The Good Sister(74)

Detective Brookes sits back in her chair. ‘You kidnapped your own child?’

I nod. ‘At least that’s what my sister is telling people.’

‘I wonder why she’d say that.’ She gives me a long assessing stare. ‘Why don’t you tell me a little about your sister?’

The question is too broad. I can’t even begin to narrow it, so I just pluck random facts out of my mind, as if from a hat. ‘She’s the same age as me.’

‘Oh. You’re twins?’

‘Fraternal twins. And we are very different. She’s short, and I’m tall. She has no sensory issues, but I do. She’s diabetic, and I’m not.’

The detective writes on her notepad. ‘Are you close?’

‘I’m not sure. I don’t know where the paediatric wing is.’

She smiles. ‘What I mean is . . . do you spend a lot of time together?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘And she is . . . a good sister?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She’s . . . kind? Does nice things for you?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘And other times?’

I throw up my hands. ‘I don’t know. She’s just Rose, okay?’

I’m frustrated by this conversation. I just want my baby. I’m not sure what Rose being a good sister has to do with anything.

The detective nods. ‘I understand your mother passed away very recently,’ she says, taking the conversation in another strange direction. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. The hospital staff indicated that you visit weekly.’

‘You’ve spoken to Sun Meadows? Why?’

‘Just part of our investigation. Your mother’s cause of death isn’t clear, so we just wanted to check up on a few things. We understand that your sister hadn’t visited in a very long time until she went the night before your mother died. Why was that? Didn’t she have a good relationship with your mother?’

‘Rose?’ I laugh. ‘She didn’t have a relationship with Mum at all.’

‘She never spoke with her?’

‘Well, no-one spoke with Mum. After her overdose, Mum couldn’t say two words. She improved a little over the last year. She was starting to talk in short sentences.’ I think of what she said to me about my baby. Don’t give Rose the baby. ‘Recently she told me not to give Rose my baby.’

If only I’d listened.

Detective Brookes writes some more in her notebook. Then she frowns thoughtfully. ‘That’s a pretty bold statement. Why do you think she would say that?’

I look at her. ‘I don’t understand. Why are you asking me about Rose and my mother? Aren’t you here to charge me with kidnapping?’

She smiles. ‘Not at this point.’ She taps my bracelet with her pen. ‘Let me guess, your sister has a matching bracelet?’

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘But with a rose on it.’

‘Because her name is Rose.’

I nod. She rises to her feet. ‘You’ve been very helpful. That’s all I need for now.’

‘Wait!’ My voice is hoarse. The detective raises her eyebrows. ‘Will I get my baby back?’

More than anything, I wish I had the ability to read other people’s facial expressions. Because when Detective Brookes narrows her eyes and says, ‘Leave it with me,’ I have absolutely no idea what it means.


An hour passes. Then two. I’m in hour three when I recognise the person loitering in the doorway.

‘Owen?’

‘Hey, Fernie.’

I blink. It’s him. It’s really him. ‘What are you doing here?’

He shrugs. His hands are tucked into his pockets and he seems as close to shy as I’ve ever seen him. ‘Can’t a guy visit his sister-in-law in the nuthouse?’

He’s had a haircut. Which isn’t unexpected, I suppose, since he’s been away a year. It suits him like this. He appears to have lost weight and gained muscle. Owen had always been well built, but these last few years he’d become a bit softer-looking.

London must be treating him well.

‘How did you know I was here?’ I ask.

‘Rose called me. She does that when she gets herself into trouble.’

‘And you came all the way from London?’

He looks confused. ‘London? No, I came from Brunswick.’

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘When did you get back from London?’

‘I haven’t been in London, Fern.’

‘Of course you have. You’ve been living there for the past year.’

Now he gives me a meaningful look. ‘I was going to ask what you’re doing in here, but clearly you are mad.’ He chuckles. ‘Why’d you think I was in London?’

‘You haven’t been living in London?’

‘No. Why would . . . wait. Did Rose tell you this?’

‘Yes. She said you have been working on a project over there. She went over to visit you last year.’

He laughs, but it is one of those nervous laughs. ‘Fern, for the last year I’ve been living on the other side of town. A few months back, I actually came and visited you a couple of times at the library. I didn’t want to go to your flat as I thought that might get you in trouble with Rose. When you didn’t get back to me, I assumed Rose had turned you against me and I gave up.’