That’s the story of him, I suppose. He’s a windbag who is all bluster and, when it really comes down to it, he’ll make the wrong choice every time.
Daniel: It’s the biggest load of rubbish I’ve ever heard. She should be writing books with an imagination like that.
Here’s a question you should be asking. She’s created an entire fantasy and conspiracy that’s backed by no one but her – but, even within her own rantings, she’s admitted she’s a thief. If she stole something from her parents, then what was it?
Emma: Doesn’t that make it more likely I’m telling the truth? If it was a lie, I could have easily come up with something that didn’t involve me taking the licence and key from my parents’ room. I told you those things because that’s what happened.
Daniel: If this happened like she says, then how did I get into the cottage? I bet she can’t answer that.
Emma: I… I don’t know how he got in. Maybe I left the sliding doors unlocked, or perhaps the cleaner did.
I don’t know.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Day Six
THE DYED HAIR AND PERMATAN
Emma: I didn’t go to dinner on that fifth night. I didn’t want to be a part of Mum’s sit-down-and-pretend-everything-is-fine party. She knocked on my door, but I told her I was having stomach cramps. I don’t think she was convinced, especially after the talk we’d had a bit earlier, but she told me she hoped I would feel better soon – and then she left.
It was the first group meal I missed, though I doubt anyone particularly noticed. Claire had been long gone by that point, plus Dad was at the hospital. The holiday was winding down and I wanted to go home.
Julius: Everyone noticed that Emma wasn’t there. Those dinners were Mum’s big thing on the trip. It was likely to be her last major holiday, so it wasn’t much to ask that everyone could sit together in the evenings. It was maybe an hour out of every day, but Emma couldn’t even do that.
It’s unforgiveable, really – but then you could say that about so much of how my sister behaved on that holiday.
Emma: I know people will ask why I took the key, the licence and the letter. It’s a question I sometimes wonder, though I’m not sure I have a good answer. Maybe it was a sense of loyalty to Scott and his dad? Maybe I wanted to cause trouble? Maybe it’s somewhere in between?
Julius: Emma is chaos. This whole thing – the reason she’s talked to you and the reason I’m talking now – is an example of it.
If the licence, the key and the letter existed, then why did Emma cause so much trouble by poking her nose into business that wasn’t hers? Why didn’t she just leave them?
If she’s making everything up – which she is, by the way – then she’s conned all of you into making a film about her.
You can believe whichever of those two things that you want, but the conclusion is still the same: Emma is chaos.
Emma: I double-checked all the locks and windows before settling down to sleep that night. I also dragged my suitcase into the kitchen and laid it in front of the sliding doors, figuring that someone would trip over it if they were trying to break in.
I didn’t sleep much that night. It was half an hour here and twenty minutes there. I tried watching a bit of telly, but all the channels seemed to be full of those adverts that pretend to be actual shows. It doesn’t matter where you are in the world, there’s always someone with dyed hair and a permatan trying to sell kitchen utensils at three in the morning.
Either way, it didn’t feel right sleeping in that room, knowing that Daniel had invaded it. He has a way of poisoning everything he’s around. I bet Liz was a relatively normal woman until she ended up with him. I’d barely seen Victor since Claire left him – but you have to wonder what sort of chance he had in life when he had a father like that. Then there’s Claire herself. Good for her that she eventually saw through everything.
I was dozing on the sofa when there was a knock on the door. I was groggy and there was a newsreader on the TV screen, when last I’d seen it was the shopping guy with his knife set.
I must have been slow moving because there was a second knock on the door before I could get there. I was bare-footed and in the hotel dressing gown and almost opened the door before I realised I was on autopilot. It was only a few minutes after six in the morning and I wasn’t expecting anyone.
When I called to ask who was there, Mum said: ‘It’s me.’ I wondered if we’d ever be able to have another proper conversation – but she sounded chirpier than when we last spoke. I opened the door and the sunshine left me groaning as it surged inside. I was a vampire, cowering from the light, though Mum didn’t seem to notice.
She was already dressed for the day with a bag over her shoulder. I had to double-check the time, because she started speaking as if this was something we’d planned. She said she’d had a call from the hospital and that Dad was now off the strongest painkillers. I think her exact words were: ‘He’s woken up properly now.’
What that really meant was that he was restless and probably annoying the staff. He’s never been the sort of man for lie-ins, or going to bed early. He would say he worked hard and played hard – which was, admittedly, an embarrassing thing for a man of his age to be claiming. In his case, there was a truth to it. He hated things out of his control – and I suppose sleep was one of those things. He’d stay up ’til midnight or later and then still be up at six to go to work. It was almost a point of pride for him. Whenever there was some report about people needing eight hours’ sleep, he’d scoff and say that he’d been living off a maximum of five for decades.
I think he saw sleep as weakness… like a lot of things, I guess.
Anyway, as I stood in the doorway in the dressing gown, Mum asked if I’d go to the hospital with her. I said I would, and probably would have said ‘yes’ anyway, but I definitely felt I owed her one after skipping dinner the night before. Those meals were the highlight of the trip for her.
She said she’d wait by the taxi rank at the front of the hotel and then I headed inside to get changed.
Julius: Mum’s not the sort of person who would want bad feeling to linger. Because Emma skipped dinner the night before, Mum would have wanted to involve her the next day. That’s probably why Mum took Emma to the hospital that morning.
Emma: I don’t think we talked in the taxi. If we did, then I don’t remember what about. Mum used to talk about Amy and Chloe when there was a break in conversations. She wasn’t great with a phone – but the one thing she knew how to do was access her photos. She had thousands on there of the twins that went back years. If we did anything, then it was likely go through those pictures.
The next thing I remember properly is being at the hospital. The morning was stifling and even the short walk from the taxi to the sliding doors left me feeling sticky. The air conditioning was like a loving hug after a long day at work – and I know Mum felt it, too. She caught my eye as we walked through reception and there was a beautiful moment where we were thinking the same thing.