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

of a DNA whizz – noticed something about two of the samples: yours and one found on the lamp. So he did some sort of test – I can’t remember what it’s called. And it turns out the DNA sample on the lamp belongs to your mother.’

‘My … what?’

I stare at her and she stares back.

‘I know,’ she says. ‘So at first we thought, hang on, the victim here is Mrs Holland’s mother. So that would mean she’d bashed herself over the head with the lamp, which seems highly unlikely. But not all of the lamp DNA matches that of the victim; her blood is on it, obviously, but the attacker left a sample too, and that’s the one we’re talking about. And then your ex-husband called, telling us that this lady isn’t your mother at all, but has just been pretending to be in some sort of scam. Ian at the lab confirms that the lady in the bed definitely isn’t your mother. And your ex told us that in fact you haven’t actually been in contact with your real mother for decades. Which is very odd, because—’

‘Hang on, hang on.’

I’m completely lost.

‘Can you start again? Yes, OK, I know she’—I point to Alison—‘I know she isn’t my mother. Her name is actually Alison Allen. I didn’t know that last night, but I do now. But are you saying that the person who used the lamp to attack her’—I point to the bed again—‘was my mother? My biological mother?’

‘Correct. Ian’s positive about that. I remember now; it’s called a maternity DNA test. It’s ninety-nine point nine nine per cent accurate, apparently. But Mr Holland says you aren’t in touch with your biological mother, so we don’t really understand how that’s possible.’

A strange buzzing sound has started in my ears and I’m wondering if I’m about to faint. I reach out a hand and lean on the back of the nearest chair for support. I’ve never felt so confused in my life.

‘I’m sorry, I just … I just don’t understand.’

The police officer looks at me quizzically.

‘You do look pale, actually. Right, let me make this as simple as I can. The DNA tests have shown that this lady – Alison Allen? – was attacked last night by your biological mother. She left her DNA on the lamp, as well as in one or two other locations in your home – slightly older samples apparently. I don’t understand how that’s possible, if you say you’re not in contact. But it looks like the victim here let her in, as there was no sign of any forced entry. Mrs Holland, your biological mother, was in your house yesterday. There’s absolutely no doubt about that.’

Chapter 39

‘Alison! You need to wake up, now!’

I hiss the words fiercely, poking her on the shoulder for good measure. She groans softly, eyes still closed.

‘Alison! Come on.’

After dropping their bombshell, the police have left, saying they’ll be back to interview Alison as soon as she’s well enough to speak. I’ve had to give them details about my mother too, now that she’s the prime suspect in the case – not that I’ve been able to tell them much. Her full name is about all I’ve got. Now I’m in shock; my legs are wobbly, my skin clammy.

‘Alison!’ I say again, louder this time, and finally her eyelids flutter. She blinks once, twice, and I lean over her, willing her to stay awake.

‘Alison, I need to talk to you urgently, OK? Just for a minute, and then I’ll call a nurse for you.’

‘Ummm …’ she says, then swallows, blinks again and says, ‘What is it?’

‘OK, good. Look, the police have just been here and they’ve told me something incredible, something totally bizarre. They’ve now got DNA evidence and it shows that the person who attacked you last night was my mother. My real mother. Alice. And I know you said you can’t really remember anything, but I need you to think, Alison. I need you to think very, very hard. The police will be coming back to talk to you too; they’re going to want a description – anything you’ve got. So come on, think. What happened last night? What did she look like, the person who attacked you? You must have let her in … so come on. I need to know. You have to tell me anything you can remember. Anything …’

And then I stare at her in astonishment because she’s grinning. Not just grinning, laughing. Actually laughing, a low, rumbling laugh, her chest heaving.

‘What … what the …?’ I splutter. She coughs and her laughter fades.

‘Ahhh, this is funny,’ she whispers. ‘Funny, and so ironic, don’t you think?’

I’m still staring at her, not understanding, and she rolls her eyes.

‘So ironic that the person who stopped me pretending to be your mother was actually your mother,’ she says. ‘You’re not very bright, are you, Beth? You let me walk into your life, no questions asked. And you let your actual mother do the same, didn’t you?’

‘What? Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

She smiles.

‘I know, and that’s what’s so funny. OK, what the hell. I’m going to tell you something, Beth. But first, I want you to promise something. I’ll tell you this, but I’m going to carry on telling the police I can’t remember anything about last night, OK? And in return, I’m asking you not to make any formal complaint against me for impersonating your mother, or for any of the things I’ve done to you over the past couple of months. I haven’t got much time left, Beth, and I don’t have time for a police investigation, for possible charges. I want to spend my final days with Liv. With my daughter.’

I stare at her for a moment – what on earth is going on here? – and then I nod.

‘I promise,’ I say.

She sighs.

‘OK. I lied earlier, Beth. When I said I only had vague memories of last night.