Читать книгу Sister Sister: A gripping psychological thriller - Sue Fortin, Sue Fortin - Страница 9

I didn’t sleep well last night. I had woken up what seemed like every couple of hours, tossing and turning, images of Alice flashing through my mind mixed with images of my father which turned into snakes and spiders. Neither creatures I particularly like. At one point Luke had rolled over in a semi-conscious state and stroked my head, mumbling reassuring words and telling me to try to go back to sleep. I appreciated the gesture despite its ineffectiveness.

I’m already showered, dressed and giving Chloe her breakfast before anyone else surfaces.

‘How are you feeling?’ says Luke, coming over and dropping a kiss on my head. ‘You were pretty restless in the night.’

‘Not great,’ I admit. ‘Don’t say anything to Mum, though.’

‘Don’t tell Nanny what?’ asks Hannah through a mouthful of toast and jam.

‘Don’t speak with food in your mouth,’ says Luke. ‘And some things aren’t meant for little ears.’ He gives a playful tug on Hannah’s ear lobe. She smiles through jam-coated teeth.

‘That’s lovely, darling,’ I say and pull a face in her direction. She laughs and I am pleased the question has been forgotten. ‘How did your recorder practice go yesterday?’ I ask, just to make doubly sure we are back on safe ground.

‘It was okay. We’re learning a new song.’

‘What’s it called?’ I wipe Chloe’s mouth with the napkin. ‘There we go, darling. All gone. Well done.’

Hannah’s answer is lost as my attention is snatched away at the sight of my mother coming into the kitchen. The first thing I notice are her eyes. They have been dull and sad and if you looked close enough, you could see pain etched in the back of them, reflecting the pain in her heart and the scars in her memory.

Today, however, there is no dullness, her eyes sparkle like I have never seen them do so before. In fact, I think this is the first time I truly appreciate the phrase. They practically illuminate the room, exuding warmth and happiness.

‘Good morning, my darlings,’ she says, sitting down at the table. In her hand she holds a piece of paper. ‘It’s my letter to Alice. Would you like to read it?’ The question is just a formality, there being no doubt in her mind that I do want to read it. She passes it over before she even finishes her sentence. ‘It’s just rough. I’m going to write it out neater this morning. Had you thought about enclosing a small note yourself?’

‘I’ll write it today. It seems strange that I’m actually going to be writing to her after all the years of imagining it.’ Mum and I share a smile, one that is coated with excitement and happiness.

‘That’s great,’ says Mum. She nods at the letter. ‘Read it, then.’

My darling daughter Alice

Where do I begin? I can’t tell you how happy I am to receive your letter. Happy seems such inadequate word to describe how I feel. I’m truly elated. Thank you so very much for finding me, I’ve been waiting for you ever since that day you were taken to America. Just waiting. It’s like a dream come true.

We, that’s Clare and me, have tried to find you. Clare has searched all over social media. She even hired private investigators several times but we didn’t know about the change in surname. What happened between your father and me was such a long time ago, I hardly think about it – all I’ve ever thought is about you. It’s a long and complicated story and one probably best saved for another day, when we can talk to each other face to face. Oh, how I long to hold you, my darling beautiful daughter, to hug you, to see you, to hear your voice, to find out all about you. I have no greater wish in my life than to see you, please say you will come and visit. I will pay for your travel and you can stay here, in your home, your own bedroom. Or I could come to America and visit you there. Whatever you want to do, my dearest sweet daughter, just let me know.

There is so much to tell you and so much I want to know about you.

I love you.

Mum xxx

‘It’s a lovely letter, Mum. But, you know, Alice included her email, why don’t you email her? It will be quicker.’ I pass the letter back.

‘But having something that Alice has touched herself is so precious. I thought she might feel the same about having something real and tangible from me,’ says Mum. ‘Besides, I hardly use my email account. I’m not even sure I know what my password is any more.’

‘We could easily reset it,’ I say. Mum looks doubtfully at me. ‘Or, I suppose, we could just set up a new email account for you.’

‘You could Skype her, Nanny,’ pipes up Hannah. I look over at my daughter, who has clearly been taking in much more of the conversation than I realise. Although, I don’t know why I’m surprised, she’s a bright thing. I smile at Hannah.

‘What?’ she says. ‘We use Skype to speak to Nanny Sheila and Granddad Michael.’

‘Is that where you can see each other on the screen?’ asks Mum.

‘That’s right, when we speak to Luke’s parents,’ I say. Mum pulls a face and I laugh. ‘You don’t fancy that, then?’

‘Oh no, I don’t think I’d like that. I’d have to make sure my hair was done and I looked half decent. I could stretch to an email,’ says Mum. ‘Can’t you do it from your account?’

‘I suppose so, although Alice might prefer to know she’s emailing you direct.’ I make a note of Alice’s email on my phone and take a last sip of my tea before checking my watch. ‘Look, I’ve got to get to work. We’ll talk about it later.’

Mum looks thoughtful and says, ‘I was hoping Alice would enclose a photograph of herself. I’d love to know what she looks like now.’

‘Maybe she wanted to test the water first.’ It had crossed my mind too, but I hadn’t wanted to say anything to Mum. ‘Why don’t you send her some photos of us when you write back?’

‘Yes, I was going to do that. Luke, would you be able to scan them for me?’

‘Of course, Marion. Just let me know which ones and I’ll do it, no problem,’ says Luke.

I kiss him and whisper a thank you in his ear. ‘Have a good day, you gorgeous girlies,’ I say, giving both Hannah and Chloe another kiss. Some days, leaving them is easier than others. I love my job as a solicitor, it’s something I have always wanted to do and something I have worked so hard to achieve. And for the most part, going into work isn’t a chore, it’s something I revel in. But there are other days when it is incredibly hard to leave my family. I know Hannah and Chloe will be looked after properly and they don’t miss out on anything. It’s no different to what it would be like if Luke was working in an office and I was at home. But, sometimes I have pangs of guilt about leaving them and moments of self-indulgence when I wish I was the one chivvying them along to brush their teeth or to put their shoes on. I don’t resent the roles Luke and I have carved out; it works for us as a family, but I do have secret desires every so often to be the one who works at home.

I did once suggest to Leonard that I worked from home two or three days a week but he made his feelings clear on that idea.

‘When you’re working, you need to be focused on your work and nothing else,’ he said. ‘At home it will be too easy to be distracted, no matter what your best intentions are. Not only that, but if something urgent comes up, I want you here, in the office, at the coal face.’

Even when I had protested that I could be at the end of the phone or email, he wouldn’t budge. In fact, he had been even more demonstrative, his years in the courtroom coming into play. He had questioned my ability to work with him and whether I would make a suitable partner after all. It wasn’t often I was on the receiving end of his sharp tongue, but I definitely came away licking my wounds that day.

I’m still brooding over leaving the girls when I arrive at work. I hurry down to my office, smiling and greeting the receptionist but not breaking my stride. I’m not in the mood for light chit-chat with anyone.

‘Hi, Sandy, all okay?’

‘Morning, Clare, Yes, everything’s fine.’

‘I’m going to be working on the McMillan case notes,’ I say. ‘I need a good couple of hours without any disturbances, so if you could just take messages and I’ll deal with everything this afternoon.’ I smile at her as I breeze through.

I close the door to my office behind me, knowing this is an unspoken sign to Tom and Leonard not to disturb me. I splay out the files to the McMillan case on my desk and study the papers in front of me.

It’s a tough case and Leonard has put me forward to deal with it, saying it would do me good to have some more experience with company law. McMillan is also a drinking pal of Leonard’s and I have a feeling Leonard put me forward to show off in the same way that parents show off their children by getting them to perform a song, a dance or count to ten in French. I’m performing for him so he can bask in the glory of having nurtured my career and so people can pat him on the back and say how well he’s done.

Internally, I had baulked at the prospect of representing one of Leonard’s acquaintances, especially in company law, which is Tom’s forte more than it is mine. Externally, I knew better than to let the enormity of the task show on my face.

McMillan is a well-known local businessman who has political ambition, so any blemish on his character he wants removed by litigation laser treatment. In other words, I’m to make sure not only does he win the case of unlawful dismissal brought about by a former barman at the club he owns, but I’m also to ensure he comes out of it with not a speck of dust or dirt on or around him.

‘Don’t even think about saying no,’ Leonard had said as he had passed over the files. ‘You’re perfectly capable of dealing with this. The right outcome will do the firm the power of good.’

‘No pressure, then?’ I had joked with half-hearted enthusiasm.

Leonard had looked me dead in the eye. ‘There’s every pressure, Clare. Every pressure, so make sure you win.’ He had paused in the doorway and turned to me. ‘Unless, of course, you don’t think you’re up to it.’

I hadn’t faltered. ‘Of course I’m up to it,’ I had said. I could read the sub-text. If I wasn’t up to the case, then I wasn’t up to the job and, therefore, by default I wasn’t up to being a partner in the firm.

I work steadily on the case for the next two hours when, despite my instructions that I wasn’t to be disturbed, there’s a knock on the door and Leonard appears in the doorway.

‘Just wanted to make sure you’re still alive,’ he says coming in and closing the door behind him. ‘Sandy said you’re working on the McMillan case. How’s it going?’ He nods towards the papers and law books spread out in front of me.

I sit back in my chair, dropping my pencil onto the desk. ‘Not too bad. Difficult, as we expected. It doesn’t help that the other party have come up with a witness now.’

‘Well, then, we need to come up with a witness too.’

‘There isn’t one. McMillan isn’t the most popular of bosses, as it turns out.’

‘Find one.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ I say, aware that there is little conviction in my voice, and instantly regret letting that show. It’s not the sort of trait that makes one a convincing lawyer in court.

Leonard hasn’t missed it either. ‘Don’t give me any banal platitudes,’ he says. ‘Find a witness. I don’t need to spell it out to you, do I?

‘Of course not.’ I rearrange the papers on my desk to avoid eye contact with him. It’s no wonder he is one of the best lawyers in town, known for his ruthless streak in the courtroom. It can be intimidating just being in the same office as him and that’s when he’s on your side.

‘McMillan is ambitious, not to mention influential,’ says Leonard. ‘It will do well to keep him sweet. You do know what I’m saying?’

‘Yes. Yes, I do.’ Of course I do. McMillan puts a lot of business the firm’s way. He has negotiated a company law deal for Leonard, which has bolstered Leonard’s pension fund, and which was agreed over several glasses of malt at the private club of which they are both members.

‘Good. I know you have a lot going on. I spoke to your mother earlier and she brought me up to speed with the news about Alice. But leave all that at home. Compartmentalise your life. It’s the best way.’

‘I know. That’s what I’m trying to do.’ It irks me slightly that Mum has already spoken to Leonard about Alice. I know she and Leonard are old friends and he is fully aware of the situation, but it makes it all the more difficult to keep my personal life out of the work place when those two things cross over.

‘So, winning the McMillan case – you know it will be a feather in not only the firm’s cap, but in yours too.’ Leonard turns to leave. ‘You’re my protégé, Clare, don’t fuck up.’