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“Maybe. But there are things that a girl never tells her father, no matter how much she loves him.”

Dane looked up sharply. “She's twelve.”

“And probably has a new boyfriend every week. I know I did at that age.” She paused, studying her nails. “Just so long as she doesn't see me as a threat.”

He straightened. Surely, she hadn't overheard the conversation he'd had with Jodie. “What do you mean?”

“I moved in. She probably sees me as taking her mum's place.” She paused, tilting her head a little. “I overheard some of what she said. Well actually, it was difficult not to. But that is how any child would see it.”

“You're her nanny. Not her stepmother.”

“Probably just as well, as all stepmothers have horns and a pitchfork, don't they?”

Dane rolled his eyes. “As do I, right now.”

Amy looked at him critically, her gaze running slow enough over his body to cause a burst of heat to flood him. He shifted in his chair. Finally her gaze returned to his face.

She tilted her head. “Can't see any, but then you're not yelling at me. Not so far, anyway.” She winked. “Jodie simply doesn't see the distinction between the two yet. What do you usually do about food shopping?”

“Usually I do it at the weekends with the kids in tow.”

“I can do it, if you want. I'll have time while they're at school.”

“You don't drive.”

“One of the supermarket's in the precinct delivers free if you spend over twenty five quid—we had one like that back home which I used a lot. I can shop on the way home from school first thing.” There was a long pause, and she looked down at her hands again. “If you want, it was just a thought. I don't want to overstep my place.”

Dane peered at her over his glasses. Why the sudden change in her? She hadn't held back while talking about the kids, but suddenly her whole demeanor altered. “That would be good, thank you. I'll leave you some housekeeping. Also that way if the girls need anything, you can just go ahead and buy it.”

Amy nodded. “I'm also happy to take them clothes shopping.”

Relief filled him. “That would be wonderful. Although, that's another potential minefield where Jodie's concerned.”

She tucked her hair back behind her ears. “I'm a pretty good negotiator.”

Dane turned back to the laptop, working on the contract, while Amy flicked through the TV channels with the remote. He was struggling to phrase this and debated searching on line for ideas. Then he decided to just put in writing what they'd spoken about. Half an hour later he had something he was happy with and printed it off. “Here you go.”

Amy took it and read it carefully. Then she signed it and handed it back. “It's fine.”

“I figured a week's notice either way seemed fair for now.”

“Yeah.” She yawned. “Think I'll turn in. It's been a long day. What time do they need to be up?”

“I'll wake them before I leave, but I need to be gone by eight. Again that varies each day. Jodie needs to be in school by eight twenty-five for the first bell, and Vicky by eight forty-five.”

“No problem. Good night.”

“Night.” Dane let out a deep breath as she shut the door behind her. He reached for the TV remote. He'd catch the second half of the Rangers game before going up to bed himself.

It was so strange having a woman in the house again. He shoved to one side the insistent voice telling him he was betraying Jas. He wasn't.

Nate was right. Amy
was
very pretty, but she was his daughters' nanny not their governess. And he was definitely no Mr. Rochester.

 

 

 

 

 

4

 

Amy woke with a jump, convinced there was someone leaning over the bed. Her heart thudded against her chest wall, wanting to leap free of the constraints holding it. The door must be open, for a shaft of light shone in from the landing, slicing across the darkness of the room. It had been closed. There was no way she'd sleep with it open, not in a strange house at any rate. Reaching out, she flicked on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft pink light.

She turned over and gasped. There
was
someone there. She wasn't paranoid after all.

Vicky stood beside the bed, her dark hair stuck to her head, her long white nightie emphasizing the paleness of her skin.

“Vicky, are you all right?”

Of course she wouldn't get an answer, but this time the child didn't even acknowledge her or move her head in response. Instead, her eyes stared at Amy; a hollow gaze that looked right through her. It was most unnerving to say the least.

“Vicky?”

Amy threw back the covers and sat. The only obvious explanation was that the child was sleepwalking. “Let's get you back to bed. It's chilly tonight.” She stood and put a gentle hand on Vicky's shoulder, leading her, via the bathroom, back to her room.

Vicky got into bed, and Amy tucked her in. The child continued to stare for a moment longer, then closed her eyes and relaxed into the pillow.

Amy stood there for a few moments, to make sure Vicky was OK. Did Dane know about the sleepwalking? What really bothered the little girl? Maybe the teacher was onto something with the drawing. Could this be why she'd been led here to the seventh stop on the seventh train, to a town she'd never heard of? To help.

She returned to her room and closed the door. Getting back into bed, she turned out the light. Of course, she had enough of her own demons to fight and keep her from a decent night's sleep. She didn't want to close her eyes, afraid she'd see the accident again. It was amazing how a very simple, but very wrong choice could mess up your life and turn it in a totally different direction. Despite the fact she was running from someone who wanted her dead, perhaps for now at least, she was safe.

Until Dane found out the truth and fired her.

A pang of regret flooded her. How had Rosalie and Ray taken the news of her “death”? The tides around Filely were notorious, and it wasn't uncommon for bodies washed out to sea to never be recovered. She just hoped they didn't waste too many man hours searching for her. She needed to look online tomorrow and check. Something else to add to her growing to-do list.

But now, the only thing she could do to help Vicky was pray. And that she could do.

 



 

Amy sat on a kitchen stool, watching Dane fuss around the girls. Anyone would think he'd never left them before. Well, technically he hadn't, at least not with her. She shot him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “They'll be fine. And so will I.”

“Are you sure? I can ring in, take the day off.”

“And do what?” she asked, keeping her tone light. “Watch me Hoover? The girls will be at school until three fifteen or so. Then it's only a couple of hours until you get back.”

“OK.” He took a deep breath. “I'll cook when I get in.”

“OK.”

Dane pulled out his keys and slid one off the ring. “I meant to give you this yesterday. It's the front door key.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and kissed the girls' foreheads. “Be good. See you tonight.”

“Bye, Dad,” Jodie answered as he headed out. Then she looked at Amy and pushed the bowl away. “Not hungry.”

“That's fine.” Amy grimaced as she swallowed the unsweetened coffee.

“You're not going to make me eat?” Jodie sounded surprised.

“I can feed you like a baby if you want, but it won't help. You'll be hungry by lunch if you don't eat, but that's up to you.”

“Oh.” Jodie's eyes widened. “Dad yells at me until I eat all of it.”

“I'm not your dad. But I can yell if you want.” She winked as Jodie shook her head. “Now, if you don't like that, then I can pick up something else for breakfast on my way home from school. Personally, if I eat breakfast, then it's muesli.”

“Yuk. That's rabbit food.” Jodie pulled a face.

Amy was amused to see the look mirrored on Vicky's face. “I thought they ate salad. Anyway, given a choice what would you eat for breakfast? Crackers, a different cereal, toast, eggs, waffles, full English with black pudding…”

“What's black pudding?”

“Cooked dried blood.” Amy grinned. “My Dad loved it.”

Both girls scrunched up their noses.

Amy laughed. “OK, no black pudding.”

“Mum used to get honey loops. Dad won't buy them. He says they are too sweet and bad for us.”

“They can be if you eat nothing else besides. Would you eat them if I got them?”

“Yeah.”

“OK.” Amy looked at Vicky. “Do you like them?”

Jodie answered for her. “She likes toast with marmite and marmalade on.”

“At the same time? That sounds…”

“Disgusting?” Jodie nodded. “It's revolting, but yeah. Marmite first, then marmalade.”

“I was going to say interesting, but sure I can make that.” She looked at Vicky. “Would you rather that instead of cornflakes?”

Vicky pushed the bowl towards her.

Amy smiled and took it away. She put the toast on and glanced at Jodie's cold oatmeal. “That would taste better warmed up with syrup on it.”

“Syrup?”

“About a dessert spoonful I reckon. Or chocolate sauce.”

“Isn't that bad for your teeth?”

She tilted her head. “Only if you never clean them.” She held her hand out for the bowl. “So which is it to be?”

“Syrup.”

By eight fifteen, both girls had eaten, and Jodie had left for school without complaint. Amy didn't suppose it'd last, but it was a start. While Vicky went to get her bag and coat, Amy grabbed the notepad. Dane had left twenty pounds for any shopping she needed. Thinking quickly, she wrote cereal. Then she added sugar, as she really couldn't continue to drink tea or coffee without it, pop-up linen bins for the girls' rooms, and fruit.

Vicky came back into the room.

“You got everything?”

A slight nod came in response.

“Cool. Then let's go.”

 



 

Amy dropped Vicky off and then went straight to the library. She logged onto one of the computers and did a search for fake ID. Surprisingly, the search yielded hundreds of results. Prices ranged from ridiculously cheap to ludicrously expensive. Most sites wanted online payment, but there was one based in the UK, which took cash only. She printed off the application form and filled it in. Now all she needed was a passport photo which she could get from the photo booth on the other side of the library. The site promised the card would come within five to seven days, which should be plenty of time.

Photos done, she sealed the envelope and posted it. Amy pushed down the feelings of guilt. What else could she do?

If there was another way, Lord, I'd take it, but there isn't. This Saunders bloke wants me dead, and I can't go to the police. Right now, I'm here and hoping You led me here for a reason and that's to help this family. Is this You making some good come out of my breaking the law?

Having grocery shopped, she headed back to the house and deactivated the alarm. She put the shopping away and made tea. Half-way around the supermarket, she'd remembered what else she'd meant to do on line. She wanted to check for her name in the news. To see if anything had been said, and if so, what was happening. It wouldn't take long and Dane had said she could use his laptop. She'd do a mega-quick check, then delete her search history. Just in case.

She took the mug into the lounge and fired up the laptop. Sipping the tea, she looked at the main news. There was nothing on the national news pages and only a couple of paragraphs on the local news. The local paper had more information and her picture.

Her photo, detailing the accident and court case took up the top of the page. Then in less detail was the damage to her house and the fact everything had been left on the beach, sparking a full scale rescue. This had now been called off. She was missing, presumed dead. There were short quotes from Ray and Rosalie. A memorial service was being planned for a later date.

Missing, presumed dead.

Her stomach twisted. She hadn't expected it to hurt like this. It was what she wanted, what she'd intended, but it was all so very real now. For an instant, she had the crazy idea of turning up at the memorial.

After all, how many people got to go to their own funeral? But then common sense prevailed.

She finished her tea and stood. First order of business today was to tackle Jodie's room and get rid of the rubbish and dirty laundry. Then to work out how to use the washing machine and set it going on what was likely to be the first of several loads.

The room was worse than it appeared on first sight. It took the best part of three hours to bag up the rubbish and clothes from the floor and under the bed. She finished by hoovering and dusting and opening the windows to let in some fresh air.

There were four loads of washing from that room alone. Never mind doing the bedding as well.

Stopping for a quick bite to eat, Amy spent the time after lunch tidying Jodie's chest of drawers and folding and rearranging everything. Notes stuck on each drawer, told Jodie what went where, although she doubted half this stuff would actually fit anymore.

The clock in the hall struck three and Amy set off to collect Vicky from school. At first it felt weird standing in the playground with all the mothers, but no doubt she would get used to it in time and it would get easier. No one spoke to her; in fact it all seemed rather cliquey.

Vicky plodded over to her, her shoulders slumped and eyes downcast.

Amy smiled in greeting. “Hey, Vicky. Did you have a good day?”

She shook her head, scuffing her shoes on the ground.