For one awful moment, she’s convinced he’s been persuaded by Hendrik’s words after all; he’s changed his mind; she’s come this close, and now she’s going to have to leave again. But he hurries down to her, his eyes glowing with concern, his arms wide open.
“I couldn’t stay away,” she says. “I had to come—I couldn’t bear to be away for even one more night.”
He pulls her into his arms, the baby sandwiched between them. “I’m glad you came. I couldn’t bear to be away from the two of you either.” They stand like that, the three of them locked in an embrace, until the baby begins to wriggle.
Then, as he leads her up the steps and into the house, she dips her head and whispers into her daughter’s hair, “This is your home, Nina. This is where you belong. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure it’s yours forever.”
Beth
Istare at the silver-haired woman in the pale blue dressing gown. It’s almost thirty years since I last saw her, but her eyes glitter just as brightly now, in the freezing night air, as they did that long-ago summer’s day when I first arrived at Raven Hall.
“Leonora,” I say. “My God. I should have known.”
Her eyes widen, and she pulls her flimsy dressing gown closer around herself. “Beth? Is that really you?”
I pull Sadie tighter against me. What the hell did Leonora want with my daughter? I’d disappeared, changed my name, done everything I could to leave this place behind. I thought I’d be free of Raven Hall forever, so long as I never mentioned it again; I had no reason to suspect that Leonora might track me down—why would she? But it seems I’ve been so focused on burying the past, and on trying to ensure Sadie’s life turns out better than my own, that I’ve deprived Sadie of the very knowledge that might have kept her safe.
Leonora lured me here once and made me play her game. How could I have gone away and left Sadie so vulnerable?
My eyes are gritty with exhaustion. My knuckles are bleeding from hammering on windows and doors. My limbs are weak from the adrenaline that’s been pumping through my arteries for too long. But Leonora’s expression of faux innocence drives all this from my mind and replaces it with a cold, sharp-edged fury.
I give Sadie one last squeeze and let her go, moving around her on the gravel to advance on Leonora.
“What’s wrong with you?” As I move toward her, Leonora retreats up the stone steps. I pause, still on the gravel, and I curl my fists. “I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing this time, but I won’t let you get away with it again; I promise you. My daughter could have been killed in there.”
Leonora shakes her head with that same wounded expression. “Your daughter?” Her gaze slides to Sadie. “I had no idea she was your daughter.”
My laugh hurts my throat. “Really?”
“No—” Incredibly, Leonora manages to look tearful. “We were introduced as Miss Lamb and”—she gestures to herself—“Mrs. Shrew. If I’d known she was your daughter . . .”
I want to accuse her of lying, but the guilt that’s gnawed away at me for twenty-nine years dries the words in my throat. I’m not blameless here; I can’t forget that.
I lift my chin sharply. “Well, it’s a remarkable coincidence.” I indicate the open front door behind her, the ruined staircase beyond. “I suppose this fire was just an accident too?” I turn to Jonas. “Has someone rung the police? I don’t have a signal . . .”
Jonas pulls a face. “The landline’s not connected. And, Beth”—he glances around at the other shivering guests—“we’re all frozen. We need to get coats on, and then a couple of us can drive to the village for help.”
I realize he’s gesturing to the ancient mini, its driver’s door still hanging open. I shake my head.
“It overheated. I can’t get it to start again. I was lucky to get here at all—I’d have gone for help if I could.” I peer into the surrounding darkness, but I had a view of the driveway in my headlights as I pulled up, and I know there are no other cars here. “We’ll have to walk . . .” Turning back, I see Leonora has retreated to the top step. “Don’t let her back in the house!”
Leonora holds up her hands, and her tone is plaintive. “I was only going to get my coat.”
“I’ll get everyone’s coats,” another voice says, and for the first time, I look properly at the three other guests who came bursting out of Raven Hall behind Sadie. The wild-haired and anxious-looking woman hurrying past Leonora into the hall to fetch the coats is a few years older than Sadie. The skinny, dark-haired man standing next to Jonas is rubbing his arms and staring at Leonora. The elderly man has gone to sit on the steps to one side; he’s partially turned away from us, peering at his phone. I don’t recognize any of them.
The wild-haired woman returns with an armful of coats.
“Thanks, Nazleen,” Sadie says as she takes a coat at random from the woman. I help Sadie put it on.
“Someone will have to walk to the village, then,” I say, “if there’s no other way.” I look at Jonas. “Do you think you could . . . ?”
“Of course.” Jonas drops his voice as he comes closer. “But be careful while I’m gone.”
“I lived with Leonora for a year and a half,” I say curtly. “Don’t worry. I know what she’s capable of.”
The rest of the group stops murmuring, and I realize they all heard me.
I look into Sadie’s eyes, and I know exactly what she’s thinking. Tell me, Mum. Don’t hide the past any longer. Tell me. And I don’t know whether it’s the therapy I’ve been practicing at the retreat, or the shock of seeing Leonora again after all these years, or just the pleading expression in my daughter’s eyes, but I feel a sudden surge of strength, as if I were drawing courage directly from the earth beneath my feet.
“Certain things happened here when I was a child.” I look pointedly at Leonora. “Not just the fire. Other things too. Nina was poisoned here.”
There’s a collective intake of breath.
Nazleen glances at Leonora, then back to me. “Who’s Nina?”
“Nina was—” For a moment, I don’t think I can go on. But Sadie reaches out and catches my hand in hers, and it gives me courage. “Nina was Leonora’s daughter,” I say. “She was four months younger than me. My best friend. We were almost like sisters.” I squeeze Sadie’s hand tighter. “And Leonora made her sick, deliberately. I’m convinced of it. Not just once. Three times, at least.”