Little White Lies (71 page)

The same driver who’d picked them up barely a week earlier was waiting for them. There was another man with them: a tall, lean man with a craggy, weather-beaten face. Detective Carducci. She took in the name numbly. It was Julian who did the talking. Nearly a year old, dark hair, dark eyes . . . he pulled out his wallet and handed the photo over across the seats that divided them. Rebecca looked away. She had to hold her hands, one on top of the other, to stop herself reaching over and tearing it from his hands. Maryam’s picture had no place being passed from father to detective in the back of a chauffeur-driven car. She swallowed and swallowed again. It seemed inconceivable that they were driving along the same route, rolling blue sea on one side, houses of unimaginable splendour on the other, a beautiful, early summer day just like the one they’d landed on . . . there was nothing in the landscape that even hinted at the terror lying within her, lying within them all. Julian still had hold of her; every now and then she felt a tremor pass through his fingers. She sat numbly beside him, speechless, as though paralysed. The car glided along smoothly, braking when necessary, picking up speed as they left the town behind, each of the four occupants lost in their own terrible, private fears.

TASH

The dread they brought with them blew into the house like one of those storms that came up off the ocean suddenly, mowing down everything in its path. She could feel it even before the car came to a juddering stop. Feet running across the pebbles, officers getting to their feet, the ‘crack!’ as the front door burst open and suddenly there they were. Rebecca and Julian.

Rebecca’s face was twisted, made ugly with dread. ‘Where
is
she? What have you done with my child?’ The words exploded like gunshot. Tash jumped to her feet.

‘No, no . . . it’s not . . . I was watching her, Rebecca, I swear . . . I don’t know what happened. They were all there, all of them. It was just for a moment, Rebecca, I swear. I just shut my eyes for a moment—’ Her teeth were chattering; she couldn’t get the words out fast enough. They were all looking at her with the same wild-eyed stare. A stare of accusation, of disbelief . . . of hate. She felt her stomach turn over.

‘Mrs Lovell, please.’ There were three law enforcement officers in the room – she’d forgotten their names already. The detective who’d accompanied the driver – Carducci? Carlucci? – quickly moved forwards, taking Rebecca by the arm. She shook it off angrily.

‘Don’t you
dare
try and squirm out of this one, Tash!’ she screamed. ‘This isn’t something you can buy your way out of! Where’s my
child?
’

Tash took a step backwards. Buy her way out of it? What was Rebecca saying? ‘I—’

‘Rebecca, darling, don’t say that. It’s probably just—’ Annick stepped in, putting an arm round Rebecca, who was almost bent double. Julian was looking from side to side, as if he couldn’t quite grasp what was going on. Rebecca shook off Annick’s arm in the same way she’d pushed aside the police officer.

‘Don’t you fucking tell me what to say! You’re just relieved it’s not your child! Go on,
admit it!
You’re all just
standing
there! Why don’t—’

‘Mrs Lovell,’ one of the female officers was more forceful. ‘Don’t. None of this is helpful. I need to ask you a few questions and—’

Tash stood by, open-mouthed with fear and shock. A sudden burst of static from a walkie-talkie shattered the air and then the officers all began to talk at once, that strange, surreal mixture of words and phrases familiar to her from American television shows –
AMBER alert
;
primary officers; securing the site; anything with her scent
– each bringing on a new wave of deeper, more terrifying fears. Everything seemed to happen at once. She watched one of the officers whisper to the other and then they both moved towards Rebecca, gripping her firmly by both arms. She struggled, of course, but they were not only stronger, they were professionals. Weeping uncontrollably, Rebecca was led out of the room. Outside she could hear more cars arriving and the sound of a hysterical Clea being questioned in the hallway. Betty Lowenstein was in the corner, her face as hard as stone. It was Betty who’d come upon her in the study and it was Betty who’d prized the glass of vodka out of her clenched hand. She’d said nothing; she didn’t need to.

‘It’s not my fault,’ Tash screamed suddenly, the pressure erupting in her chest. ‘It’s not my fault. Please, please believe me . . . it’s not my fault!’

No one spoke. No one even looked at her.

TARIQ MALOUF
Martha’s Vineyard

He looked at his watch. It was almost a quarter to three. Across from him, Maryam sat in a high chair that the friendly waitress had so kindly found for them. Father and daughter. His wife, he explained with a practised ease that astonished him, had taken the car with their other two children, leaving him alone with Maryam, their youngest. Her pushchair was in the boot; they’d forgotten to take it out.

‘Oh, no problem,’ she said, cheerfully empathetic in the way that only Americans can be.
No problem
. Two minutes later, she was back with the chair. ‘What would she like?’ she’d asked, gazing in open admiration at Maryam. ‘She’s a lot like you. Her mom must be really beautiful, too.’

He felt his throat constrict and it took him a few seconds to compose himself sufficiently to answer. ‘Mashed bananas. With cream, if you’ve got any.’ It was her older sister’s favourite and had been since she was the same age. The older sister Maryam would never see, never know. ‘And a black coffee for me.’

One look at her. That was what he’d promised himself. Just one glimpse. After that terrible day in Jerusalem where he’d forced himself to walk away – from Rebecca, Maryam, the affair, the Harburgs,
everything
– he’d tried to put her out of his mind and, for the most part, he’d succeeded. But then he’d seen an article about some society wedding or other in one of the magazines his wife devoured endlessly . . . and it all came flooding back. It took him a few seconds to recognise Rebecca in the photograph. She’d left dozens of messages, saying where they were going. It was a two-hour drive from his home in Connecticut. One glimpse, that was all. He wanted to be
sure
.

He found Tash Bryce-Brudenell’s home easily enough. All the while he was driving along Interstate 95, he thought about the madness of it all. What would he say if Julian saw him? He was deluding himself if he thought Julian wouldn’t recognise him. And then there was Rebecca to think about. What would she do? What would she say? What
could
she say? He shook his head as he drove, unable to find an answer that would satisfy anyone, least of all him. All he knew was the burning desperation to see this daughter of his once – just once. That was all.

He was parked halfway across the road, his car partially hidden by the man-made grassy knolls that stood in place of fences in this most upmarket of residential neighbourhoods. He saw the taxi bearing the two young girls pull out of the driveway, and the tall woman with the short blonde hair, whom he recognised as Tash Bryce-Brudenell, standing in the doorway, waving them off. His heart was hammering in his chest as he got out of the car and made his way down the lane that separated the two properties, hidden from each by the tall line of trees that were almost in full bloom. He could see the pool, its blue-green skin shimmering in the afternoon sun. He slipped behind the little white cabaña. It seemed a logical place to wait whilst he figured out what to do next.

And then events seemed to overtake him. He saw Tash come out to the pool with the children. Rebecca’s twins first. He recognised them straight away. They took after the father. Then a small, dark child, trailing possessively behind Tash, who was carrying a baby. He felt a tightness in his chest as he watched her put the baby down, tucking her carefully into the seat, making sure the sun was out of her face. Maryam’s face. He was too far away to see her clearly and it took almost all the self-control left to him not to simply walk out from around the small pool house, calmly introduce himself as the father of the child and walk off with her. He had no idea who else was in the house. One glimpse, that’s all, he kept telling himself. He just wanted to be
sure
. He saw Tash come out with a drink in her hand and then heard the twins ask her when Mummy and Daddy would be back. ‘On Monday, darling. Only another day to go.’ So Rebecca and Julian weren’t around? ‘Your mummy and daddy, too, Didi. They’re having a nice time together, just like we are, aren’t we?’ He saw the children shrug, completely unself-consciously, in the way only children can be. His heart lifted. Tash was clearly the only adult left in the house. He debated with himself for a moment whether to just go up and talk to her, but something held him back. He wanted to see Maryam first. Properly.

And then Tash fell asleep. She’d barely taken three or four sips of her drink before he saw the glass tilt dangerously towards the grass. She let go of it and it fell to the ground silently, spilling its contents immediately. He saw the boys look over at her uncertainly, then at Maryam, who seemed to be sleeping in her chair. They drew together for a few minutes; one, the slightly taller of the two, was clearly planning something. Exaggeratedly silent, they tiptoed away from the pool, heading for the house next door, leaving the sleeping adult and the sleeping child. He waited for a while – ten minutes, fifteen? He couldn’t tell. And then it all happened so fast. Tash suddenly woke up, whether jolted out of sleep by a noise or the absence of it, he couldn’t tell. She looked around her, focusing on the fact that the children were gone. She jumped up, grabbed her sarong and ran into the kitchen. A few seconds later, he saw her running wildly towards the beach. He didn’t stop to think. He moved forward out of the bushes and walked up to her. When he saw her, and she opened her eyes to focus on his, all rational thought deserted him.

And now here he was, sitting in a Denny’s somewhere in the middle of Edgartown with a baby, looking for all the world as if they belonged there, father and daughter, like all the others. Except they weren’t. The child was of his begetting, but she wasn’t his child.

It was time to take her back.

TASH/ANNICK/REBECCA

The door closed behind the detective sergeant and, for the first time since they’d arrived back at the house, Rebecca and Julian were alone. Rebecca was standing by the window watching the police fan out in a team, with their dogs straining at the lead. Their dark blue-and-white jackets with the letters MSP blazoned across the back could be seen all the way to the trees at the edge of the property. She couldn’t think straight. Her teeth were chattering. Rage was building up inside her, more powerful and insistent than any emotion she’d ever felt. Julian must have sensed it; he came to stand beside her but said nothing. All the way from New York he’d held some part of her – a hand, a wrist, her arm – as if to keep her from falling but now nothing could hold her up. Why had she agreed to it?
Why?
Tash wasn’t capable of looking after anyone, let alone four children. She was mad to have agreed to it! Everyone pretended they didn’t know about the drinking and the lapses of control but they all knew! Everyone knew. So why hadn’t anyone said anything? Was it the money? The fact that Tash had paid for everything, been so generous, wanting so badly to please? She’d practically shoved them out the door. ‘Go,
go
. . . I promise you, nothing’ll happen.’

Julian cleared his throat. He seemed about to say something when there was a tap at the door. They both spun round. Rebecca’s heart leapt into her chest. ‘Wh-who is it? Yes?’

The door opened slowly. It was Tash. For a long, dreadful moment they stared at each other. Tash’s face was completely ashen; she’d never seen her so pale. Her hair was sticking up and there were dark circles underneath her eyes. She’d been crying, of course. ‘Rebecca?’ she said haltingly, taking a step forward. Someone was standing behind her. It took Rebecca a second to work out that it was Annick. For reasons she didn’t care to examine, the sight of the two of them – one with her child safe, the other the cause of her terror – forced the rage right out of her stomach, pushing it upwards through her chest and neck until it exploded, flooding her mouth like saliva, blinding her with its ferocious intensity.

‘You . . . you
fucking bitch
!’ The words were torn from her throat, winding her. She felt Julian’s arm on hers, pulling her back but he could no more have stopped her than he could have stopped a storm. She saw Tash flinch, as though she’d been slapped. ‘How could you? I left my child with you, you . . .
you fucking drunk
! My
child
! All you had to do was keep her safe! You’ve got a fucking
army
of servants here who’ll do everything else . . . feed them, bathe them, all the things you can’t be bothered to do. Just keep her safe, that’s all!’ She felt the world slipping away from her. Julian was trying to grab hold of her flailing arms but she shook him off with a strength that surprised him. She lifted her arm and with all the force she could muster, she slapped Tash, once, twice, and the scream that came from her throat was unlike any sound she’d ever heard. Everyone jumped. She heard footsteps coming up the stairs, the deep baritone of the police officer who’d been on hand to meet them; Adam and Annick were in the doorway, Annick’s panicked face swinging wildly from her to Tash and back again. Yves and Adam both pushed past her, trying to reach Tash in the tangle of arms and palms. Tash was holding onto the doorjamb; her chest was rising and falling and there were two ugly red welts across her face. As hard as it was to believe, the sight only made Rebecca crazier with rage. She lifted her hand again but Adam caught it. At that moment, she was beyond herself. Blind fury had taken hold of her, shaking her in its fist like a leaf. ‘You’re just jealous, that’s what it is,’ she screamed.

‘Rebecca!’

‘Somebody get her out of here!’

‘Take that woman downstairs!’