The Secret Mother(41)

‘But Harry was with social services for days before his dad came forward,’ I persist. ‘Why did Fisher leave it so long to report him missing? He was—’

Chibuzo cuts me off. ‘We strongly advise against playing amateur detective. We have the facts, and if anything seems amiss we’ll follow up on it. You taking matters into your own hands isn’t helping anyone, least of all yourself.’

‘It’s my reputation that’s being dragged through the mud,’ I counter.

‘Tessa,’ Marshall says. ‘Did you take Harry last Sunday and bring him to your house?’

‘What!’ My chest tightens. I can’t believe they’re going over all this again. ‘No, I didn’t take him. How many times do I have to tell you before you’ll believe me? I never set eyes on him until I found him in my house.’

‘The thing is,’ Chibuzo says, ‘you going all the way to Dorset today, it doesn’t look good, no matter what your reasons.’

‘Okay,’ I agree. ‘I know, I messed up. I shouldn’t have gone. But I’m under a lot of stress with all those journalists camped outside my house. I just wanted to try to clear my name. But I get it, I made a mistake.’

‘Look,’ Chibuzo says, her tone softening once more. ‘Like I said, we’re just warning you that it’s in everyone’s best interests if you stay away from Dr Fisher and his family. Leave the man in peace, okay? Can you do that for me, Tessa? I don’t want to have to turn up at your house to arrest you.’

‘Fine,’ I say quietly, already feeling like a criminal.

‘Good.’ She ends the interview and gets to her feet.

Marshall stands to join her, and tells me I’m free to go.



* * *



I cannot wait to get home, despite the chaos outside my house. Today has seemed to last forever. I drive back on autopilot, cursing the police for showing up like that. Because of them, the press will now recognise my hire car. They’ll see me coming. Sure enough, as I head towards the house, the pack turns towards me. With a grim smile, I flick the headlights to full beam to blind them as a little ‘fuck you’. My small triumph doesn’t last very long, as they soon crowd around the car. I fling the door open, hoping it will hit one of them in the face or, even better, the nuts. But they’re wise to it, and move back out of the way just in time.

‘What did the police want, Tessa?’

‘Are you in trouble?’

‘Can you tell us where you’ve been all day?’

I stride past, head down, trying to block out their cries. Surely they’ll give up soon and go and pester someone else. Can’t they tell this story is dead? Over. Finished. I have the feeling that this really could be the end of it all. That I’ll never know why Harry was brought to my house. That it will be one of those mysteries I’ll simply have to live with.

I walk through my gate and up to the front door, desperate to get inside. To sit down and organise my thoughts. At last, I close the door behind me and lean back against it for a moment, listening to the blood whooshing inside my head. The house is damp, cold as an ice box, the hall light no comfort. I must have left it on this morning. I walk through to the kitchen. It seems like weeks since I was last here. I can hardly believe it was just this morning. In fact, time has been playing strange tricks on me all week. It’s only been five days since Harry showed up at my house and turned my life sideways yet it feels like months ago.

I freeze as I hear a soft thump from upstairs. What the hell was that? I strain my ears. Voices upstairs… burglars? It can’t be. No one would be crazy enough to break into my house with all that lot outside. My heart judders as I hear the creak of a door, then footsteps on the landing.

Whoever it is, they’re about to come down the stairs.





Chapter Twenty





Maybe it’s Scott. But then who’s he talking to? Not Ellie, surely. He better bloody not have brought her into my house. Just in case it’s an intruder, I gingerly slide open the cutlery drawer and pull out a carving knife. It’s pretty blunt, but it could still do some damage.

‘Hello?’ a woman’s voice calls out from the stairs. My stairs. ‘Tessa, is that you?’

I recognise that rasp. But she can’t have let herself into my home without permission. Surely not. She wouldn’t dare. ‘Carly?’ I call out, striding into the hallway to see her staring down the staircase at me.

‘Hi, Tessa,’ she says with a smile, bold as brass.

‘What the hell are you doing in my house?’ I cry.

‘Don’t be mad, Tessa. It’s a surprise.’ She takes a few more steps until she’s halfway down the stairs. I’m still at the bottom, staring up at her.

‘I’ve had enough surprises to last a lifetime,’ I retort. ‘And answer my question. What are you doing here? And who were you talking to? I heard voices.’

‘Just trust me,’ she says. ‘You’ll be pleased, I promise.’

I’m so angry right now I want to push her down the staircase and kick her out onto the street. I begin marching up the stairs towards her.

‘Is that a knife?’ Carly takes a step back.

I realise I’m still gripping the carving knife, brandishing it in her direction. ‘I thought you were a burglar.’ I drop my hand to hold it loosely at my side.