The Birth Mother by AJ Carter

Author:AJ Carter [Carter, AJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Ruby

I’M NOT COMPLETELY proud of myself.

I wasn’t exactly telling the truth either.

But what even is the truth? Not that Chris tried touching me up or that he offered me a generous donation of cash in exchange for the good stuff. No, all of that is actually better than what really happened, but this is far more convenient.

For me, that is.

Lizzie’s face has drained to sheet white. Even with the limited light from the nearby car park lamp, I can see the blood rush from her cheeks. She looks like a ghost, staring in at her family and probably asking herself what to do. She reminds me a bit of that Christmas Carol film where Michael Caine (depending on which version, I suppose) looks in at his life from an alternative future. And just like Scrooge, she’s probably trying to figure out her absence.

‘Promise me you’re telling the truth,’ she says, her voice void of all emotion. ‘Tell me just one time that what you said happened did actually happen, and I’ll never question it again.’

There’s no kind way to say it, so I just rest a hand on her shoulder and pretend not to notice when she shivers. I lower my voice to something calm and reasonable, kind of like when I’m settling the nerves of a client.

Then I lean in and whisper the lie.

‘It happened,’ I tell her. ‘I promise with everything I have.’

If she ever had a chance of hiding her tears, that chance is well out of here. Lizzie shrugs my hand off her shoulder and makes a weird noise as her body convulses and the crying intensifies. Should I comfort her or smile? Make a joke of it or tell her the truth?

Nah, any of that would only make it worse.

So I do all there is to do – I stand back and make a path between her and the restaurant’s front door. While she continues to bawl like a baby, I fish through my handbag for a pack of tissues and hold them out to her. It’s not that much of a shock when she snatches them from me, dabs her eyes, then breezes past me while shaking her head.

The damage is done. That much is clear as day.

I move to the window and watch her strut across the restaurant, her long, flowing cardigan trailing behind her like a humble wedding dress. Amy doesn’t look up from her ice cream – good girl, you just enjoy these people for the last time – but Chris stands to attention and moves to embrace his wife with the same hands that touched me last night.

That were all over me while we fucked like bunnies.

The window feels like a cinema, and I’m the only viewer. The film is about a woman who finds out her husband is a rat, and meanwhile, someone is plotting to take their daughter away in the very foreseeable future. ‘How?’ is one question for the audience, but the more fitting question is ‘why?’, and the viewers will only have to watch for the answer.

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