Cross Her Heart(78)

Finally I see it. Black ink on a blue card. My heart leaps to my mouth as I take it down.

Clyde! Call Bonnie! Let’s catch up! And underneath, a mobile number. My hands tremble. I’m so close. Katie is a phone call away. Ava is a phone call away. I scrabble in my pocket for some change for the phone. I need to call—

‘… is believed to be Marilyn Hussey, a co-worker of Charlotte Nevill’s … ’

Marilyn?

I look up at the TV.

‘ … the police have made no statement at this time but our source tells us Ms Hussey was taken in for questioning from her place of work and has been harbouring the missing child murderer Charlotte Nevill, although it appears no arrest has been made there.’

A humming starts up in my ears as my heart races. Oh God, Marilyn. My lifeline. And now in trouble because of me. Will she tell them where I am? Will she even have figured out where I’ve gone from my message? As I stare at the screen and feel the blue card softening in my hand as I squeeze it, a calm settles over me. I have only me to rely on now. I could still phone the police. Once I’ve spoken to Katie and got some idea of where she and Ava are, I could ring them and they’d come so fast thinking they were going to arrest me. But how can I be sure of where they are until I’ve seen my baby? What if the police go charging in looking for me and she’s not there? Katie will kill her. I know it. One betrayal too many.

My heart slows down to a regular steady beat and my skin cools. I can’t do anything to help Marilyn and I should never have involved her, but she’ll be okay. At worst, she’ll look like a fool, but I’m not sure how far they’ll want to go with prosecuting a woman just out of an abusive relationship. If this all goes wrong and they come for me, I’ll tell them I made her help me. They think I’m still the monster I used to be, they’ll believe it.

Maybe this is how it should be. Me and Katie. Finishing what we started, one way or another. I go outside and light a cigarette in the rain. A few moments of quiet before making the call. The smoke is harsh and it makes my head swim but it feels like coming home. Everything does. The anger and fear simmering inside me, the smoking, the being entirely alone with no one to believe in me.

It’s a perfect mood for Katie.





64


HER

The thing with your generation is you’re all so needy. Narcissistic. Instagram or it didn’t happen. But even with all that it took me a while to find you. You’d be surprised how many Avas of your age there are in Elleston. But I worked my way through them, all those little details of life casually given away, making it so easy to track someone down, and once I saw you with your mother, I knew I’d struck gold. It wasn’t the way she looked – I defy anyone to recognise a woman they knew as a child, we’re all masters of disguise – it was the way she was. Nervous. Hunted. Edgy. Alone.

The waiting was over. I bought the house, and brought passport number three to life. Let a new identity build, watched you both and slowly integrated. Placed myself in the perfect position for studying Charlotte. Easy as pie. Of course this was when I really needed Jon. Not him, obviously, but access to his life. I knew he wouldn’t have changed much – they’re all creatures of routine, aren’t they, and he didn’t have the spine for reinvention – and he was so pitifully glad to see me again. Not for long, obviously.

Once I’d got into your house it was so easy. I took fingerprints from glasses and stole strands of her hair from the bathroom and planted them at Jon’s so the police would think she’d been there. The same with the cottage I rented via his laptop and disposed of him in. I know he was your father, but don’t look at me like that. The man was both weak and a fool. You’d have been disappointed in him, trust me.

I set up a Facebook account for him, liked some of the same pages as you, and, when I was ready, started messaging you. Dear God, you were easy. So needy for love, little Ava. So determined to be a grown-up. You wanted romance. Passion. All that crap.

I wound your mother up too. Little surprises I knew would make her paranoid. Drive her to call her probation officer for reassurance while looking a little bit crazy. And then, when the time was right and the stage set, all it took was one shove of a toddler into the river and boom, a picture in the paper and an anonymous phone call saying I recognised her as Charlotte Nevill.

And here we are. Still waiting. She’ll call soon, I know she will. So, let’s get you into position, shall we? Ready for the show.





65


LISA

‘It’s me.’

For a moment there’s nothing at the other end. I’m gripping the receiver tight to my ear and I’ve pressed myself into the corner of the cafe so close to the glass that there’s instantly a mist of condensation across it from my hot breath, coating the grime.

‘Charlotte,’ she says. ‘You made it.’

‘I want to speak to Ava.’

‘And you will. When you get here. To our hideout. Bonnie and Clyde, finally on the run.’

‘We’re not children any more, Katie. I don’t want to play these games. Let me speak to my daughter. I want to know she’s safe.’ I want to fucking smash your face in, you crazy cunt.

‘You sound like you’re in one of those terrible straight-to-DVD thrillers.’ Her tone is light. Still so well spoken. So Katie. Pristine and perfect. ‘Lighten up. She’s fine. Looking forward to seeing me?’