Prologue
Her head felt thick, stuffed to overflowing with all the worries that kept her awake. She couldn’t tell Matt, couldn’t tell anyone.
It was the only thing I could have done, she told herself. And was it really that wrong?
The answer to that was yes. However she might dress up the situation to try and disguise her actions, the answer was always going to be the same.
She’d thought she was solving a problem, but she had in fact created a monster. One that followed her round every minute of the day, scaring her, making her break out in a cold sweat and keeping her awake at night.
Nobody knows, she reminded herself as she wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself tight. There’s still time. Time to put it right.
Chapter One
The day started like any other. Ezra crept into their bed at his usual 5.30 in the morning, his little hands sneaking round Sara’s neck, his head nuzzled into her shoulder as he mumbled a sleepy ‘Are you awake, Mummy?’
She pretended she wasn’t, hoping he might settle and drift off to sleep for another couple of hours.
He gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. ‘I love you, Mummy,’ he said in a stage whisper. She opened her eyes and looked into his four-year-old face, his skin lit by the chink of light that slid across the room from the open doorway into the hall.
‘Love you too, little smudge.’ She kissed him on the nose and cuddled him to her for a moment before whispering, ‘Come on, let’s go downstairs, shall we?’
She knew from experience if she didn’t move now, Ezra’s voice would grow louder, the questions would start, and Matt would get cranky about being woken up so early. Matt was a night owl, rarely coming to bed before midnight, whereas Ezra was an early bird, and the two things added a new dimension to Sara’s marriage as she tried to juggle both of their needs.
At least Sophia and Amelia – or Milly, as she preferred to be called – were old enough at fourteen to look after themselves in the mornings and help a bit around the house. As identical twins, they reflected a mirror image of each other, inheriting their father’s angular face, light brown hair and wide-set grey eyes. They’d always been a tight unit, two halves of a whole, making Sara feel a bit redundant as a mother at times because they relied on each other so much. Ezra, though, took after her in looks, with his wavy black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes.
Unlike his sisters, Ezra was a cuddly child, a sensitive little soul, who loved spending time with her. He’d been a surprise baby, born when the girls were ten and they’d had no plans to expand their family. Not a mistake, more of a bonus, a joyful addition to the clan. It had meant putting her own plans on hold for a while longer, but Matt had been ecstatic to finally have a son. ‘A boy to play football with, do all the rough-and-tumble stuff,’ he’d said. Which was ironic, given that the girls were both mad keen on football and played in the local team while Ezra, so far, seemed to hate anything physical. He liked to think and question and do crafty things and bake cakes and draw. Not exactly the son Matt had hoped for, whereas he possessed many of the qualities Sara had expected but not found in her daughters.
She got out of bed and clasped Ezra’s hand in hers, putting her finger to her lips to make sure their exit was as quiet as possible. Funny how life turns out, she thought, a warm glow spreading through her at the thought of her family and their little peculiarities.
They padded down the stairs and into the lounge, where Sara flicked on the lights and Ezra ran to the art box and opened the lid. ‘I’m going to draw you an elephant,’ he declared, while she stretched and yawned and wandered through the dining area into the open-plan kitchen.
The new layout downstairs was still a source of joy to her, inspired by a TV makeover series, and although it had cost an alarming amount of money and meant they’d had to extend their mortgage, it had made life so much easier. Three rooms had become one big L shape, where she could cook and keep an eye on Ezra and help the girls with their homework all at the same time. They’d even gone for bifold doors opening into the back garden, a luxury that Matt had persuaded her would add value to their Victorian end-of-terrace property should they ever decide to sell. After years of struggling with ill-fitting cupboard doors and drawers that kept coming off their sliders, even the simple act of watching the cutlery drawer close on its own made her smile. Simple pleasures, she thought, grinning to herself as she opened the new dishwasher to retrieve her favourite mug.
Matt had bought her a coffee machine for her birthday, which had become her prized possession and something of a lifesaver with these early starts and the lack of sleep. She put in a pod, topped up the water and switched it on, breathing in the scent of freshly brewed coffee as it spluttered and gurgled into her mug. She was hoping Ezra would sleep a little later once he started school in September, but that was still months away, and in the meantime, she wondered if she should go and ask the doctor for something to help with her insomnia. Then she remembered her sister Hailey’s experience with sleeping pills, how she’d become addicted and struggled to get herself right again, and decided that the new yoga class at the community centre might be a better alternative.
‘Mummy, look!’ Ezra called as he came running up to her with a piece of paper flapping in his hand. She took the drawing and gazed at the grey squiggles.
‘That’s lovely,’ she said, unable to remember what he’d said he was going to draw. It could be any number of things and he got offended if she didn’t know what his pictures were supposed to be. ‘Let’s put it on the fridge with the others, shall we?’
He jumped up and down, clapping his hands, excited to see his artistic efforts displayed.
‘Are you ready for breakfast?’ Sara asked, pulling a carton from the fridge and pouring milk into his Thomas the Tank Engine mug, the only one he’d drink from. He guzzled it down, licking the white moustache from his upper lip.
‘Not yet. I’ve got more drawing to do.’ And off he went, back to the art box. She watched him for a moment as he carefully chose the right colours for his next picture.
She picked up her coffee mug and cradled it to her chest, a to-do list for the day writing itself in her mind. So many things to remember with three kids, a husband and a house to manage. Especially now she’d started working part-time as well, something she’d been desperate to do, if only for a bit of adult interaction. But meeting everyone’s needs, including her own, was like herding cats, and she inevitably forgot things. She sipped her coffee, relishing the taste, the warmth of it in her throat. The best cup of the day.
She watched Ezra, his tongue poking out as he worked away, and knew she wouldn’t change a thing; even if it was a bit chaotic and hard work, it was worth every minute. Matt and the kids were the centre of her world, and keeping them all happy was her job, her reason for being. After the shambles of her own upbringing, it was the focus of every decision she made, and she was determined that her children would have the stability she’d craved when she was growing up.
I’m never going to turn into my mother, she promised herself. However hard things get, we’ll make it work.
Her childhood memories were something she refused to visit voluntarily. Instead they wormed their way into her brain at night, waking her in the form of nightmares, chilling her heart. She and her sister had a tacit agreement to never discuss it. It was the past; they’d got through it and it was best forgotten. That was the theory. But how did you forget being taken into care from the age of six?