Page 108 of The Psychopath Next Door

But Rose didn’t move. She was staring at Fiona with horror, and Fiona realised she shouldn’t have said that about herself and Ethan in front of her. It was something she needed to talk to Rose about, properly prepare her for. How, if they were going to be a family, she and Ethan were going to have to be together.

‘You and mydad?’ Rose said.

Fiona shifted around so she was standing between Emma and the door out of this room. Keeping her eye on Emma, she said, ‘Rose, do you want me to answer your question now? Tell you who was third on my list?’

Rose nodded slowly while Emma stood beside her, wanting to leave but frozen to the spot by confusion and curiosity.

‘I told you about the Land Rover that stopped Maisie and me from getting away, didn’t I? Well, when I got out of prison—’

‘Prison?’ Emma said.

‘—I found out that the Land Rover belonged to your parents. I thought at first it was probably your dad driving – making a sexist assumption – but when I looked back through his social media I saw he was away at some big record fair, had set off on the first train of the day, so it couldn’t have been him. It was your mum.’

She turned to Emma. ‘It was you.’

Emma stared back at her. Rose was staring too, taking all this in. After the accident that was about to happen – the mishap on this day out – Fiona would explain that she, Fiona, was going to be her mum now. Her dad would be grieving and need comforting, and Fiona would be there for him, and soon he would fall in love with her and it would be easy for her to move next door. Wouldn’tit be amazing, the two of them together, all the time?I have so much to show you, she would say.So much to teach you. You’ll be my shield, I’ll be your mentor. Together, we will be unstoppable.

Partnerships are great, but what does society really value, Rose? I’ll tell you. Family. It’s the ideal way to disguise ourselves, to get away with anything we want to do. No one would ever suspect this perfect family unit. We’ll be able to befriend all these rich old people, all these decrepit millionaires – you, this sweet girl who nobody would ever suspect, and your delightful stepmother. They’ll be signing their estates over to us before you can say two-point-four children.

But that little speech was still a few minutes in the future. First, the accident needed to happen.

Emma emerged from the trance she’d been in and attempted to grab Rose’s wrist. Rose wriggled from her grasp – and moved to stand beside Fiona.

‘What the hell?’ Emma clearly couldn’t believe what she was seeing. ‘Rose. Come. Now.’

‘I’m not a dog.’

‘What? I know you’re not a dog. You’re my daughter, and you’re going to do as you’re told.’

‘No.’

Emma’s mouth fell open and Fiona clapped her hands with glee. This was delicious. Rose’s rebellion in the restaurant had been annoying, but this ...

‘She’s a maniac,’ Emma said. ‘Rose. Come with me. We’re leaving.’

‘I’m sorry, Emma, but you’re not.’

Fiona took the flick-knife out of her inside pocket and pressed the button which made the blade appear.

It had been a while since Fiona had seen an expression of such horror. Surprise unfolded on Rose’s face too.

Fiona moved towards Emma, the knife outstretched. ‘Now. You’re coming with me.’

But it wasn’t Emma she reached out for. It was Rose whose upper arm she gripped and pulled towards her.

She held the knife to Rose’s throat.

‘Come with me. Or you both die.’

39

Fiona stood with her back to the closed door, squeezing the handle of the knife, the blade held lightly against Rose’s throat. Her other arm was wrapped around the girl’s waist, holding her still. It was rare for her pulse to get above eighty, but right now she knew it had to be right up at ninety. Heat spread through her veins. She had reached the culmination of one plan, the end of a chapter of her life and the beginning of another.

She could sense Maisie beside her, looking as she had when they’d first met. They had both been waitressing in a little café in Freo, Fiona fifteen years old, doing the Saturday shift, and Maisie in her forties. The Englishwoman who told everyone she was travelling the world, taking an extended stay in Western Australia because it was so beautiful. Later, she would tell Fiona she had stayed because of her.

‘I recognised it in you the first day we met,’ she would say. ‘I knew we had to be together.’

And so Maisie had stayed in Australia for several years, until her visa had long expired and immigration began to sniff around. After Maisie returned to England, Fiona had tried to get by on her own for a few years, but it was impossible. She needed her mentor. Had always needed her. So she had followed.

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