The Happy Family by Jackie Kabler (electric book reader txt) 📕

to the window. My limbs are heavy as I draw the curtains open. Eloise’s room is at the front of the house and the road outside is empty and quiet this early on a Sunday morning. I watch listlessly as a squirrel scampers across the small square front lawn of the house opposite and spirals itself up the trunk of the nearest tree like a tiny grey acrobat, then I lean my hot forehead against the cool glass and close my eyes.

Who then? Of those who’ve been in my house in recent weeks, who could it be? They must be responsible for the anonymous letter and the videos, mustn’t they? And maybe some of the other things that have gone wrong recently too. And – the thought strikes me suddenly, my eyes snapping open – is it because Mum’s come back that they, whoever they are, have chosen now to do this? It’s perfect timing after all, because this should be one of the happiest times of my life – my mother back with me, my family reunited. If you want to punish someone for destroying your family, or the family of someone you’re close to, why not pick a time when they’re extra happy? It makes watching them fall apart even sweeter, doesn’t it?

But who? Who? Right now, I think I’ve narrowed it down to the three most likely suspects, and I run through the names in my head.

Deborah. Barbara. Robin. They’re the ones who’ve been acting strangely recently. But could one of them really have some connection with Lucy or with her family?

None of them have contacted me since the videos went online, and while Robin, if she’s innocent, may not know about the Facebook post, the other two surely must – Ruth will have told Deborah, and Brenda will have told Barbara – and their silence has been deafening. But if it was one of them, that means they’ve known all about me and what I did to Lucy from the very beginning, doesn’t it? It would mean they came into my life deliberately and then bided their time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, to take their revenge. They waited months. Years. The thought of that makes me shiver again, and I wonder if this is all just too far-fetched. There must be some other explanation, but I can’t think of one, can’t think of anything else that could explain this. Barring a break-in, of which there’s been absolutely no sign, only a handful of people have had access to my bedroom. And whoever did this used the name Daphne Blake, which can only be a reference to Lucy Allen. There’s nothing else that makes any sense. Unless …

I think about Mike again. He’s the only other possibility, but if he knew about Lucy he’d have told Mum, I’m pretty sure of that. Even so, I’m wondering now if it’s time to confront him, to ask him straight. Time to take control of it before it takes control of me. Before it destroys me. I shiver again and turn away from the window.

Yes, I did what I did to Lucy Allen. And if someone’s decided to punish me now, properly, all these years later, fine. Well done, you’ve done a bloody good job. My reputation, my livelihood, my friends, my family, my sanity … but enough. Enough, now. I can’t take any more. Somehow, I have to make it stop.

Chapter 28

I sacked Robin last night. I’m driving to work, feeling sick at the thought of my seven-thirty meeting, and even sicker about Robin. I had a long chat with Mum yesterday afternoon and that was the outcome – a phone call to the woman who’s been my right arm for the past eighteen months to tell her I no longer require her services.

‘So you’re not going to the police about it then?’ Mum said, and my stomach flipped. We were sitting on the sofa, mugs of tea and a plate of chocolate biscuits on the go. No booze yesterday, because although by the evening I could have murdered a drink, I knew it would be a dreadful idea, especially with what I’m facing this morning.

‘No! No need for that; it was just a prank,’ I replied with a smile, as inside my head a little voice issued a stern warning.

No. No police. How can I report this to the police when now I know exactly why it’s happened? I can’t go to the police and I can’t talk this through with anyone either. Nobody can find out about Lucy, nobody …

‘OK, whatever you think,’ she said, and I thought she looked at me rather strangely for minute, but then her face cleared and she sighed. ‘I’ve told Liv, by the way. She sends her love and sympathy. She’s furious about it, on your behalf.’

‘That’s nice of her.’ It is, but the thought of my new-found sister seeing those pictures – oh, please, don’t let her look at them – makes me feel ill.

‘Anyway, I’ve been thinking, really thinking about all this nonsense,’ Mum continued. ‘And I know you don’t want to believe anything bad about her, but honestly, love, I think it can only have been Robin. I mean, it seems such a silly, childish thing to do for a joke, and potentially really damaging too, for your career and your reputation’—she shook her head, a flash of real anger in her eyes, and it made me happy, briefly, to see that outrage, that maternal defensiveness, the lioness fighting to protect her cub—‘but there’s no way your work friends would do something so stupid, and as for your neighbours, well, they may not be true friends. They made that pretty clear …’

She rolled her eyes, then carried on.

‘But I just don’t see how they’d have time to fit cameras if they were just nipping upstairs to the loo or whatever. I mean, I don’t know anything about that sort of thing really but