Sadie
For a long, breath-holding moment, no one says a word. Nina stares down at Everett, and Everett gazes back at her with mounting horror.
“It’s not true, Dad,” Zach says. “Is it?”
Everett is saved from having to reply. The front door crashes open in the hall, and a woman’s voice shouts, “Police!” Beth leaps to her feet, and Sadie moves to stand next to her.
Two uniformed officers burst into the drawing room, firing questions at the guests, and more than one trembling hand rises to point directly at Nina. The officers converge on her, and they take her to one side to talk.
“I don’t understand,” Sadie murmurs to Beth after a few minutes have passed. “How did you live with this family for so long? The mother poisoning the daughter, the daughter setting the house on fire. It all sounds . . .”
“It wasn’t like that.” Beth pulls a face. “I mean, okay, those bits weren’t good, but apart from that—most of the time—it was a pretty wonderful place to live . . .”
Sadie remains unconvinced. “But you said they made you pretend to be Nina—why?”
Beth answers slowly. “It was to do with the house. Leonora didn’t want to lose the house.”
“Well, that turned out well.” Sadie mulls it over, frowning. “Do you think they dreamed this up together, then, Nina and Leonora?”
For a long moment, Beth doesn’t reply. They both watch as Nina repeatedly shakes her head in response to the police officers’ questions, and Sadie thinks perhaps Beth doesn’t think it’s fair to speculate.
But eventually, Beth sighs. “I just can’t imagine Leonora agreeing to anything that would damage this house.”
Sadie catches hold of Beth’s hand. “We’re going to be okay, Mum, aren’t we?” She searches Beth’s gaze, feeling like a child again, desperate for her mother’s reassurance. “Aren’t we?”
“Oh, Sadie.” Beth draws her into her arms, and she holds her tight. “Of course we are. We’ve got each other, haven’t we? We’re definitely going to be okay.”
Beth
Ihold Sadie close to me as I watch the police officers caution Nina and arrest her.
My poor, damaged friend, Nina.
Nina isn’t Markus’s daughter. She’s the local doctor’s daughter. I can hardly believe it. And yet . . . I glance from Nina’s slim frame to Zach’s, then from Zach’s fine dark hair to Nina’s. Although her half brother must be a good few years younger than she is, the genetic link between them seems suddenly, glaringly clear.
Finally, after thirty years, the bizarre rules of Nina’s childhood begin to make sense. Leonora kept Nina hidden, not just from the village doctor himself, but from anyone local who knew him, who might have put two and two together. Nina looked nothing like Markus, and all it would take would be one nosy neighbor to remark on her similarity to Dr. Everett or his son, and the secret might escape . . . And what if that secret found its way to Hendrik?
There was no love lost between Leonora and Hendrik. I’d seen that right from Hendrik’s first visit. Would Hendrik have allowed Markus to continue living at Raven Hall with Leonora and Nina for as long as he did if he’d known the truth? Would he have been happy with the idea of Nina eventually inheriting the house? I think not.
It’s entirely inappropriate, but I feel a sudden urge to laugh. Anyone else in Leonora’s position, wanting to hide the paternity of their baby, would have had an easy option: they’d have moved away from where the father lived. But Leonora’s obsession with Raven Hall made that solution impossible.
Then my anger returns. It was one thing for Leonora to hide Nina away from her biological father and the other locals, quite another for her to scour children’s homes for a more convincing granddaughter for Hendrik. Whatever terrible things Nina has done here tonight, the ultimate blame lies with Leonora; of that, I’m certain.
Perhaps Nina catches a flash of sympathy in my eyes, because she calls out to me suddenly.
“My mother always loved this house more than she loved me; you know that, don’t you?” She suddenly looks desperately sorry for herself. “I’m not obsessed with Raven Hall like them. All I wanted was a tiny bit of justice.”
I say nothing in reply. My mind is still reeling. She tried to kill my daughter this evening. But she used to be my best friend—how will I ever come to terms with this?
As the officers lead Nina toward the door, she looks over her shoulder and locks her gaze on mine.
“I just hope the fire did enough damage,” she says bitterly. “I hope they have to tear this whole place down.”
And then she’s gone, led out to an ambulance that spills blue light over the gravel driveway. I’m glad, of course, that she’s been taken into custody. But I can’t help agreeing with her final words. I, too, hope they tear this whole place down.
Sadie
Sadie watches her mother.
Beth has been sitting by the drawing room window ever since the police led Nina out to the ambulance, and she’s barely taken her gaze off the ambulance doors. She says she just wants to know where Nina will be taken—to the hospital, or to a police cell. But Sadie knows she’s struggling to process the fact that the woman she was once so close to tried to kill several people tonight.
Including Sadie.
If Mum was emotionally reticent before, what will she be like after this?
The police have been through the drawing room, collecting samples and asking more questions. The guests aren’t allowed to leave yet, but a few minutes ago, a pair of officers offered to escort them up the damaged staircase to their bedrooms so they could change out of their nightclothes and pack their bags.
“Do you want to come with me?” Sadie asked Beth.
Beth shook her head. “Not ’til I know what they’re doing with Nina.”
Sadie turned back to the officers. “I’ll wait here a bit longer, if that’s okay. I don’t want to leave my mum alone.”
Outside, the darkness is finally giving way to sunrise. Beyond the band of reeds, the surface of Avermere glints with reflected oranges and pinks and golds. Beth leans closer to the glass and breathes out an “Oh.”
Sadie goes to join her, and she peers beyond the emergency vehicles to a civilian car, and a man standing next to it.
“Who’s that?” Sadie says. “Is it Joe?”
A moment later, he turns, and she sees that the man is Joe. He walks around to the passenger side and helps a second person climb out of the car—an elderly man, white-haired and slow-moving. The old man doesn’t straighten fully once he’s out on the gravel. He leans on a stick as he walks, his tall frame stooped, his gait uncertain.