‘You scared us to death!’ I call out with a laugh. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you were away this weekend. Did you decide not to go? Emma and I can leave if you want to stay here instead.’ I’m smiling, but it’s a bit much, showing up at this hour. She could surely have waited until the morning.
‘Who is that?’ Emma hisses.
‘My neighbour, Ruby,’ I explain in a low whisper. ‘The one who said we can stay here. Maybe she changed her mind. Or maybe there’s some kind of problem.’
Ruby has an odd smile on her face. She stops where she is and stares strangely at me and Emma. I notice her appearance is quite different to normal. Her face is make-up free and she’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt instead of one of her usual skimpy outfits. She seems somehow older.
Emma is nudging me in the ribs and pointing to the far side of the pool. ‘Is that…’ And then she cries, ‘Dad? Is that you?’
I whip my gaze over to where Emma is staring, shocked to see our father sitting on the edge of the pool with his legs dangling in the water. But stranger than that – he’s got something tied around his mouth. Some kind of… gag! And then my eyes drop to his lap, which seems to be covered in some dark, amorphous shape. It looks like a coiled iron chain.
‘Dad!’ I cry, and start to move towards him, Emma by my side.
‘Stay where you are!’ Ruby says firmly, walking quickly back towards him.
Emma and I hesitate, automatically heeding her words. Just as I decide to ignore Ruby’s instruction, she speaks again:
‘He’s chained to a concrete parasol base,’ she says. Even her voice sounds older. Her Bristol accent has completely disappeared and she sounds less scatty, less bubbly, less… Ruby. ‘His wrists and ankles are zip-tied. If either of you takes a step closer, I’ll wheel the base into the pool and poor old Daddy will be pulled in and dragged to the bottom. The chain’s locked around his waist. It’s shorter than the depth of the pool. So even if you do reach him before his lungs fill with water, you won’t be able to pull him out.’
Emma squeals.
I go rigid. Am I having a nightmare? The air is damp, and the faint scent of chlorine catches in the back of my throat. I don’t understand what’s going on. Why is Ruby here? Why does she have Dad chained up? Why is she threatening to hurt him? None of this makes any sense. Dad is staring at us, his eyes wide. He’s trying to speak, but the gag is doing its job of silencing him.
‘Emma,’ I whisper. ‘I think we’ve found our stalker.’
‘Who is she?’
‘Ruby. My neighbour.’
‘Yeah, but—’
‘Can you both please shut up!’ Ruby cries. ‘I can hear you. Your pathetic attempts to whisper aren’t working.’
I rack my brains to think what I could have done to offend my neighbour. Did I say something out of line? Did I snub her? Was I rude? Were Joe and I bad neighbours? I can’t think of a single thing. And why would any of that involve Emma? Or Dad?
‘Don’t worry,’ she drawls, tossing her hair back with a flick of her hand. ‘I’ll explain what’s going on. You don’t think I’d go to all this trouble without telling you what Daddy dearest has been up to.’
‘Was it you who sent us all those letters?’ Emma cries.
‘I’ll get to that. Didn’t I just tell you to shut your mouth?’
I gasp at Ruby’s vicious tone. Emma stiffens beside me but she does as Ruby asks and stops talking. The night air is cool after the storm. A few spatters of rain fall on my face, droplets from a nearby tree, blown down by the gusting wind. I wipe them away with my fingers and wrap my arms around my body to try to keep from shivering.
‘So,’ Ruby says. ‘Here’s what you need to know. My name is Ruby Davies and I’m from Bristol. I’m twenty-three years old.’
This isn’t new information to me. But I guess she might be saying this stuff for Emma’s benefit, and maybe Dad’s. Does Ruby really mean to harm him? Will she harm me and Emma? But there’s only one of her, and there are three of us. She’s not holding any kind of weapon, unless she has a knife or gun concealed in her waistband. If she makes a move to hurt Dad, I reckon I can dive in and try to save him. But how heavy is that chain? Would I be strong enough to pull him out of the water with the concrete parasol base and the chain? Maybe if both Emma and I dive in together. But what if Ruby tries to stop us? All these scenarios whirl around my brain as I try to concentrate on what she’s saying. How can this be real?
‘My mum, Sue, brought me up on her own.’ Ruby is speaking directly to me and Emma. She isn’t paying any attention to our father at this point. ‘She was a single mum and she had a hard time. We were always skint. She was always stressed about money and where we were going to live – one grotty flat after another. Always in dodgy areas with dodgy neighbours, blah, blah, blah. But who cares, right? There’s plenty of single mums out there with no support and no money. Anyway, me and Mum, we got on all right. We argued, you know, like families do, but I loved her, my mum. She was everything to me.
‘So, when she got cancer last year, I was gutted. She only took two months to die. Bam. That was it. Suddenly, no more Mum. I was on my own. No siblings, no aunts or uncles, no grandparents, cousins, whatever. Just me. Fine. That’s fine. I miss my mum, but I’ve always been tough. I can cope on my own. It helps that I look good. That men are drawn to me.’ She flicks her eyes across to Dad, licks her lips.
I’m getting a queasy feeling in my throat. I hope she isn’t implying that my dad has done anything inappropriate. He wouldn’t. He’s not like that. Not with a girl young enough to be his daughter.
‘So, you can imagine,’ Ruby continues, ‘that it came as a bit of a shock when I was going through Mum’s things and I found a letter from my dad – who I’d never met, by the way. Mum told me he died just before I was born.’ Ruby reaches into the back pocket of her jeans and pulls out what looks like a piece of folded paper. ‘Do you want me to read it to you?’
Nobody answers her. I think we’re too mesmerised by her story. Too stunned. But she doesn’t seem to need a response. Ruby unfolds the paper and clears her throat.
Dear Sue,
I got your note, and I’m sorry to hear your news. In another lifetime, I’d want us to be together. But you already know my situation. You know I have a wife and two young girls. I can’t leave them. So I’m really sorry, but I think it’s best if we don’t see each other any more. You shouldn’t let your predicament hold you back, so I really think you should have an abortion. It’s the best thing. Then you can forget me and make a new start. Find someone who deserves you. I’m enclosing some money in case there are any expenses, or in case you have to stop working while you have the procedure. I’m leaving Bristol, but I’ll never forget you and our time together.
Wishing you all the best.
Yours,
Tony
Forty-Four
I gasp. Emma clutches my arm so tightly it hurts.
Ruby stops talking, refolds the letter and slots it back in her pocket. Her voice was shaking near the end of the letter, yet she remains dry-eyed, her face colourless and unreadable under the security lighting.
I shift my gaze to look at Dad. He’s staring at Ruby, shaking his head, tears streaming down his face. I can hardly believe what Ruby has just read us. But it must be true to elicit such a reaction from Dad.
‘In case you didn’t “get it”,’ Ruby says, making air quotes, ‘Tony here is my biological father. Which means…’
‘… we’re your sisters,’ Emma finishes.
‘Surprise!’ Ruby says without enthusiasm. ‘I did some family history research and tracked him down on Facebook. I found you two first. Only I wasn’t sure you were related as you weren’t Facebook friends. But you both looked similar to each other, and to me. And the name fit. And you were both the daughters of Tony Beresford, who was originally from Bristol, but who moved with his family to Malmesbury just before I was born.
‘So, from having no family at al
l, I found out I had this whole other family. Only, you didn’t want me. You would rather I was dead and buried. You would rather I had never existed at all.’
‘That’s not true!’ I cry. ‘If we’d known you existed we would’ve—’
‘You would’ve what!’ she spits, putting her hands on her hips. ‘You would have welcomed me with open arms? I don’t think so. You’re both as bad as he is. You two had each other. You had everything. But you let some stupid fuckwit get between you. How can you let an idiot boyfriend ruin your family bond? You’re sisters. But you ignored each another for years. Neither of you deserves to have a sister. You don’t deserve your family. And Daddy doesn’t deserve you, either.’
She begins pacing up and down by the side of the pool. If only she were on this side, I could charge and push her in, buy us some time to free Dad and get out of here. Call the police.
‘So, yeah, I sent you the letters,’ she continues. ‘I thought, if a letter is good enough for dear old Tony Beresford to send to my mum, then letters will be good enough for his daughters. Letters, and a few other little additions to spice things up,’ she says with a smirk.
I shudder when I think back to my day in Bristol. Being pushed into the road. Seeing a flash of auburn hair – hair exactly like Emma’s. But it wasn’t Emma. It was Ruby. ‘You pushed me!’ I cry.
‘I did. I pushed you both. And you fell, and you cried and you whined and you were scared. And I was glad. Because I had years of being scared and pushed around. And Mum couldn’t protect me all the time. I wanted you to have a taste of what it was like. Of what your dad let me and Mum live through. He could have helped us out. He could have checked up to see how we were doing. But instead, he wrote his little letter and he ran away and left us to it.’ She stops pacing and turns to look at my dad. ‘Out of sight, out of mind, hey, Tones?
‘I was just a dirty little secret. Something to be ashamed of, while you two were Daddy’s pride and joy. His two precious little girls. Yeah, well, thanks a lot, Dad. Thanks for nothing.’
I don’t even know what to say to her revelation. Part of me can understand her anger. But the things she did… they’re not the actions of a sane person. And I have no idea what she intends to do right now. Is she capable of hurting Dad? Of carrying out her threat to try to drown him?
‘You know what gave me the most satisfaction out of all of this?’ she says. ‘Hurling the ashtray through Georgio’s window. That ashtray was the only thing of Dad’s that Mum owned. I treasured that piece of marble all my life. When I was a kid I used to stroke it. And I would think, my dad may be dead, but he touched this same piece of marble that I’m touching right now. And I thought by doing that I would be closer to him in heaven. How pathetic is that! Especially as he wasn’t in heaven, he was a few miles up the road in Malmesbury. And instead of a little kid stroking a filthy ashtray, I could have been stroking his cheek. So, yeah, it felt good to smash that sucker through the shop window.’
Her story is heartbreaking, and terrifying. She is a wild, unpredictable, angry creature. She’s been wronged, of that there’s no doubt. But this has to stop now.
‘Ruby,’ I say carefully, ‘I’m truly sorry. I honestly had no idea. And I wish you had been part of our lives. Dad made a terrible, terrible mistake. But now that we know… now that we know we have a sister… surely this can be a good thing. We can get to know one another. You can be part of our family.’
She looks down at the ground for a moment and then snaps her head back up. ‘I’ve seen enough of your family to know that I don’t want any part of it. You’re both a couple of stuck-up bitches. Your mum’s a clueless snob, and your dad is spineless. So thanks, but no thanks. I think I’m best off on my own.’ Her face is flushed now and she wipes away a loose lock of hair with a hand that’s shaking violently.
Her words are harsh, but she’s angry. And maybe I would be angry, too, if I’d had her upbringing. But whatever happened in her life, it doesn’t justify what she’s done to us, and what she’s doing to Dad. Yet I can’t deny that I’m shocked by my father’s history. He cheated on Mum. He has another daughter! But right now, I can’t dwell on that. He’s still my dad – and I need to help him.
‘What about Ian?’ I ask, trying to change the subject a little, trying to buy some more time so I can figure out what to do. ‘I take it you used our neighbour to get to me?’
‘Yeah,’ she says disinterestedly. ‘He was a small price to pay to be able to keep an eye on you. And you were oblivious, Lizzy. You bought my ditzy act, behaving like you were so much better than me. Patronising me and Ian like we were a couple of idiots.’
I shake my head. That’s not how I remember it. I didn’t patronise them, did I?
Emma takes a couple of tiny steps forward, and I shuffle up next to her. I get the feeling she’s about to do something, but I’m nervous. If she makes a sudden move, Ruby could hurt Dad, and I’m not convinced we could save him in time.
‘How did you know we’d come here?’ Emma asks.
Ruby gives a dry laugh. ‘You two were so easy to manipulate. First, I sent you the “wrongly addressed” letters to get you together. Then, once Joe was out of the picture, I sent Emma the fake text message to get you over to Lizzy’s house. I’d already sowed the seed of the holiday home in your mind, Lizzy, so I was ninety per cent sure you’d go for it.’
‘Did you really win a minibreak here?’ I ask.
‘You’re joking, aren’t you?’ She laughs. ‘I clean the place, that’s all. They don’t give away posh breaks to the likes of me. But I’m friends with the receptionist, and she let it slip that this house had a cancellation, so I thought it would be perfect for what I was planning.’
So we’re trespassing. We’ve been enjoying this house without anyone’s permission. And now I’m wondering what it is that Ruby’s actually got planned. Did she bring us here purely for dramatic effect, or does she really mean to hurt Dad? I know what he did was very wrong. Was awful. And she has every right to be furious. But I can’t let her harm him.
Emma and I inch forward a little further.
‘Anyway,’ Ruby says, walking over to the grey concrete parasol base next to Dad, ‘we can talk all night about this crap, but that’s not why we’re here.’
I break out into a sweat. My whole body tenses. I get the feeling I’m going to have to dive into that pool any minute.
‘No,’ Ruby says. ‘We’re here to watch Daddy dear get what he deserves.’
Dad’s eyes widen and he begins to struggle, but it’s no good. He’s tied too tightly and he’s weighed down by the enormous, thick chain across his lap.
Ruby bends down and pushes the parasol base, which rumbles and slides into the pool with a heavy plop. Mine and Emma’s screams drown out the hideous, slithering splashes as the chain unravels, pulled into the pool at an alarming speed.
‘Dad!’ Emma cries out.
I stagger to the edge of the pool, willing myself to stay strong, to not panic. I suck in a huge breath, preparing to dive. Preparing to pull my father out as soon as he’s yanked into the water by the slithering chain. Emma is by my side.
Any second now…
Forty-Five
Emma dives beneath the surface of the pool, and I’m just about to follow her when I hear Ruby cackling with laughter. The chain has disappeared into the pool but my father is still seated on the side, his legs dangling in the water, his face red, his eyes bright with shock.
What the hell?
Ruby mustn’t have chained him up properly. But she is still laughing, doubled over with her hands on her hips. ‘Oh my God! Your faces!’ she cries. ‘That was fucking hilarious.’
I step back from the edge as Emma surfaces, treading water, and spins around to face me, a look of confusion on her face. All I know is that Dad is safe. He’s not about to drown. And then I march around the pool towards Ruby. Any pity I felt for her has now been suffocated by a white-hot fury. My heart pounds and my face burns.
‘That was priceless!’ she says, still laughing. ‘You actually though I was going to kill him. Oh, I wish I’d videoed it.’
‘You mental bitch!’ I cry.
As I approach her, Ruby’s laughter peters out. ‘Come on. He deserved it. You all did. What’s one moment of fear compared to the lifetime of crap I’ve had to put up with? I’d say we’re not even close to being even.’
As I close in on Ruby, Emma is pulling herself up out of the pool by Dad’s side. With dripping fingers, she starts working his gag loose.
‘You’re mad,’ I say to Ruby through gritted teeth. ‘You need help. Serious help.’ I can’t bear to look at her smug face. Memories of the past few weeks’ stresses and fears scroll through my mind – a catalogue of terror. How could she have put me and Emma through all that? We had no clue about my father, or about who she really is, so why did she feel it necessary to punish us? But she doesn’t seem in the least bit remorseful. She actually believes that Emma and I deserved what she put us through.
All the anxiety, terror and anger rush to the surface and I charge the final few feet towards my half-sister. With all the force I can muster, I push her into the swimming pool. She topples sideways, her hands flailing out to try and stop herself falling, but it’s too late. A shove into a warm pool might not be much of a punishment, but it feels good. The water splashes up and over me, but I don’t care about that. I have to check on Dad, see if he’s okay. I’m mad at him, too, but I’m also worried about what this ordeal has done to him. Whether he might need medical help.
‘We need some scissors or a knife to cut him loose,’ Emma says, finally pulling down his gag so it hangs around his neck. She hugs our shivering father who’s breathing really heavily, his eyes wild and staring. His ankles are tied, his hands still bound behind his back.
‘Ruby,’ he gasps.
‘I know, Dad,’ I say, stroking his arm. ‘It’s okay. She can’t hurt you now.’
‘No,’ he cries, jerking his head forward. ‘Ruby!’