Her Perfect Family(84)
Amanda, it turns out, is not right in the head. Seriously.
It’s like she has this split personality. I mean – she seems so together on the surface. The smart suits and all the strutting about, managing photo shoots and press conferences. Always so busy, busy, busy. So ‘on it’. But underneath, she’s just like the rest of us. No. Way, way worse than the rest of us. She’s messed up. Dilated pupils. Def on something some days.
When she changed her mind about the work experience, I was so grateful. Two whole weeks in her office. It was perfect for my CV. And she was so nice to me at first. Coffees and sandwiches at lunchtime at work. Then a drink in the bar after a really long day. Then a meal out to talk about my career. My future.
And then? After she caught me crying in the loo one day and I stupidly blurted it all out – broke down about the baby – I thought she was being so much more than a mentor. A new friend. The shoulder I so badly needed. Steady. Kind. So supportive.
She actually invited me round to her house, and it was such a relief to have one person on the planet to properly confide in. I couldn’t believe how steady she was. I should have realised it was all fake; that none of it was to help me.
It was after I confided about the pregnancy – not knowing what to do – that she started to get really weird. Said she was retiring early. It was a big secret, she said, but it could solve everything for me. For both of us. She said she could help with my career. Help with the baby too. Some days it was like she was on something. Wired. When she first mentioned private adoption, I thought she meant advice. Something for me to investigate. An option for me. But that’s not what she meant at all.
Plus she somehow guessed who the father was. Confronted me. And now she’s texting me constantly. Trying to get me to change my mind. She’s got this mad idea that I should let her have my baby. Can you believe it? A sort of ‘unofficial’ arrangement. She’s off her head!
I’m keeping well clear but she’s threatening to phone my parents. To report the affair and challenge my degree. Do you really want everyone to know how you got your first? As if. I spent three years slaving for it.
So. For now I’m just trying to distance myself. To get back on track. I’ve told her to stay away from me. That I just want to get past the graduation, and then talk to my parents.
CHAPTER 69
THE PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
‘Hello. Coffee break.’ Matthew moves quickly into the cubicle, pushing the door shut with his foot behind him. Both Rachel and Amanda are seated. Body language very tense.
‘The nurses mentioned on the door you were here so I got you a black, Amanda. That OK?’ He holds out a cup to her and notices immediately that her pupils are dilated.
Rachel widens her eyes and glances towards a trolley next to Amanda. There’s a phone on the top shelf. It vibrates with a text or message.
‘I didn’t know you were coming here.’ Amanda stares at him and reaches for the phone, which she puts in her jacket pocket. She doesn’t check the message. Is that Rachel’s phone? Is that what she’s signalling?
On the satellite call, Molly said Amanda had been caught using cocaine but had confessed to an addiction to sleeping tablets and other prescription drugs too. She blamed it all on the trauma over Sam. Molly also discovered she didn’t even have a degree (as her CV stated) – a baseline requirement for senior staff. Alone, she said she would have overlooked it, but in context it was leverage for the severance. The drugs were the main issue.
Matthew wonders what exactly Amanda’s using. He thinks of Sam’s murder just a few hours earlier. He considers an immediate dive to put her in a hold, but Amanda quickly pulls her bag on to her lap and reaches into it. She meets his eye as a warning. He stills himself.
‘Could you give us a minute, Matthew? We were just sorting out something private here.’ Amanda’s still looking at him and keeps her hand firmly inside her bag, clearly gripping something.
‘Actually I’ve asked Amanda to leave now.’ Rachel stands and moves closer to Gemma’s bed. ‘I’m very tired.’
‘I won’t stay, then. Just wanted to update that it’s all going well at the cathedral.’ Matthew pretends to check his watch. ‘I need to get back there, actually. Can give you a lift if you like, Amanda?’
‘I’ve got my own car.’ Amanda scrapes her chair backwards towards the wall so that she can see both Matthew and Rachel Hartley too.
Matthew sips his drink. ‘Where’s your husband?’ He keeps his voice steady as he looks at Rachel.
‘Taking a shower.’
‘Maybe you’d like to take a little break too. Join him? Get some rest?’
‘She’s going nowhere. Actually, can we change seats, Rachel?’ Amanda glances between Rachel and the window on to the ward. The blinds are down but Matthew’s hoping once the armed officers arrive, they’ll be able to make out movements through the gaps.
‘I’m fine here. I like to be next to Gemma.’ Rachel’s voice cracks and Matthew can see that her hand is shaking as she reaches out to take her daughter’s.
‘I said we need to change seats.’ Amanda’s head is jerking strangely, like a tic, and she takes her right hand, now holding a gun, from her bag and points it at Gemma.
Rachel lets out a horrible noise. Like an animal in pain. She then throws herself on to the bed, shielding Gemma’s body. ‘You stay away from her. You leave us alone.’