‘What’s she like? Your girlfriend?’ Courtney asked. ‘I saw her briefly at the pub, as you know. She seemed nice, natural.’
‘She is,’ Joe said, his heart twisting afresh. ‘She’s kind …’ He was going to say she was a good mother to Ollie, but stopped himself. That would be cruel, given Courtney’s circumstances. ‘Thoughtful. Genuine, you know?’
He hadn’t meant to make the point that Courtney wasn’t any of those things, but the fact was, she wasn’t. He hadn’t been looking for a relationship when he’d bumped into Sarah. When he had, though … she’d felt like a breath of fresh air. She had no hidden side to her, he knew that from when they’d gone out together way back. She hadn’t changed. She’d still been the same pretty, shy, caring woman he’d known then. He’d lain awake for hours last night, wondering how it had all gone so wrong, but he knew that too. It was his fault, not Sarah’s. He’d been so determined not to be on the receiving end of the kind of crap he’d been through with Courtney, he hadn’t stopped to remind himself that Sarah wasn’t her. She wasn’t the sort of person who would use him. He doubted very much she would have embarked on a physical relationship with him if she hadn’t had feelings for him. When she made love with him, it was completely. The way she touched him, the way she kissed him, the way she breathed out his name …
He loved her. In that moment, he realised that part of him always had, if that were possible with the mother of all fucked-up relationships in between. He needed to talk to her, to listen to her; stop judging her because of his own paranoia. This new development with Laura she’d mentioned, that wasn’t her being neurotic. He needed her to know he was on her side.
He’d call her from the car, he decided. Pray that she would accept his apology – again – and tell her he would do his best to look into Laura’s background. If she was going to question Steve about his girlfriend’s mysterious past, he would offer to go with her. She might not want him to, but he didn’t like the idea of her confronting her ex on her own.
‘I should go,’ he said, glancing back at Courtney. ‘You have my number if you—’ He stopped, apprehension knotting his stomach as he noticed that she appeared to be in pain, her face pale and her hands pressed hard to her pelvis. ‘Courtney, what’s wrong?’ He raced back to her as she doubled up. ‘What is it?’ Panic climbed his chest. ‘Tell me.’
‘Nothing,’ she gasped, and attempted to wave him away. ‘Go. I’m fine. I …’
Christ. ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you,’ he said, sweeping her up as her legs gave way beneath her.
Twenty-Five
Laura
As she came down the stairs, Laura wondered who it was ringing the doorbell so early in the morning. Opening the front door, she was tempted to close it again fast. But for Steve, who appeared from the lounge, she would have done.
‘I’ve come to apologise,’ Sherry said, her smile uncertain rather than insincere as it normally was. Laura eyed her mistrustfully. What was she up to? Something, she had to be.
‘I visited my mother’s grave this morning – it’s my thinking space, as you know,’ Sherry went on. ‘I’ve been doing some reflecting and I’ve realised I was being unfair to you, not considering your feelings.’
Considering her …? Laura almost laughed. The woman had never considered her feelings in her life.
‘I overreacted last time I was here,’ Sherry continued undaunted, her expression contrite. ‘I wondered if we could …’ She paused and glanced past Laura to the hall. ‘Do you think I could come in, darling, rather than discussing things on the doorstep?’
Laura had absolutely nothing she wanted to discuss with her. There was never any discussion between them, only ever Sherry insisting that the story she’d told the police about the night Jacob had disappeared was the truth; that Laura was wrong, that she was muddled. The woman was a liar. She was here because she was terrified of being found out.
Laura couldn’t allow her into her life. To do that would be to lose all that she had, Steve and dear little Ollie. Steve would never understand why she’d felt drawn to Ollie, who really was the living, breathing image of Jacob. She didn’t understand it herself, other than that in having Ollie around, she felt as if she had a little piece of Jacob back. Steve might forgive her that. He might believe that she truly cared about him too. He couldn’t possibly understand, though, why she had to keep her mother out of her life now that he and Ollie were part of it. It was too unbelievable. Her mother would twist anything she told him. Cite her sleepwalking and amnesia as reasons for her confusion. She would show him doctors’ reports, irrefutable proof that her poor muddled daughter wasn’t in possession of her faculties that night, nor would she ever be, given that her condition still existed.
Sherry wasn’t here to apologise. No one would ever believe Laura if she tried to tell them that the only reason her mother kept turning up where she wasn’t welcome was to destroy her relationship, just as she had before. She wanted to keep Laura close, keep a watchful eye on her; feed her another sedative, keep her quiet. Failing that, she would destroy her. If her mother even imagined that she’d remembered, she would stop at nothing to keep her from telling her secrets, even if that meant having her labelled mad and locked away where she would no longer be ‘a danger to children’. If Laura tried to explain all that, people would think she was mad. She couldn’t let her mother win, not this time. She had to keep Ollie safe. She had to find Jacob.
‘Morning, Mrs Caldwell,’ Steve said behind her, and Laura’s heart stalled. In using the surname that she had abandoned, he was no doubt hinting that he knew her history. But he only knew as much as her mother wanted him to. Earlier, realising he was on the phone, and guessing it was the landline since his mobile was on his bedside table, she’d picked up the phone in the bedroom, heard their conversation. Sherry had painted a distorted picture, hinting that Laura might have had something to do with what had happened to their dear lost little boy on that darkest of nights. She was challenging Laura to paint it differently. And then she would reiterate how much she cared for her, how she was scared for her and wanted to protect her. She was a liar, thinking herself safe in the knowledge that Laura had no way to prove it.
‘Morning, Steve.’ Sherry smiled warmly at him and stepped inside. ‘We spoke on the phone,’ she informed Laura, looking her over and for once refraining from commenting on her dress. ‘Such a lovely man. So understanding.’ She leaned towards her then, her voice lowered to a whisper. ‘You should forget the past and try to hold onto him, darling.’
Laura would have laughed at such a brazen threat had Steve not been watching her carefully, making Laura wonder whether his mind had been poisoned against her already.
‘It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?’ Sherry went on blithely. Laura could hardly believe she was discussing the weather.
‘It certainly is.’ Steve smiled, but the look in his eyes was wary now, as he glanced between them. He didn’t realise that Laura knew he’d been talking to her mother. That she understood why he was here this morning instead of at work. He was trying to facilitate a reconciliation between them, imagining that they would talk together, cry together, embrace and move forward. Poor, kind Steve, he’d been taken in by Sherry completely.