“A poorly thought-out way?” Danny makes an incredulous noise in his throat. “You dropped a stone on her head. You tried to set her on fire.”
When Vera looks at him, she ignores his words entirely, and if anything, her expression is wistful.
“My Summerbourne summerborns,” she says, and she smiles. “You know, I was sure at first that Seraphine must be Ruth’s baby—she was out there with Ruth on the cliffs when I got there. And I was frightened when Ruth said she’d done something terrible, that maybe she’d stolen you, Danny. Froma stranger, from the travelers, I didn’t know. I listened to the news every night for months, waiting for a kidnap story, waiting for the police to swoop and seize you.”
Danny shudders. I glance at Edwin again, wondering if we should tell Vera the truth right now, but I want to hear what she has to say first. My new knowledge of our identities is painful, but my uncertainty over Vera’s guilt or innocence feels like a heavier burden in this stuffy little room.
“You were so tiny and weak, at first,” Vera tells Danny. “I worried, about who you were, where you’d come from. But then—as you grew, I changed my mind. You looked so much like Edwin and Theo, it was obvious you were their brother. I relaxed, began to forget. And you, Seraphine—”
When Vera turns her gaze to me, her smile broadens, and I’m shocked to feel tears rolling from my lashes.
“You reminded me so much of Ruth at times,” she says. “So I made myself forget. I was desperate to forget all those doubts I had at the beginning. Of course you were both our children.”
Danny clears his throat next to me. “Tell us what happened with Dad.”
Vera nods. “We did argue that morning. It’s true. I didn’t want to say after the accident, because I realized... how it might look. It seemed unnecessary.” She sighs. “Dominic told me there was something he wanted to tell us all—before I made a decision about Summerbourne.”
She glances at Martin, and I am gripped by a sudden cold suspicion that she’s calculating exactly how much of the conversation Ralph might have overheard.
“Dominic mentioned Laura’s name,” she says. “I was—worried. I may have raised my voice a little—but only because I wanted him to tell me straightaway, and he insisted on waiting until we were all together. That’s what Ralph must have heard—the silly boy parked up by Michael’s cottage, so we didn’t hear him coming.”
“And then?” Danny says.
“I felt bad immediately, of course. As soon as I’d sent Ralph away, I apologized to Dominic. And then, we discussed party plans for the weekend. The argument was forgotten.”
Edwin frowns. “And what did you think Dad’s announcement was going to be?”
Vera’s gaze slides to me.
“You thought he was going to tell us I was Laura’s daughter,” I say. “Didn’t you?”
In the seat next to me, Danny hangs his head.
Vera takes a deep breath and appears to reach a decision. “I have to admit, I used to wonder—Ruth said someone was coming for her baby, and Danny looked so much like Edwin... And your coloring is similar to Laura’s, Seraphine, and tall, long-bodied women like Laura can sometimes hide their pregnancies. I thought perhaps Ruth agreed to take you on, but Laura’s boyfriend, whoever he was, was coming to claim you for himself.”
My heart knocks erratically. Which of us is going to tell her the truth?
Vera blinks at me. “But it didn’t matter. And Laura had the good sense to stay well away from Summerbourne—until now. Untilyoutracked her down.”
The events of the past couple of weeks jostle in my mind, and I think of the wadded shreds of paper I pulled from that smelly park trash bin.
“The letter,” I say.
Edwin and Danny both look at me. Vera inhales sharply through her nose.
“You wrote that to Laura, didn’t you?” I stare at her, andeven now I don’t want to believe it. I want her to laugh, to explain, to say we’ll get this all sorted out, don’t worry. I dig my nails into my palms. “You took her address out of my handbag, and wrote her that letter, threatening her daughter. You meant me, didn’t you?”
Vera twists her rings, and then stops. “I panicked,” she says eventually. “I wanted to make sure she didn’t talk to you. She tried to tell me something that day, about you two, after Ruth fell, and I—I wouldn’t listen. But when you said you’d tracked her down, I tried to work out—what was she most likely to say? And I thought—your hair, your skin tone, Seraphine—perhaps you really were her daughter. I’m so sorry. I was trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” I shove my chair back as I stand.
Vera begins to rise too, but at a gesture from Martin, she sinks back onto her seat.
“Yes,” she says.
“You wrote that message on the mirror.” Edwin and Danny both turn in their seats to stare at me, bemused. “You burned that word into the grass...”
“Your father...” Vera says, then checks herself. She is no longer looking at any of us. “Dominic was fine when I left him. We parted on good terms. I decided to take in the view along the cliffs before heading back to London. I rang Ralph from the boatyard, and he gave me a lift back to the station.”
