42

  Without thinking, I pushed myself up from the chair. I winced as a searing pain scorched through my abdomen. I lifted my sweatshirt to check the dressing. Blood seeped through the gauze from the stapled wound.

  I was supposed to remain on hospital bedrest for the first forty-eight hours for observation. The fear was a complication from the stab wound, such as an internal infection. However, Jacob’s condition took precedence over any concerns over my abdominal injury. The nurses had finally acquiesced to my demand to be allowed to be with him given his critical condition.

  The door opened.

  ‘Claudia…’ Ava stopped and stared at me, shocked.

  But it was Ava whose appearance took me aback. She looked as dreadful as I felt.

  Tears started to cascade down Ava’s pale skin as she looked from me to Jacob’s unresponsive body. ‘Oh, Claudia… I am so sorry,’ she whispered.

  I felt as if I was going to pass out. I stepped backwards and gently lowered my body back into the chair, slowly breathing through the pain.

  ‘Claudia?’

  I turned to look at her.

  She still was hesitating by the door. ‘Can I join you?’

  I nodded and looked away.

  Ava crept over, as if she was frightened her presence would wake Jacob.

  I felt her sit down next to me.

  ‘How?’ I found myself asking, unable to bring myself to look at her. For I knew she was crying, as was I. ‘How could you do that to her? To Rebecca Spencer?’

  ‘I… I didn’t. Lottie forced Rebecca to do it,’ she whispered. ‘We… We didn’t know how to stop her. It was supposed to be a prank, but it all got out of control. Lottie just pushed her and pushed until—’

  ‘Rebecca Spencer was desperate to fit in, Ava. She would have done anything to fit in. And she did.’ I sighed.

  ‘God, don’t you think I know that? I have gone over that night, again and again, wishing we had never followed Lottie there,’ Ava quietly shared. ‘Claudia… it was horrific. Lottie wouldn’t listen to us. We begged her to stop. That she was going too far. But she wouldn’t stop. Not until Rebecca had… had cut herself.’

  I heard her give out a strangled sob.

  I knew Lottie Hambleton was someone who no one dared say no to.

  We both sat in silence, each caught up in our own misery.

  ‘Why didn’t any of you tell me what happened that night?’ I finally questioned.

  ‘We were going to tell you the night Willow was knocked down,’ Ava answered.

  ‘I mean when it happened.’

  ‘You were in hospital,’ Ava pointed out.

  ‘Afterwards?’

  Ava sighed. ‘When Lottie had that terrible accident, we swore we would never talk about it again. Ever. So, we didn’t. Not one of us spoke about it until…’ Ava stopped.

  ‘The letter arrived?’ I questioned, turning to her.

  She uneasily nodded.

  ‘Why did you tell Jaz you thought I had written it?’

  ‘The handwriting looked like yours—’

  ‘And you believed I would want to hurt Jaz like that?’

  ‘No… Of course not… But…’ Ava looked unsure as to whether she should say it.

  ‘But what?’ I demanded. ‘Because the handwriting looked like mine, so you both decided I had to have sent it. How could you even think I would write something like that?’

  Ava shook her head. ‘Remember that terrible argument between you and Jaz when we were on holiday in Italy? The one where she didn’t talk to you for days. You argued that she should come out to her parents instead of pretending to be someone she wasn’t for fear of upsetting them. You said you would never return to her parents’ home until she told them the truth.’

  ‘What?’ I spluttered, incredulous. ‘Christ! That was… when? Twelve years back when we were all still at uni. You know I apologised to Jaz. I explained that I was being naïve and simply wanted the best life for her.’

  I shook my head as I stared at Ava. ‘So, the two of you believed I wrote that letter outing her to her parents because of one drunken, silly argument when we were in our early twenties?’

  ‘It was more than just an argument, Claudia. It very nearly ended your friendship.’

  I was stunned by this revelation. I hadn’t taken the disagreement as seriously as Jaz. But then again, it wasn’t my sexual identity or the relationship with my parents at stake. I recalled it began over an offensive homophobic comment her father had made when I had been holidaying with Jaz and her parents, shortly before we flew to Italy to join Ava, Issie and Willow. Jaz quickly silenced me when she realised I was about to challenge her father’s statement.

  ‘And because of something years ago, the two of you found me guilty without even asking me first?’

  Ava didn’t say anything. Not that she needed to, as it was evident that was what they had done. I had always suspected that Ava had been jealous of how close Jaz and I were, but I would never have believed she would try and turn Jaz against me.

  And for Jaz to believe that of me…

  I could feel the tears threatening to fall.

  ‘And your letter?’ I questioned, unable to disguise the hurt in my voice.

  ‘The handwriting was identical. And… there were details in there that only the five of us knew about me.’

  ‘You mean you and Oliver?’

  Ava dropped her gaze. ‘I’m sorry, Claudia…’

  ‘I would never hurt or threaten you. What made you believe I would do that?’

  She shrugged as more tears fell. ‘Stupidity? You and Jacob were the perfect couple and… I don’t know. Guilt combined with jealousy maybe. You had it all.’

  I waited.

  ‘And… I… I hit on Jacob way back in the day, and I know you knew. I… I assumed you had held on to it, and when you found out that Oliver was married with a baby, you decided to take the moral high ground. Maybe it was easier to blame you than think of the alternative, which was that it was Rebecca Spencer. We were all terrified that what happened that night would come back to haunt us. That she would find us and reveal what we had never spoken about since Lottie’s death. I’m so…’ She faltered. ‘I’m so sorry. I should never have treated you the way I did after Jaz’s death. Deep down, I knew you hadn’t written those letters. But the alternative was just unthinkable.’

  I shakily breathed out. Her honesty took me by surprise. I realised then that I was as guilty as Ava of prejudging someone I loved – Jacob.

  Of thinking the worst of him rather than the best: for I had accused Jacob of sleeping with another woman and then used his suspected infidelity as a licence to cheat on him.

  ‘I wish you’d told me, Ava.’

  ‘So do I,’ she replied, her voice filled with regret.

  ‘At Jaz’s funeral, I thought I had done something terrible to have upset you and Jaz. I spent all this time beating myself up when, in fact, the four of you had kept this horrific secret from me for twenty-two years.’

  My body was trembling. I slowly breathed out in a bid to slow my heart rate down. More tears slid down my cheeks. I swiped at them with the heel of my hand. I wanted to rage at Ava. If they had told me what they had done to Rebecca Spencer, I might never have ended up here with my husband fighting for his life. But I couldn’t get the words out.

  I looked at her. I could see the pain in her eyes. The regret and the loss.

  ‘Claudia, I am so, so sorry. If I could undo it all, I would.’

  I nodded as tears spilled down my cheeks. ‘I know. I know you would. And so would I,’ I found myself whispering.

  Ava leaned in and hugged me. ‘Are we okay?’ she mumbled into my hair.

  ‘We will be,’ I answered. ‘In time.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  Then I heard a low moan. Jacob?

  Ava released me as we turned to look at him.

  Shocked, I watched, not daring to believe what I was witnessing. His eyelids were fluttering.

  I grabbed his hand. ‘Jacob?’ I cried out. ‘Jacob, I’m here.’

  I then felt his hand gently squeeze mine.

  I frantically turned to Ava. ‘Get help!’

  I turned back to Jacob to be certain it wasn’t my imagination. His eyes were trying to focus on me as his lips started to silently move.

  I realised he was trying to say my name.

  ‘I’m here, Jacob. I’m here with you,’ I reassured him as I leaned in close to his face.

  He tried to move his head. ‘Argh!’ he moaned.

  ‘Don’t move. Please,’ I urged him. ‘The doctors will be here in a minute.’

  I watched as he tried to focus again. He then tried to swallow but winced in pain.

  I picked up the glass with the straw on his bedside cabinet and filled it with water. I put the straw to his dry lips. ‘Here. This will help,’ I said.

  I held it there while he took a drink.

  He nodded to let me know he had enough.

  ‘Claudia?’ he hoarsely murmured as I replaced the glass on the cabinet.

  ‘I’m here,’ I answered, leaning over his face again. ‘I’m here.’

  ‘You’re crying,’ he whispered.

  ‘I’m just happy,’ I explained.

  He then frowned as his dark eyes filled with apprehension. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘She can’t hurt us any more,’ I gently assured him.

  ‘I thought she was going to make you—’

  ‘Shh…’ I soothed. ‘It’s over.’

  ‘I had no idea. She was Bex, the woman who… who I helped…’ He hesitated, confused.

  I nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘But you texted me to meet you there?’ he questioned, baffled. ‘How did she know?’

  ‘Bex, as you knew her, was actually Riley, my lodger. She stole my laptop and texted you from it pretending to be me. She then texted me from your phone to meet you at the clock tower after she had attacked you.’

  ‘Oh…’ he mumbled as he absorbed this news. A few beats later, he murmured, ‘Are you all right?’

  I smiled at him as tears rolled down my cheeks. ‘I’m fine,’ I whispered as my lips softly brushed his clammy skin. ‘I wanted to tell you, that I was…’ I hesitated.

  He stared up at me with dark eyes filled with apprehension.

  ‘I mean, I still am. I’m pregnant,’ I added.

  His eyes lit up. ‘So it’s real?’ he questioned in amazement. ‘But… we tried for so long?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘She didn’t hurt you, did she? Or the baby?’ he asked, unable to hide the terror in his voice.

  ‘No.’ I instinctively touched the dressing on my abdomen. The knife that Riley had plunged into me in an attempt to end my pregnancy had just missed my uterus. I had seen the ultrasound scan and the trace of the tiniest heartbeat imaginable, which confirmed the foetus was viable. I was still pregnant, and Jacob was alive despite Riley Harrison’s intentions.

  I didn’t want to think about what she had taken from me. Or what others – in particular my friends – had taken from her. I couldn’t go there. Not yet. I needed time to process everything that had happened before attempting to understand Rebecca Spencer, aka Riley Harrison. Maybe I would never make sense of it. But then, I hadn’t witnessed my father attempt to murder my mother at the age of seven or participated in a horrific initiation ceremony at my school in an attempt to be accepted by my peers when I was eleven.

  My mother’s rejection of me as a child, and my father’s complicity was profoundly damaging, but I was still privileged. I hadn’t suffered the physical or mental trauma that Riley had endured. Nor had I been targeted or bullied by my peers. So much so, that I tried to end my life. And even then, our headmistress who should have protected Rebecca Spencer failed her. She was expelled from the school as if she were the problem, not the victim of a horrific initiation ceremony. One that should never have been allowed to happen. After her removal from the school, it was as if Rebecca Spencer had never existed. No one talked about her, in particular, Jaz, Ava, Issie and Willow. And now I knew why.

  But your so-called friends did this to her! Your friends, Claudia! Including Jaz – your best friend. They hid it from you. How? How could you have not known?

  But I hadn’t known.

  And if you had, what would you have done?

  The question tore through me. Would I have protected them? Or would I have reported them at the expense of losing their friendships?

  But I knew that I would have stopped the initiation ceremony.

  Would you?

  I swallowed back the fear that question elicited.

  ‘Hey,’ Jacob said. ‘you’re still crying.’

  I wiped at my tears. ‘I’m relieved. That’s all,’ I reassured him.

  He gave out a low exhale as he sank back into the pillows.

  ‘I love you,’ he murmured.

  ‘I love you,’ I whispered.

  More tears glided down my face at the acknowledgement that Jacob was going to be all right.

  But what about Rebecca Spencer? What about what they did to her? And the consequences of that horrific night… How do you live with that?

  43

  TWELVE MONTHS LATER

  I looked up at Jacob and smiled. My heart ached with joy seeing him holding our daughter.

  I reached out and tickled her feet, dangling from the front-facing khaki Ergobaby carrier attached to Jacob. I laughed in response as she kicked and gurgled in delight. The love I felt for both of them threatened at times to destroy me, for I had so much to lose. I reached out for Jacob’s hand and held it, needing the reassurance of his touch that this wasn’t a dream.

  We walked in appreciative silence along the River Frome in Snuff Mills: a wooded park with beautiful walking paths and a community garden – one of our favourite haunts in Bristol. It was the end of May and unseasonably hot. I marvelled at the vibrant, buzzing nature around us, so alive, so filled with the promise of new beginnings. As were we. The three of us had everything we needed and more – so much more.

  Jasmine was born four months ago, almost a year after Jaz’s death – murder. We both knew when she was born that her name had to be Jasmine. There was no question. And she was Jacob’s double, with her big dark, deep brown eyes and dark hair. The paternity test, which I insisted upon after she was born, ruled out any unspoken doubts on his part. Or mine.

  Jasmine wasn’t the only radical change in our lives. We’d moved to St Andrew’s in Bristol at the end of last year, buying a fabulous five-bedroomed property with a first-floor veranda on Maurice Road overlooking St Andrew’s Park. It was an old, rambling Victorian property, retaining most of its original features and a large back garden, offering us the space we had craved when we had lived in our cosy two-bedroomed house in Kew. Issie’s estate had been left to me, as she had no surviving family, and so, with the sale of Kew and Issie’s estate, we were in a fortunate position to afford the substantial property in St Andrew’s.

  It was also a fresh start, away from the memories of Riley Harrison and everything – everyone – I had lost.

  And we both loved Bristol. It had a unique magical vibe, and we agreed it was the perfect place to bring up our daughter. Jacob had transferred to Bristol Royal Hospital for Children, one of the leading centres in the UK for children diagnosed with cardiac disease, and I’d secured a post as an associate professor in American literature at Bristol University. My parents shocked us by deciding to move back to the UK when my father retired from the British Embassy in Tokyo at the beginning of the year. My mother, who had always been distant and aloof with me, surprised me with her adoration of Jasmine. Rather than resent my parents’ sudden change of heart, I chose to celebrate that Jasmine would have everything I lacked growing up.

  As for Willow, she was still recovering. It had been a slow, painful process, but she was a fighter, as I had often reassured Charles during the darkest hours of her recovery. They chose to remain in London, where Willow had bought an art gallery. Her opening exhibition this summer was a tribute to Issie’s life, her eclectic paintings and sculptures on display. Willow and Charles were also getting married this summer.

  Ava had promised she wouldn’t miss their wedding or the opening exhibition. She had relocated to her firm’s practice in LA, wanting to put as much distance as physically possible between her and the horror of what had happened to all of us. LA suited Ava. She was thriving out there. Jacob, Jasmine and I were flying out to spend time with her in a few weeks. I wanted her to experience Jasmine while she was still a baby, even though we regularly FaceTimed, and messaged; the same with Willow. The three of us were acutely aware of how precious and arbitrary life could be.

  ‘Did you feed Darcy and Jasper before we left?’ I suddenly asked.

  Jacob nodded. ‘Yes, the boys had breakfast. Not that those two need feeding. You do know they’re both obese, right?’ Jacob teased.

  ‘Happy is what they are!’ I pointed out, smiling.

  Zain had been right. Cats do sometimes show up months later. Darcy had returned, half-starved and bedraggled, days before we moved to Bristol. He had somehow found his way back to us. I didn’t let myself think about what would have happened if he found his way back home and we had gone: it wasn’t worth the pain.

  I chose to celebrate the good in life and never talked about the darkness of the past: about what happened to us.

  Or what could have happened to us – to my unborn baby. To Jacob.

  I understood now why my four school friends chose a pact of silence after that night in the clock tower with Rebecca Spencer and Lottie Hambleton. When something was so dark, so monstrous, why would you speak about it?

  I would never understand why Jaz, Issie, Willow and Ava took part in such a heinous act, an initiation that destroyed Rebecca Spencer’s life and others. Willow and Ava had tried to explain that they feared Lottie, as we all did back then, but surely, one of them, could have stopped it.

  Could they, Claudia? Could you have stopped the madness that night?

  I shakily breathed out. I still wasn’t sure. It was easier to imagine you would do the right thing, but in the moment, who knows?

 

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