The perfect daughter, p.1
The Perfect Daughter, page 1
The Perfect Daughter
Alex Stone
For all those who encouraged me to follow my dreams.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Acknowledgments
More from Alex Stone
About the Author
About Boldwood Books
1
Now
I lied.
I never used to lie. I never used to do anything my mother would disapprove of. I was a good girl. A good daughter. A perfect daughter. At least, that’s what I tried to be.
But perfect doesn’t really exist.
‘I love him.’ I paused. The word caught in my throat. ‘I loved him.’ It was amazing the difference putting one little ‘d’ on the end of a word could make. It changed everything. Our future had become the past with that one little letter. But it also made it less of a lie. I had loved him. Once.
The police officer shifted slightly in the armchair opposite. I could feel pity emanating from him. It made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to pity.
I had mastered the art of always maintaining the appearance of being fine. Always just fine. It was a balancing act. A show I put on for the outside world regardless of how I felt inside, like the smile I painted on with pink lipstick each day. It was always the same shade, subtle and pale, nothing too bright. Never a vibrant red. That would look too fake, as though I was trying too hard. It had to look natural. Plausible.
Except today. Today it wasn’t acceptable to look like I was fine. Today I was expected to be sad, heartbroken and mournful.
I twisted my hands together in my lap. I heard Mum sniff beside me. She reached out and placed her hand on top of mine with a gentle squeeze. It was a sweet gesture. Supportive. Motherly. She was letting me know she was there for me. But there were no tears in her eyes, not for Adam. Never for him.
She’d hated him. She’d made that clear from the start. There was never any pretence with her. She wasn’t one to mask her feelings. She said that would be insincere. False. A lie.
Mum despised lies. To her there was nothing worse. It was unforgivable. It didn’t matter what kind of lie it was. Big or small, it was irrelevant. A lie was a lie. That was all that mattered.
She had a sixth sense for them. She was like a human lie detector. She always knew. Maybe I looked guilty and my fear betrayed me. Or maybe it was just that she was too suspicious.
Mum saw deception all around her. She didn’t trust anyone. Not even me. Not even when I was innocent. Perhaps she saw something in me. I took a shaky breath. What did she see in me now?
The police officer cleared his throat. I squinted at his name badge, trying to make out the letters from across Mum’s living room. I was sure he’d introduced himself when he’d arrived. It had only been a few minutes ago and yet his name had evaporated from my memory already. Ironic, really. There were so many things I would like to forget and yet they stayed with me. Taunting me.
And then there were other things; things that didn’t seem possible; things I had no recollection of; but things that changed everything.
‘Miss Harper, I’m sorry to have to ask you this, but were there any problems in your relationship?’
I blinked. I paused for a moment, debating how to answer. ‘Is any relationship without problems?’
He studied me carefully and I tried not to shuffle under his gaze. Perhaps my response had been too reasoned. Too formal.
‘So there were problems?’
I bit my lip. ‘Occasionally.’ I shrugged. ‘But nothing of any real consequence.’ Another lie.
‘How long had you known Adam?’
‘We met in May.’ I smiled slightly at the memory. Everything had been so different then. Our lives had been full of possibilities. New relationships were like that; full of firsts. First date. First kiss. First lie. First betrayal.
Nine months, that’s all we’d had together. It didn’t seem much. Nine was such a small number. But when we were together it had seemed like an eternity.
2
Then
‘Hi, Mum,’ I called as I turned the key and pushed open her front door.
‘Oh, you’re here, then.’
My body tensed as I closed the heavy wooden door behind me. Her unspoken ‘at last’ hung heavily in the air.
I glanced at my watch: 6.08 p.m. I winced.
‘Sorry, traffic out of Bournemouth town centre was—’
Mum grunted, cutting though my excuses. ‘The traffic wouldn’t be a problem if you left on time, Jessica.’
I met her penetrating blue eyes and tried not to squirm. ‘I know, but the meeting overran. It was only a couple of minutes, but…’
She rolled her eyes. ‘They know what time you finish. You should just tell them that you have to leave. You’re letting them take advantage of you. They only pay you to be there until 5.30 p.m.’
I swallowed but said nothing. What could I say? She was right, of course. I’d never been good at leaving dead on time. It just wasn’t that easy. Delays happened. Sometimes I needed to finish what I was working on, or a meeting ran long. It wasn’t like I planned to be late, but then it also wasn’t as though it was critical for me to leave exactly on time. Was it?
Most of my colleagues had kids to get home to. They had football practice, or dance lessons to drive them to. And yet even they stayed sometimes. Whereas me… How could I explain that I needed to be at my mother’s at 6 p.m. promptly without fail?
Mum stood in the kitchen doorway, watching me. She looked so sad and alone. Guilt churned in my stomach. Those few minutes didn’t seem significant to me, but they mattered to her.
‘I’ll be sure to leave on time tomorrow.’
She smiled and I felt my shoulders relax as I slipped off my jacket.
‘When did you buy that?’
I froze at the sharpness of her tone. I frowned slightly, trying to catch up with the change in conversation.
I followed her gaze to my red top.
‘You went shopping without me.’
It wasn’t a question, but an accusation.
‘No. I mean, yes, but…’ I shook my head and let out a feeble laugh. ‘It wasn’t like that. I met Karen for coffee in town last weekend and had a few minutes to kill before my bus home.’
‘I could have come with you.’ Mum’s voice was small and dejected.
My jacket weighed heavily in my hands. I’d hurt her.
‘It was only a couple of minutes.’ I tried to justify my neglect.
‘I could have met you after you’d seen your friend. I wouldn’t have got in the way. We could have gone for lunch and made a day of it.’ Mum lowered her gaze and stared at the floor. ‘Unless you didn’t want me there…’
‘No, of course I did. That would have been nice. Lovely, even. In fact, we should do that.’ I was babbling. I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
It was the expression on her face that did it; pinched and pained. The hurt showed in the hunch of her shoulders that made her seem smaller and more vulnerable. The realisation that I’d made her feel unwelcome and unwanted tore at my heart.
‘This Saturday?’ Mum stared at me, her eyes wide and hopeful, watching me intently for any sign of hesitation.
I smiled. ‘Yes, absolutely.’ The agreement slipped easily from my lips as my mind raced. I was meant to be meeting the girls from work for lunch on Saturday. I would have to cancel now. I’d just tell them something had come up. They wouldn’t question it.
‘You’re a good daughter.’
I smiled, feeling a warm glow wash over me. I was redeemed. My earlier thoughtlessness had been forgiven.
‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
My smile wavered. She was pleased with me. I was still loved. And yet there was an implication behind her words; a desperation. Beneath her appreciation I could hear her unspoken words.
You can never leave.
I rubbed my arms as I shivered. The early evening chill must have followed me inside.
Mum nodded, a sharp, short nod of approval, and then disappeared into the kitchen. I stared after her, fee
I shrugged as I hung my coat on a peg. Of course not. A mother and daughter day was far more ‘me’.
Mum was already sitting at the table when I walked into the kitchen. I glanced out of the window behind her and smiled slightly. The sight of the ocean always comforted me. It was one of the things I loved about this old house.
I frowned and turned away. Perhaps more accurately, it was the only thing I loved.
‘I bought some minced beef. I thought we could have spaghetti bolognese tonight,’ Mum said.
I smiled and stifled a groan. So much for my plan of popping yesterday’s leftover homemade chicken casserole into the microwave and giving me a night off cooking.
‘Sure, why not?’ I said with another shrug.
I pulled a frying pan from the drawer beneath the hob and rummaged through the fridge for the packet of minced beef. I tipped it into the pan to cook and took a deep breath. Neither my evening nor my weekend were going to work out quite as I’d planned, but at least I still had Friday night to look forward to. I felt a smile tug at the corner of my lips. Just one more day and then—
‘You’re very smiley this evening.’
I heard the suspicion in Mum’s voice.
‘I got asked out on a date.’ I set a pan of water to boil, feeling like a teenager, full of excitement and pride when a cute boy in my class had spoken to me.
Mum stared at me, her lips parted. ‘A date?’
She questioned it as though she didn’t understand the words.
‘By who?’
I laughed nervously, playing for time as I opened a tin of tomatoes and emptied them into a pan with a sprinkling of herbs. I knew my response would elicit a reaction. I doubted it would be a good one. There simply wasn’t a right answer to that question. Whoever the guy was, Mum would find an issue with him.
I took a deep breath. ‘The plumber.’
Mum shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I thought you said the plumber.’
I swallowed. ‘I did.’
Her expression darkened. I shouldn’t have told her. She didn’t need to know every detail of my life. And yet, somehow, she always did. She knew how to draw information out of me, even things I’d promised myself I wouldn’t say.
She didn’t even have to try hard to get me to talk now. It was so ingrained in me. Her need to know had become my need to tell her. She didn’t believe in secrets. That’s what she always said.
We don’t have secrets, Jessica. Not between us.
It was too late now, though. I’d already opened the door, inviting her judgement in.
‘He came to repair the leak under my kitchen sink, and we just got chatting.’ I clamped my mouth shut. Why did I always feel the need to justify myself to her?
Mum’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why would he be interested in you?’
I froze. Some part of my brain was telling me I should feel slighted and insulted by her question. But mostly all I felt was numb.
My mind raced for an answer, but I felt like I was swimming against the current, where my ability to think was drowned out by one terrifying realisation. Mum was right. Mum was always right. What would Adam see in me?
‘Well, it’s not as though you’ll have anything in common,’ Mum continued, giving weight to her question.
‘We have lots in common.’ I grabbed hold of the lifeline she had inadvertently thrown me, and felt a tiny glimmer of satisfaction. ‘We talked about music, books and—’
‘A shared appreciation of music is hardly enough for the foundations of a lasting relationship.’
I shook my head, refusing to let her dismiss the connection I’d felt to Adam. ‘It doesn’t need to be. It’s just a date. We’ll get to know one another better then.’
She stared at me, her left eyebrow arched upwards.
‘It’s just a date,’ I repeated. But I could hear the wobble in my voice.
‘You know you don’t attract the right sort of men. You’re too gullible. It always ends badly.’
My earlier happy glow had been doused by reality. Mum was right again. I was a magnet for disastrous relationships. The guys always seemed okay at the start. Nice, normal guys and then… I stirred the tomatoes with more force than necessary.
Maybe it wasn’t their fault. Maybe it was me. Could something about me drive them to it? Did I change them?
I flinched as the tomatoes spat at me, burning my hand.
‘So when is this date?’
‘Friday night.’ I glanced at the clock hung over the kitchen door. Just over forty-eight hours to go. The tick-tick of the seconds passing filled the silence. The countdown had begun.
I swallowed. There was still time. I could call him and cancel. He’d probably be grateful.
‘I suppose you won’t be home for your dinner on Friday, then?’
Home.
It had been years since I had lived here, but somehow this was still classed as home. Mum was in denial that I had ever left, but then perhaps I hadn’t really. At least not properly. I seemed to spend more time here than I did in my own apartment.
I added the spaghetti to the pan of boiling water. What if I didn’t cancel? It would be nice to have a meal cooked for me for a change. It wasn’t as though anything was likely to come of it, but it would be an evening out.
‘Well, will you?’ Mum asked.
I gave the tomato sauce another stir. ‘No.’ I smiled at the certainty in my voice. ‘I won’t be here on Friday.’
3
Now
‘They were very happy together,’ Mum said. ‘They had a very close relationship.’ She glanced sideways at me and I knew what was coming. ‘If anything, it was too close.’
The police office arched his eyebrow. ‘How so?’
I gazed out of the window, watching the mist settle over Old Harry Rocks in the distance. A squawk caught my attention as seagulls circled over the waves crashing beneath them. Is this how it felt to them? To look down on the world below them, observing, but not participating?
‘They were inseparable. Jessica always did whatever he wanted, went wherever he wanted. Of course, she was too preoccupied with him to bother about spending time with her own mother.’
‘That’s not true.’ Indignance surged through me as my attention jolted back to focus on Mum. I’d still spent time with her. Not as much as I used to, but things were different. I’d had a boyfriend. I’d had… a life.
I slumped back against Mum’s sofa, as I realised just how much I had lost. Not just Adam, but our life together. A life with someone by my side. A life where I wasn’t alone.
Mum rolled her eyes at me and patted my hand. ‘You were obsessed with him, dear.’ She turned back to the police officer. ‘She was totally devoted to him. I don’t know how she’ll survive without him.’
The police officer’s gaze burned into me. He was weighing me up; judging me against Mum’s description. Did I seem like the broken-hearted girlfriend who couldn’t survive without the love of her life?
I squirmed in my seat. Possibly not.
I was sad. Of course I was sad. At one point I’d begun to think we might have a future together. But I learnt a long time ago that people always let me down. Adam was no exception. He’d just been a little harder to let go of.
We’d had so much potential at first. I’d truly thought that he was different, he was special.
