“Leonora,” I say. “She told me everything.”
Caroline’s shoulders sag. Sadie and I are barely across the threshold, the door still wide open behind us. I shift uncomfortably, waiting for her to say something, although I don’t know what I’m hoping for—what could she possibly say that would make me feel better? I almost wish I hadn’t come, but Sadie takes my hand, and her touch reminds me of my new resolutions. To face the past. To be more open about my feelings.
“I was an idiot,” Caroline says eventually, quietly. She looks directly at me. “I thought sending you off to Raven Hall would solve all our problems—mine, yours, and theirs. I never thought anyone would guess . . .”
I stare at her. “But what about—before that? When Mum and Dad died, the accident. Didn’t you think, then . . . ?”
She shakes her head. “It was too late, by then, to tell you. How could I? And anyway, my work . . .”
Sadie makes a scathing noise, but I squeeze her hand to hush her. I want to hear everything Caroline has to say before we leave. Because I know we’re going to leave, and soon.
“Look, I’m sorry, Beth,” Caroline says. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. Your parents loved you. They’re the ones who wanted you. I tried, honestly, but I never could . . .” She drops her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
The silence stretches. Eventually, I look at my watch.
“Well, we’ll leave you to it,” I say.
Sadie gives Caroline a strange, penetrating look. “I feel sorry for you, Caroline.”
We leave then, Sadie and I. We walk back out of the apartment, hand in hand. I’m glad I faced Caroline, my mother. But I’m even more glad to be going home with my daughter now.
Sadie
July 2019
Sadie turned down Hendrik’s offer of Raven Hall.
There were too many arguments against it. Not least, the horror on her mother’s face when Hendrik first suggested the idea. But also, the awkwardness of accepting such an immense gift from a ninety-year-old great-grandfather she’d only just met; and the responsibilities and lifestyle changes that taking on a house like Raven Hall would entail . . .
“I still think you should have grabbed it with both hands,” Wendy says. Sadie has met her former agent for coffee, and they’re weaving between tables in a café overlooking the high street, heading for their favorite seats. “God, Sadie, you could have sold it straight on if you didn’t want it, kept the money. You’d be a millionaire by now.”
Sadie laughs. “It’s not like that, though. Hendrik would buy me a different house if I asked him—he even says he’ll find me a job in his company if I want it. But weirdly, it makes me realize—”
Wendy pulls a face as she sits down. “Oh, please. Don’t start with the Love is more powerful than money stuff.”
“No, honestly, it’s just a weird situation to be in. I want to take my time, that’s all. I actually quite like my life as it is . . .”
“How can you say that? You’ve already changed loads.”
“Yeah, but that was nothing to do with Hendrik,” Sadie says. “That was me.”
After their ordeal at Raven Hall, Beth finally opened up to Sadie about her past. As well as telling Sadie about her time at Raven Hall, Beth described the months she spent sleeping on the streets afterward, and the homeless charity that helped her—the same charity that she in turn has tried to support ever since. When Sadie spotted the charity’s name on a job advert in the local newspaper a few weeks later, she drew a circle around it and rang the number straightaway.
“So, when do you start?” Wendy asks her.
“In three weeks.” Sadie can’t disguise her excitement. “They’ll be training me at first, of course, and I know it’ll be hard, but—I really can’t wait. To actually feel like I’m making a difference to people . . .”
Wendy sighs. “So no more mermaid auditions?”
“Nope,” Sadie says with a grin. “Not for the time being, anyway.”
“Oh well.” Wendy sips her coffee, then tips in a packet of sugar. “At least your mum sounds happier now. How’s her new man working out?”
“Pretty well, actually.” Sadie smiles. “I mean, he’s not that new, but . . . yeah, I think he’s good for her. I really like him.”
“Oh, it’s no good.” Wendy gets to her feet. “I’ve got to have some of that carrot cake. It’s calling me.”
Sadie watches Wendy weave between tables to reach the counter, and then she drops her gaze to the charm bracelet on her wrist. After years of hardly ever wearing it, she decided to put it on this morning. She twists it slowly, admiring the charms and enjoying the sense of connection it gives her to her grandfather Markus.
Wendy returns with her cake. “So, fill me in, then. Is there a date for the trial? Have you seen any of the other guests? What’s the latest?”
Sadie sighs. She’s not supposed to talk about the case, but that doesn’t stop everyone asking her for details. There’s been plenty of information in the press, though, so she sticks to this and pretends it’s all she knows.
“They’re still collating evidence,” she says. “There’s no date yet.”
“And Nina Averell’s still locked up?”
“Yep.”
Wendy’s eyes are enormous. “I can’t believe your mum was friends with a murderer.”
“It was only attempted murder,” Sadie says weakly.
“I know, but—Nina was so devious, wasn’t she? Hiring those people to refurbish the house, and they all believed her when she said she was the owner . . . And knocking back the poisoned gin herself, to try to make the rest of you drink it . . .”
“It was whiskey, actually. And the active compound had broken down, so it didn’t have much effect anyway.”
“Still.” Wendy’s eyes shine with admiration. “You’re lucky to be alive. I was saying that to—actually, do you know what? You could step straight into that mermaid commercial now, if you still wanted it. I’d just need to make one call . . .”
Sadie laughs. “No, thanks—and listen. Don’t go around talking about this too much, will you?”
“Gosh no, don’t worry.” Wendy nods seriously. “My lips are sealed.”
They sip their coffees. Sadie closes her eyes for a moment, relishing the buzz of happy chatter all around them in the café. In fact, there have been two major developments in Nina’s case—neither of which Sadie can share with Wendy.