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The Couple at No. 9(134)

Author:Claire Douglas

I considered going to the police there and then. It was obvious from those photos that he’d be struck off the medical register, might even go to prison. But I was scared and intimidated by him. I couldn’t risk that he might try and wriggle out of it. He was a respected doctor, and he might have destroyed all the proof that I’d been artificially inseminated. He’d lie, manipulate, say we had been in a relationship and that the baby was his.

I had no choice but to run as far away as I could, taking the file with me.

The next half-hour was the most frightening of my life as I frantically packed my belongings into two suitcases, leaving a lot behind. And then I called a taxi and asked for it to pick me up two streets away. All the while my heart pounded as I expected Victor to turn up at any minute and stop me. As I ran down the streets, pulling my suitcases, I thought of him chasing me, my heart beating wildly. I only felt safe when I got into the taxi, and then when I boarded the train, knowing that each mile was taking me further and further away from him.

I didn’t come to Beggars Nook straight away. I stayed in a bed-and-breakfast in Chippenham while I trawled estate agents until I found a property cheap enough for me to afford: 9 Skelton Place.

Hidden away.

Or so I thought.

Until now.

55

Lorna

The apartment looks bare without all of Alberto’s things. Lorna walks around it forlornly. More years of her life wasted with the wrong man. Her heart feels heavy but she knows it’s not for him. It’s for the daughter and son-in-law she’s left behind in England. She’s had enough of flitting from country to country and from man to man. She wants to be near Saffy and the baby, when he or she arrives. Put down roots for once. Theo and Jen flash into her mind. A brother she never knew she had. She wants a relationship with them, too, despite the dark secrets that lurk in the past. And more than anything she wants to make it up to Saffy for not always being there when she was a kid. Her daughter’s words occasionally worm their way into her mind when she’s going about her day.

She could rent a little place somewhere on the Bristol Channel so she’s not too far away from Saffy. Yes, she resolves, as she perches on the edge of her bed and kicks off her boots. Yes, she’ll do it. First thing tomorrow she’ll put the plan into motion: the lease here is a rolling one. She can leave more or less straight away. She’s suddenly energized at the thought.

She takes out the photograph of Daphne and Rose standing in front of the cottage with their flared jeans and tank tops. Daphne – the taller of the two – has her arm slung around Rose’s shoulders. Saffy had given it to her before she left. She can’t stop staring at it, at her real mother’s beautiful face, searching for some resemblance. Ever since they found out the truth, she’s been dreaming about her, the pretty, petite woman with the golden-brown hair and the chocolate eyes – eyes like hers and Saffy’s. Snapshots of a life come to her in her subconscious when she’s asleep: walks through the woods holding her real mother’s hand, standing in the village square listening to Christmas carols and drinking hot cocoa. She doesn’t know if they’re memories or her brain imagining scenarios she wishes were true. The sadness she’d felt in Beggars Nook when she tried to remember her past. That had been real. She’d been grieving her mother – the real Rose – and hadn’t even known it.

Earlier she’d heard from DS Barnes. The DNA results were in.

He told her the DNA taken from the second body was a close enough match to Lorna’s to suggest it was her mother’s.

It hadn’t been a surprise but Lorna had still burst into tears when she got the news.

As she places the photo on the side table, her thoughts are interrupted by her mobile ringing. Saffy’s name flashes up on screen and her heart lifts.

‘Hi, honey, you okay?’

‘Mum!’ Saffy sounds breathless. ‘We’ve found it! The evidence that Davies was looking for. The evidence Rose hid in the fireplace. It’s …’ she gulps ‘… it’s a folder with photographs of naked women.’