home before curiosity got the better of him. He stopped at a vacant bench, sat down and pulled the envelope out of his pocket.

He took it in both hands, one holding each side like he was watching a video on his mobile, and raised it to eye level. The quivering of his limbs made the flimsy paper jiggle backwards and forwards. He told himself this was down to the breeze, but his raised heartbeat and shallow breathing were dead giveaways of the real reason.

Mark scrutinised the four letters of his name, which were scrawled in a large, loose hand using blue biro. The writing style wasn’t dissimilar from Hannah’s; if there was any other information to be gained from examining it, Mark wasn’t the person to do so. He had absolutely no clue whether it had been written in haste, anger or whatever. As for what it contained: not much, by the feel of things; probably one or two sheets of paper.

The only way forward was to open it, of course. He knew that, but it took a few more minutes of staring at the envelope – building up to it – before he felt ready to do so.

His heart raced faster still as he finally ran a finger under the seal and pulled out the contents: a single sheet of plain A4 paper, folded three times and with writing on both sides.

Taking a deep breath and then slowly exhaling, he unfolded the letter and read what Diane had to say to him, penned in the same blue ink as the envelope.

Dear Mark,

If you’re reading this, that means I’ve chickened out of speaking to you in person. I apologise. In my defence, my head’s all over the place right now.

I’m writing this in the spare room of your lovely apartment. It’s after three in the morning. Mia is asleep in the bed next to me and, apart from the city noises that float in through the open window behind me, everything here is calm and still.

Everything except me, that is. I can’t sleep tonight. I wonder if you and Hannah can after what I’ve asked of you.

I really hope you’ll say yes. If you’re reading this, then you must have, so thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart.

I don’t deserve your help – but Mia does. She’s an innocent party in everything that’s happened to bring us to this moment and I honestly believe there’s no better or safer place for her to be right now than here with you. Please don’t blame her for my mistakes.

Now to get to the point. There’s no easy way to say this, which is why I’ve been waffling and, of course, why I’m writing this letter in the first place. I already know there’s a good chance I won’t dare to tell you in person tomorrow.

I know you suspected this previously. I know you came right out with it and asked me, yet I denied it to your face. Honestly, I thought I was doing the best thing by everyone in telling you that. But it was a lie – and now it’s time for the truth.

Your suspicions were right: Mia is your daughter.

I know. That must be a shock to read. You probably don’t even believe me. I can totally understand why you’d think it’s yet another lie.

But it’s not. I swear it on my own life, for what that’s worth.

I’m afraid I can’t bring myself to swear anything on Mia’s life. She’s too precious to me. Look at her, though, and then look in your heart. Spend some time with her, like you did before, and I think you’ll see that what I’m saying is true.

Why am I telling you this now? Well, for one thing, because it’s the right thing to do. Secrets and lies are no good. They eat you up inside.

There’s more to it than that, of course, but I think I’ve given you quite enough to digest for now.

For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry for everything I’ve put you through.

Diane

Mark read the letter three times in total, one immediately after the other. Even then he didn’t feel like he’d truly absorbed its contents.

It was worse than he’d expected. Much worse. He’d been pretty sure it would be something to do with that one night they’d spent together. That huge mistake he’d made around fifteen years ago and regretted ever since. But not this. Not Mia.

He’d feared maybe Diane was looking for money after all; that she’d been planning to blackmail him by threatening to tell Hannah unless he coughed up some cash.

That was the most likely scenario he’d been able to come up with after she’d handed him the envelope.

But not this.

How could he be Mia’s father?

He knew it was technically possible, but … if he actually was, how could Diane have kept that from him for so many years? Naturally he’d been suspicious once, because the dates were too close for comfort. He’d asked her outright on several occasions and, as her letter specified, she’d always been adamant that Mia wasn’t his child. Eventually, he’d believed her. It had been a relief, to be honest.

He’d never forgotten their night of passion – and not in a good way. It was still a regular source of nightmares, which usually ended with Hannah walking in and discovering them in bed together. But in recent years, with so much water under the bridge, he’d barely thought about the possibility they might have conceived a child together. Had Mia been around and in his life, it may well have been a different story. He could have seen things in her to make him wonder, as had happened when she was younger.

Having kids had never been on Mark’s agenda. He’d ruled it out long ago, thanks in no small part to a devastating experience he and his family had been through when he was still a child himself. It was something he avoided discussing or even thinking about to this day. He preferred to tell people he simply wasn’t a paternal kind of man, which was also true. It wound him up when parents fussed on social media over things like their child’s first day at school or the outfit they’d dressed up in to go trick-or-treating on Halloween.

So after more than a decade of not seeing Mia – a girl Mark had been assured was only his niece by marriage – she’d been pushed far from his thoughts.

Until now.

At this moment Mia was right at the heart of his thoughts. He had no idea what he was going to say to her when he returned to the flat. How could he look at her or Hannah without giving away what he’d just read? What if Diane had already told Mia or given her some kind of hint? And how was he supposed to know for sure she wasn’t making it up?

Mark’s mind leapt frantically from one thought to another. This was a potential disaster. No wonder Diane hadn’t wanted to tell him in person, although how he wished she had. There were a million questions he wanted to ask her. Not least, he needed to know if she’d told anyone else so far or planned to do so in the near future. Frank, his father-in-law, was a terrifying possibility. But even that paled into insignificance compared to the prospect of Hannah finding out.

He knew how heartbroken she would be to discover he and Diane had slept together. He’d already imagined that scene countless times. And for Hannah to find out now, all these years later, knowing they’d kept it from her and lied to her face. It would be truly awful.

But this was so much worse. The very idea of him fathering Mia – giving Hannah’s hated sister a child while denying his wife the same – that would devastate her.

He’d have to get Diane’s mobile number from Hannah’s phone, preferably without her realising, and contact her directly. More secrets and lies, in other words; digging himself deeper. But what choice did he have?

Mark read the letter through a fourth time. He was hoping to miraculously uncover some further answers or explanation: a little detail perhaps, which he might have missed on the previous occasions due to shock. But he found nothing of the sort.

Letting out a long, frustrated sigh, he folded the paper up, slid it back into the envelope, folded that in half and shoved it firmly into his pocket. Destroying it would probably be the wisest thing to do, but Mark knew he’d want to read it again. No, he’d have to hide it somewhere that Hannah, and Mia for that matter, wouldn’t find it. His work briefcase would probably be the safest option. As usual, it was full of business-related paperwork he’d brought home in the hope of finding a spare moment over the weekend to catch up on a few things. Hannah was extremely unlikely to look in there and, for extra peace of mind, he could also lock it with a small key. Then on Monday he could stash the letter somewhere in his desk at work.

So there was one tiny problem solved. If only that was all he had to worry about.

Mark held his head in his hands and fought to clear his thoughts.

He knew there was no point in feeling sorry for himself, or wishing none of this was happening, because it was. Fact of life.

His only option at this moment was to put on a brave face and pretend everything was all right. He had to do his utmost not to give the slightest indication to Hannah or Mia of there being a problem. Otherwise he was finished.

‘Come on!’ he said under his breath, slapping both cheeks with his hands to shock himself into action. Keeping a cool head in a crisis was the kind of thing he did at work all the time. He could manage this. It was the only way.

So Mark jumped to his feet.

Standing tall, willing his mind to follow his body’s example, he paced purposefully in the direction of home.