The Return of Rachel Stone Read online

  Ten minutes later, alone in her bedroom, she typed out an email to her other brother Jack, begging him to come home. Then, while she waited for a reply, she dug razors into her arms above the elbows, trying to use the pain to block out every sinful thought that filled her mind.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Today

  “She's a right stuck-up little bitch, isn't she?” Nick muttered as he and Jo sat in the drawing room, waiting for the Stone family to join them for after-dinner drinks. “Like properly, properly up her own -”

  “She was acting out,” Jo replied, interrupting him. “She says things to get a rise out of people.”

  “And it works.”

  “It works.” She paused, thinking back to the way Rachel had brought up the subject of cancer. She knew she'd reacted badly, that she should have just stayed in her seat and answered each question with nothing but honesty, but instead she'd let herself get driven out of the room. By the time she'd returned ten minutes later, she'd already understood that she'd been beaten down, and that Rachel had the upper hand.

  “What she said back there,” Nick said cautiously, “I mean... The stuff about pills and being sick... It wasn't true, was it? She was just bluffing.”

  “It doesn't matter,” Jo said, taking a deep breath as she got to her feet. “This whole evening has been about Rachel demonstrating her control. Control over the house, control over her family, control over us. She enjoys making everyone feel small. It's her way of deflecting attention from the subjects that really worry her.”

  “But are you -”

  “I'm annoyed,” she continued. “I want to know what she's up to. What she's hiding.”

  “Do you think she really is Rachel?”

  Jo turned to him. “I'm starting to think that -”

  Before she could finish, she heard footsteps nearby, and she turned to see Margaret hurrying into the room with Bradley in tow. Bradley was carrying two suitcases, and his expression suggested that he was worried about something.

  “Well, I'm leaving,” Margaret announced, her voice filled with tension as she headed to a table and picked up her purse. “I'm not going to stay in this house a moment longer, not if I'm going to be spoken to in such a horrid manner. Bradley has very kindly agreed to let me stay in his spare room, so I shall go there for a while and then I'll find my own place. It's high time I moved out of this old pile anyway.”

  “Is this because of Rachel?” Jo asked.

  “Of course it's because of -”

  Catching herself just in time, Margaret hesitated for a moment.

  “I remember Rachel,” she continued finally, with tears in her eyes. “The real Rachel, I mean. She was such a sweet baby, so happy and joyous. I sincerely hope that such a lovely child could never grow up to become the kind of mean-spirited, caustic, downright offensive monster that's sitting in that dining room right now. I think I'd prefer it if the real Rachel had -”

  Again, she stopped for a moment, before making the sign of the cross against her chest.

  “Well, I shouldn't say that out loud,” she added, turning and heading toward the door. “Bradley, I must find my mobile phone. I shall meet you at the car.”

  “I've been trying to get her out of this place for years,” Bradley told Jo as Margaret marched off into the distance. “I wish the circumstances were different, but I can't deny that I'm glad to finally get her away from the house. It wasn't good for her, living under her brother's thumb, always being used as a verbal punching bag. Herbert and Diana have been like children, and Margaret was basically the only responsible adult in the house. Now things have changed, and I rather think Margaret needs to start over.”

  “You might be right,” Jo told him.

  “Besides, Herbert isn't even...”

  His voice trailed off.

  “Herbert isn't even what?” Jo asked.

  “Never mind.”

  “If there's anything else that you know,” she added, “anything that could help at all, I need you to tell me. Even if you don't think it's important.”

  “I don't know anything,” he replied, but a hint of desperation in his eyes seemed to suggest that he was holding back. “I've said too much already. My priority is Margaret's happiness. That's why I invited you to look into this matter, Miss Mason, and perhaps it's why we should think about ending your investigation. Now that Margaret's leaving the house, it doesn't matter what happens here.”

  “You can't really believe that.”

  “There's still the question of the money,” Bradley continued. “I'm not saying that Margaret needs anything from the business in order to be happy, but I'd hate to think that someone could con the Stone family like this.” He hesitated for a moment. “Please see if there's anything else you can dig up, but if you've found nothing within a few more days, I think perhaps there'll be no point going any further.”

  “I'll see what I can do,” Jo replied, “but the priority right now should be a DNA test. Herbert or his wife need to agree to get a test done.”

  “They won't do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have no idea. Margaret thinks it's because they're terrified of losing the girl again. Frankly, I've got my doubts about that. I think they're scared of something else. They almost seem scared of the girl herself. You saw how things were at dinner this evening. They won't dare challenge her.”

  “She certainly seems to have them wrapped around her little finger,” Jo pointed out. “Maybe she's just a master manipulator. Or maybe she knows something, and they're terrified of it getting out.”

  “All I care about is Margaret,” he told her. “I'm sorry, but that's simply the truth. This matter needs to be concluded as swiftly as possible, so that she has some peace. At least now that she's coming to live with me, I can look after her properly.”

  ***

  “Rachel?”

  Stopping in the open doorway, Jo saw that Rachel had just stepped off the patio and was making her way across the grass. The girl stopped as soon as she heard her name being called, however, and she slowly turned to look back at Jo. Silhouetted against the dark garden, Rachel appeared for a moment as if she was truly furious at the interruption, although her usual smirk quickly returned.

  “I thought you'd left by now,” she said finally.

  “I'm going very soon,” Jo replied, stepping out to join her. “It seems like this dinner party is fizzling out. What about you? Heading off for another of your late-night walks?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Where are you going?”

  She shrugged. “I'll just see where I end up.”

  Jo opened her mouth to ask another question, before realizing she could hear a very faint sound in the distance. Taking a couple more steps forward, she listened to the distant cry of a baby.

  “You hear that, right?” she said after a moment.

  “Hear what?” Rachel replied quickly.

  “The baby. It's like -”

  Suddenly the sound stopped, and already Jo was starting to wonder whether she'd even heard it in the first place.

  “I'm sorry about what I said in there,” Rachel told her. “At the dinner table, I mean. I went too far. I should never have started talking about your cancer like that.”

  “You didn't say anything that's not true.”

  “Doesn't matter. It's none of my business and I used it to try to cut you down. I hate people who do that and I don't want to become one of them. It's the kind of thing Herbert Stone would have done, and the thought of turning into him is enough to make my blood run cold.” She paused for a moment. “Can you forgive me?”

  “Already done.”

  “It's just this place,” Rachel continued, looking up at the lights of the house. “Sometimes I feel like it's crushing me. The atmosphere in there is unreal. You must have felt it too, right?”

  “Maybe. Herbert and Diana seem... tense.”

  “That's one way of describing it. Still, I should never have
let them prod me like that. I swear, it doesn't matter what I say or what I do, they absolutely refuse to stand up to me. I think that's one of the reasons why I act out sometimes. I want to see how far I can go before they eventually push back, but they just bend and bend like they've got no backbones at all. Sometimes I think I could...”

  Her voice trailed off.

  “You think you could what?” Jo asked.

  “Sometimes I think I could stab one of them to death,” Rachel replied, “and the other one would just ask politely if I'd mind cleaning up the mess. They're both absolutely terrified of something. I mean, come on, you must have picked up on that. They're living in fear.”

  “I've picked up on a certain vibe,” Jo said as she wandered over to join her. Turning, she looked at the house and saw the bright windows. “Why did you call Nick Cotterall and tell him you were back?” she asked after a moment. “Why did you decide to tip the press off about your own return?”

  “Who says I did that?”

  “I'm not stupid, Rachel.”

  The girl sighed. “I'm not some kind of fame whore.”

  “I never accused you of that.”

  “I just needed to shake things up. I knew exactly what would happen when I showed up, I knew exactly how Herbert and Diana would react, and I couldn't afford to just sit around, waiting for one of them to snap. I knew I'd have to really apply some pressure, but I didn't think it'd take this much. Those two assholes are completely out of their minds! They're terrified that the truth is going to come out.”

  “And what truth might that be?”

  Rachel opened her mouth to reply, before glancing past Jo as if she was worried about someone sneaking up and overhearing their conversation.

  “We can't talk about it here,” she said finally, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Are you going to be around tomorrow?”

  “Margaret and Bradley want me to keep digging.”

  “Can I meet you somewhere? It has to be out of town, in case I'm followed. I should be able to slip away after midday, so can we meet at the old viaduct at one o'clock? It's about three miles out of town, to the west. There are signposts.”

  “Sure,” Jo replied, “but -”

  “I'll tell you what I know when I meet you,” she added, stepping past her and heading back toward the doors that led into the house. “If I'm late, wait for me. I might not be able to get out of here whenever I want. Mummy and Daddy tend to keep a very close eye on me.”

  “Can you at least give me a clue?” Jo asked.

  Rachel turned to her for a moment, before shaking her head. “I know I play games sometimes, but this isn't one of those games. The time for games is over, and I need to start doing what I came here to do. Not that...”

  Again, she paused, and now there seemed to be tears in her eyes as she looked up at the night sky.

  “Sometimes I think I should have just stayed in London. Life on the streets isn't so bad, not once you find the right people. I used to doss down in this park near Vauxhall Bridge, there was a real community there and everyone looked after everyone else. I never once felt alone or hated or in danger. You'd think coming home would be better, but every night in this house I catch myself thinking back to the time I spent living rough. And every night, you have no idea how close I come to getting out of here and never coming back. Just hitching all the way back to London and being done with this family. I mean, do I really care so much that their secrets come out?”

  She turned to Jo.

  “That's one of the reasons I go out walking,” she added. “I'm trying to spend as little time as possible in this miserable house. Sometimes I sit in a field and close my eyes and pretend I'm back in the park, next to the bridge. And bizarrely, that's the only time I feel happy. Sucks, huh?”

  “It's natural that it'd take time to settle in here,” Jo pointed out. “You were just a baby when you were taken. You don't remember these people or this place at all.”

  She waited for a reply, but now Rachel was simply staring up at the night sky, as if she was lost in thought. It wasn't difficult for Jo to realize that the girl was thinking back to her old life in London.

  “Rachel,” she said finally, “I really need to ask you about -”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “But -”

  “Tomorrow, okay?” Stepping back, Rachel turned to her with a hint of desperation in her eyes. And tears, too. “I don't want to talk right now. I hate everything about this place, I hate -”

  She stopped as a nearby door creaked, and she and Jo both turned to see Bradley stepping out onto the patio. He was busy lighting a cigarette, although he froze as soon as he realized he had company.

  “Leave me alone!” Rachel yelled at him, as if she was on the verge of a breakdown. “I don't want any more questions! I don't want people looking at me that way anymore!”

  “I'm sorry?” Bradley replied, clearly surprised. “What -”

  “Like that!” she shouted, with tears streaming down her face. “Just leave me alone and go to hell! All of you!”

  With that, she turned and raced off across the lawn, quickly disappearing into the shadows at the far end of the garden.

  “What was all that about?” Bradley asked, before taking a drag from his cigarette.

  “She's fifteen years old,” Jo pointed out, watching the shadows but seeing no sign of the girl. “Trust me. Pretending to be more grown up than you are is kind of par for the course.”

  Chapter Twenty

  15 years ago

  “Rachel! I'm coming!”

  Hurrying across the dark lawn, Diana almost stumbled as she made her way toward the tree-line. She could hear her daughter's cries ahead, ringing out through the forest, and she felt certain that somehow – by some miracle – the week-long nightmare was coming to an end. Reaching the first trees, she stopped for a moment and tried to get her bearings, but the cries seemed to be coming from all around and eventually she started struggling through the undergrowth, searching for the source of the noise.

  “Rachel!” she screamed. “Mummy's here! Mummy's coming for you!”

  And yet no matter how far she pushed her way through the forest, the cries always seemed to be a little further ahead.

  ***

  “You're right! It's her! What the blazes is she doing here?”

  “She doesn't look alright. Do you think we should call someone?”

  “She looks ill. Like, in the head.”

  “Call someone. For God's sake, somebody get this woman some help!”

  Ignoring the whispered voices of the locals outside the town pub, Diana continued to make her way along the street, still desperately trying to find the source of the cries. She'd followed the sound for almost an hour now, allowing it to lead her away from the house and its grounds, stumbling along the main road and finally entering the town for the first time in many years. Oblivious to the fact that she was being watched, she looked around at the houses, convinced that Rachel's cries had to be coming from one of the windows.

  “I can hear you,” she whispered, stumbling back until she bumped against the wall of a nearby cottage. “Rachel, Mummy's here...”

  “Mrs. Stone?”

  Startled, she turned to find that a woman had emerged from the cottage and was holding a blanket.

  “Are you okay there, love?” the woman continued, holding the blanket up as if she meant to place it over Diana's shoulders. “You must be freezing on a night like this. You're only wearing a nightdress. Why don't you come inside for a bit and we can see what's wrong, eh?”

  “I'm here to fetch Rachel,” Diana replied, her voice trembling slightly.

  “A lot of people have been out all day looking for her. I'm sure they'll find her soon.”

  “But she's crying here! Can't you hear her? Are you deaf?”

  The woman hesitated, as if she couldn't hear the cries at all.

  “I don't have time to talk,” Diana continued, stumbling past her and setting off along the str
eet. “Rachel!” she called out. “Keep crying! Mummy's going to find you!”

  “I don't know what's wrong,” the woman said behind her, as her husband joined her in the doorway. “She doesn't seem right in the head.”

  Reaching the end of the dark street, Diana made her way around the corner, not even stopping when a car came the other way. She held her arms up to shield her eyes as the headlights shone in her face, and then she began to shuffle around the side of the car, even as the driver's side window was wound down and a man peered out at her.

  “Are you walking down the middle of the road, darling?” he asked with a smile, but the smile quickly faded. “Mrs. Stone? Are you okay?”

  “Quiet!” she hissed, holding a finger up to her mouth and stopping for a moment, looking around at the various stone cottages. The child's cries seemed to be echoing in the night air, bouncing from wall to wall but never quite settling in one place, as if they were swirling around and trying to drive her out of her mind. “Where is she?” she whispered. “It's like she's everywhere at once.”

  “Right,” the man said cautiously, opening his door and climbing out, as several other villagers came closer. “I'm not sure I hear anything at all, to be honest.”

  “Rachel's here,” Diana continued. “Rachel's alive. I can feel it in my heart. My daughter is not dead!”

  “Here you go,” the woman from the cottage said, placing the blanket across Diana's shoulders. “You need -”

  “Leave me alone!” Diana hissed, pushing her away and shuffling past her, just as a police car ground to a halt just a few meters up ahead. “Oh thank God, the police have arrived. They'll be able to find Rachel, I'm sure.”

  “Evening, Mrs. Stone,” an officer said as he stepped out of the car. “We had a report that you were maybe in need of help. Looks like a cold night to be out alone without a coat.”

  “Rachel's crying!” she told him, with tears in her eyes. “You have to get her out of there! She's in one of these houses and she's crying for me!”