Page 42 of The Girlfriend’s Secret

‘What?’

‘I know you have been messaging Haven and warning her away from our family,’ I say. ‘It all came out tonight, so you don’t need to try and deny it.’

‘She thinks I hurt Grandma!’ Scott cries, incredulous.

‘I know she does, and I told her what a stupid belief that is,’ I say firmly. ‘Don’t worry, I kicked her out of my house for saying such a thing and, with any luck, she’s gone for good now.’

‘You kicked her out?’

‘Yes, after an accusation like that, of course I did,’ I reply. ‘I’m your mother and it’s my job to protect my children from anything. That includes awful accusations.’

‘You really think she’s gone?’ Scott asks me, sounding more like a worried little boy than the strong, dependable man I like to think he has grown into.

‘Only time will tell,’ I say with another sigh. ‘But if she has any sense, she’ll be long gone. Coming into my home and accusing my eldest child of murder. Who does she think she is? But one thing is for sure. If I ever see her again, she’ll find out what murder really looks like.’

TWENTY-EIGHT

HAVEN

If eavesdropping on private conversations was a skill, I could teach it. I’ve certainly had my fair share of experience over the years and, right now, I’m getting some more practice.

I’ve heard everything that has been said on the call between Liane and Scott, thanks to her putting her son on speakerphone.

It’s a call that is not over yet.

But it might as well be after what I just heard.

Did Liane really say the ‘m’ word? I’m sure she did and not only that, but she used it in reference to me. Murder. Okay, so she might not have been talking literally and only expressing her anger at me accusing her son of the same thing, but it was still a shocking thing to hear. If I had any doubts about Liane’s level of hatred towards me, they are well and truly resolved now. It’s obvious she never wants to see me again, and the same goes for Scott, who sounded anxious on the call, if such a thing can be detected over the phone.

I have been crouching at the top of the stairs, listening to what was being said below me, but Liane has ended the call now, telling her son to get some sleep, and I can only assume she is going to try and do the same. That means she is going to be coming upstairs very soon and that is a big problem because I’m already up here and will rapidly run out of places to hide if I have company.

But before I move, I think about how Liane didn’t ask Scott about the accusations I made against him. She didn’t once put the question to her son about whether anything I said was remotely true. She just blindly trusts him, presumably like any mother would, but that doesn’t help me very much. Because she didn’t ask Scott, he didn’t have to deny anything, but at least that might have made him sweat. As it is, he’s still getting away with what he has done, and I am increasingly convinced that a murder occurred on this staircase where I lurk now, and not an accident like everyone else assumes.

However, I have something more pressing to worry about at the moment.

Liane is leaving the kitchen.

I think she’s coming upstairs next.

I quickly but quietly move away from the staircase and retreat to the bedroom I was trying to sleep in earlier. I have to assume that Liane will visit the bathroom, so I can’t hide in there. I also have to hope that when it comes to picking a bedroom to spend the night in, she’ll opt for a bigger room than here. This house was her mother’s so she should be far more comfortable here than I am. But I’ll have to wait and see where she goes.

Once I’m back in the bedroom, I slowly lower myself to the carpet before crawling under the bed. It’s dusty under here and I have to stifle a sneeze, but I’m confident I can remain hidden as long as Liane doesn’t come in here and start snooping around. If she does, I’m screwed, but maybe I already am anyway.

I hear footsteps on the stairs and now I’m holding my breath, as if that extra thing will make any difference to whether or not I’m caught. I listen as Liane reaches the top of the stairs, and then I hear her flick a light switch.

Light filters through the half-open bedroom door, and next I hear a running tap. She is in the bathroom. But where will she go next?

The thought of her coming in here and getting onto the bed I’m hiding under is a terrifying one. Even if I could remain undetected beneath her, the proximity would surely be too much to handle and I’d end up making a noise that would give my position away. So I just have to hope that isn’t put to the test.

I listen as Liane does whatever she needs to do in the bathroom. The light goes off. Then I hear her footsteps crossing the hallway. I grit my teeth as I silently pray that she won’t pick this room to go into next.

Another light goes on then and I relax slightly when I realise that she has chosen a different bedroom. I think I’m safe. For now, at least. But the way I see it, I only have two options and neither of them is good. Either I stay hidden here all night and wait for Liane to leave tomorrow before I make my exit too. Or, I wait until Liane falls asleep and try and sneak out of the house then, which seems the far more daunting option of the two.

I wish there was a third option.

But there isn’t.

I’m in a mess.