The Visitors(82)

‘There have been two others like you.’ Patricia shrugged. ‘They also got themselves into a state like this and had to leave. Now it is you.’

Holly could see that the housekeeper viewed her as just another inconvenience to clean up after.

‘I’m having a baby,’ she whispered.

Patricia shrugged. ‘So were the others, but they both miscarried. Miss Geraldine, she is always disappointed.’

Everything had fallen into place then like a sinister jigsaw. Right back to Brendan’s interview, him so interested in Holly’s life story, her parents and heritage… the pressure for her to get into shape, keep healthy… The whole thing had been planned.

Brendan and Geraldine had done this before.

She had pushed past Patricia and run downstairs, confronting the two of them.

‘You drugged me… raped me!’ she spat at Brendan, and then turned to Geraldine. ‘And you knew all along what would happen. All because you’re desperate for a child.’

‘Calm down!’ Geraldine had slapped her face and Holly had been stunned into silence. ‘You’re talking nonsense… you’re losing your mind. We’re offering you support, that’s all. Nobody wants to take your child.’

Holly had cried and Geraldine had held her like a baby, soothing her with words. She felt so confused, so alone… Was it true? Was she losing her mind?

These two people were all she had.



* * *



Holly grew stronger, became well, and the whole incident was ring-fenced as a no-go area.

Geraldine treated her like glass.

‘I’ve told Brendan I want a divorce,’ she said one day when they were out for lunch. ‘You’re like a sister to me now, Holly. He’s going to move out and I’ll help you look after the baby.’

Holly had felt as if she was playing a lead role in some kind of sick play. Without Geraldine, she had literally nothing; she was penniless, alone and pregnant.

But despite Geraldine’s assertions that she was furious with her husband, Holly felt she wasn’t quite as innocent as she claimed. After all, Patricia had told her there had been two others.

Holly had tried speaking about the other girls, but Geraldine had shut her down.

They shopped for baby clothes, a cot, a car seat… and the nursery was currently being decorated in lemon.

Geraldine accompanied Holly to her hospital appointment, playing the role of the baby’s father almost. Geraldine paid privately for Holly to have an early ultrasound scan which included photographs.

‘We’d like to know the sex of the baby if possible,’ she said.

‘Sorry,’ the medic had said. ‘You’ll need to wait until your daughter is a minimum of sixteen weeks.’

Holly watched as Geraldine’s jaw set in irritation at his mistake but she said nothing.



* * *



Holly went into labour two days before the expected delivery date.

‘I’ll stay with you the whole time,’ Geraldine had said, clasping her hand in a caring manner. ‘Don’t be afraid, we’ll get through this together.’

A doctor and a foreign nurse who couldn’t speak any English came to the house, but Holly didn’t feel sad or lonely or afraid. She simply felt dead inside.

She had an epidural and the birth was straightforward. But before she could hold her baby, Geraldine had taken him from the nurse and spoken quietly with the doctor.

When she returned to Holly’s bedside, her cheeks had been flushed and her eyes bright.

‘Evan is doing fine,’ she told Holly. ‘He’s the perfect weight and the doctor says he’s strong and healthy.’

‘Evan?’ Holly had frowned.

‘That’s the baby’s name,’ Geraldine had told her.





Chapter Sixty-Seven





Holly





Holly had been watching Cora for a long time.

It had soon become apparent that every time Cora visited the bank, she shot straight upstairs, closing her bedroom curtains.

She had complained several times to Holly about mistrusting banks and how disgusting it was that people got no interest at all on their savings in the current economic climate.

She sometimes talked about her late husband’s set ways and strong opinions, but as far as Holly could tell, she had seemed to perpetuate these needlessly, long after his death. Holly had often wondered who Cora used to be before a controlling marriage had slowly stripped her of her true self.

Then there had been all the shuffling and scraping that day Holly had stood listening outside the bedroom door. The high colour and heated sheen on Cora’s face indicated that she’d been over-exerting herself, perhaps lifting… and suddenly, pairing this knowledge with the contents of the letter Holly had found, all the pieces had come together and Holly knew.

She’d waited until Cora went out again and then crept upstairs to her bedroom. She’d tucked both hands under one corner of the mattress and pushed up with all her might… and there it was.

She’d stared at it, her eyes filling up with the realisation that she had at last uncovered the key to finding her son again.

Now all she had to do was to work out the best way of getting her hands on it.