‘I don’t know, I don’t know. I suppose the thought of Gemma leaving. Finishing university. Leaving for good. I started to worry about what it would be like. Just you and me, and I started to think about Canada. About my lies. Started wondering about your past a bit. And when I asked you, you were really weird with me. Avoiding me. And so I thought—’
‘But a private detective?’
‘I know, I know. It feels mad now. And terribly hypocritical, given my own lies. But it was the thought of Gemma leaving us for good. Starting a job. Just me and you in the house, not just during term time but all the time. And I’m getting older. And fatter. I started to worry that we might not make it, going forward. Without Gemma. I guess I thought, why wouldn’t you have an affair? Everyone else seems to. You don’t even know me. I’m a fake. A liar.’
‘Oh Rachel.’ Ed is looking at me with the eyes I cannot read. This man who was married to someone else once. This stranger? ‘How the hell did we get here?’ He stands and turns away for a moment.
I hold my breath and after a while he turns back, his expression softer.
‘I do love you, Rachel. I promise that I’ve never even thought about having an affair. But all these lies? I don’t know what to think any more.’ He pauses and drops his voice to add something I can’t make out.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t hear that.’
‘I said it was my fault, not yours. You can’t blame yourself for what your father did but I have no excuse. I don’t know what I was thinking not telling you about Laura. I suppose I just felt ashamed. For giving up on her. Walking away. I was so relieved when you didn’t push me in the early days. It was like getting a pass. Permission for a fresh start.’ He looks at Gemma now. ‘But I’ve let my guilt blind me. I honestly didn’t think she was capable of hurting anyone. Laura. I was sure the police were wrong to even suspect her. But I’m worried now that I was just hoping to let myself off the hook. I will never forgive myself if I’m to blame for what’s happened to our girl.’ His voice is terribly quiet again, hauntingly so.
I close my eyes. A myriad of scenes suddenly swirl through my mind. Go away until you calm down, Gemma. I’m not going to have an argument . . .
I can see her on the lawn again, running in and out of that sprinkler.
Next I am a child again in my rabbit slippers, watching my mother on the floor of the kitchen with blood on her face.
It’s as if the temperature in the room has changed and I feel as if I’m not quite in my own body, also a little bit sick. I listen to the rhythm of the monitors. The bleeping. The beat getting louder and louder.
‘Rachel. Stop that. You’re hurting yourself.’ Ed’s voice. I don’t know what he means and I don’t want to open my eyes to find out. It’s like I honestly felt until today that I was doing OK as a mother; that loving her with my whole heart was enough. And suddenly I realise that I’ve done a terrible job. No. Worse than a terrible job. I’ve done damage – and it’s like a picture coming into focus and I can’t believe I didn’t see any of this before.
‘Stop it, Rachel. Look at me.’
I open my eyes to find Ed is holding both my arms at the wrists. I struggle free and pound again at my head. Bashing each word into my forehead to match the bleep, bleep of the machines.
I’ve lied. And I’ve let Ed lie. I’ve let us build a whole family on lies, lies, lies to avoid anything uncomfortable.
Again, Ed grabs my wrists and holds them tighter this time so I have to stop the pounding. He looks into my eyes and I feel as if I am going to fall down. As if my skeleton is melting inside my body.
‘No. This is my fault, isn’t it?’ I look right into his eyes but it doesn’t sound like my voice. ‘I’ve let Gemma down. Never taught her how to deal with things. How to face things . . .’
I’m crying again, my wrists still held tight away from my body so that I cannot check the tears rolling down my face.
‘I’ll let go if you promise not to hit yourself.’
I don’t want him to let go. I am afraid that if he lets go, I will crumble to a pile of dust on the floor.
‘Look at me, Rachel. Do you promise to stop?’
‘What have we done?’ I stretch out my palms like a plea. Finally he lets go and I wait to fall. Through the floor.
Through time.
‘What have we done to our beautiful girl?’
CHAPTER 45
THE DAUGHTER – BEFORE