Mirrorland by Carole Johnstone (books for 6 year olds to read themselves txt) 📕

told you he’s allowed me to have. He succeeded, in the end, in chasing off Mouse after she came back. And when he thought I might be having an affair with my friend Vik, he threatened to find out who he was and kill him. He stopped letting me do any voluntary work. Threatened to stop letting me paint, if I ever contacted either of them again. To take away my boat. He even papered over the door to Mirrorland. And I let him do all of those things. Until I wanted to die for real.

He found me, of course. Made me vomit all the pills back up, made me walk around that fucking house until I could see and hear and cry again. And that was when he told me that he was still in touch with you. That if I ever tried to leave him again, he would do everything to you that he had done to me. And I remembered that encyclopaedia entry about Captain Henry Morgan. I knew that you’d try to survive by pretending what was happening wasn’t happening. By pretending your prison wasn’t a prison and your jailer wasn’t a monster. Until the day that you died. And so, of all the whys, that’s the real one. I’m not noble, I’m not brave. He just finally made a mistake. He gave me no possibility at all of parole.

Here is the how:

I like to plan, remember? Just like Andy Dufresne. So, here is THE PLAN No. 2.

Phase I: It was Vik who unwittingly gave me the idea for using The Redemption. He works for Lothian Marine Insurance, specialising in accident or negligence claims for recreational vessels. He told me all sorts of stories of deliberate sabotage – and how they were discovered. Yesterday evening, I visited him at his huge open-plan office, and while he was making coffee, I went to an empty desk on the other side of the building to call Ross and beg him to come back from London. I’d already made an online query in his name from our home computer, requesting a callback. The call should never be traced back to me through Vik because he’s just a very small cog in a very big wheel; Lothian Marine Insurance employs thousands of people – and anyway, no one other than Ross even knows we’re friends, and he doesn’t know Vik’s name. I have a second phone, a pay-as-you-go that I use to talk to friends without Ross knowing. And I’ve made Vik swear never to go to the police no matter what happens to me. When LMI call back Ross for real, he’ll hang up before they get to the end of their first sentence; he hates cold calling. So he will have no alibi. And a husband speaking to a marine insurance company the day before his wife is lost at sea is perhaps unlucky, but more likely guilty.

I bought a drain plug with cash a few weeks ago. Exactly the same as the one I already have. I bought two hole saws. I’ve drilled some holes with the first in the underside of the cuddy that will hopefully go unnoticed because I need that saw to be forensically traced back to the boat. I’ve left that and the new drain plug in the house, in Bluebeard’s Room, and my kayak in the shed, where I hope the police will eventually find them.

When the time comes, I’ll take the original drain plug out, toss it into the firth. It shouldn’t ever be discovered, because it takes a while for a boat to sink only from the lack of that. I’ll sail to the deepwater channel, take down the mast, disable the EPIRB and GPS. The hole saw is more of a risk. The boat will sink fast after I’ve used it for real, but I’ll just have to throw it overboard as far as I can and hope that The Redemption drifts far enough that the hole saw is never found.

Phase II: One good thing about Ross: he’s predictable. A few weeks before I had anything close to resembling even a Phase I, I found the note he left me all those years ago, setting me up to catch you both in the Rosemount. It was in his wallet, of all places – I guess he still likes his trophies. Finding it was a gift. Because I couldn’t be sure that he’d get the blame for my death, that he’d even be suspected of it. I could be sure that you’d come back. That he’d get to you, try to keep you. Unless I could get to you first. Both of us have to escape – that’s the deal I’ve made with myself. That’s the whole point of THE PLAN No. 2.

For weeks now, I’ve been acting like the abused wife I am, instead of hiding it. It’s surprisingly liberating. And it’s surprising too, how comforting it is to know that friends really are friends, that all they want to do is help. (By the way, if you’ve met her, I’m sorry about Anna, she can be loyal to a fault. But if you need her, she’ll be on your side.)

I know how Ross works. I know the what, the why, the when, the how of everything that he’ll say and do to you. I’ve even given Vik a timetable for the email clues I’ve asked him to send you as Mouse. Please believe me, if I could spare you any of this, I would. But there’s no other way. And I think you’ll work all of it out just like you’re supposed to. I think you’ll remember. I think you’ll stop believing the lie. I think you’ll believe me. I think you’ll be believed. I think you’ll be the one who finds him guilty, and then the world will follow. I think you’d avenge me before you’d ever think of saving yourself. That is my hope. That