Page 75 of The First Mistake

‘No, I do not, just a sister. Can I ask what this is all about?’

I felt my insides crumble, as if a tiny pickaxe was chipping away at my core beliefs, my morality, my self-preservation, slowly destroying everything I held true.

‘Joyce,’ I said, breathlessly, leaning down beside her chair. ‘Do you remember me? I was here a few days ago with your son Thomas.’

‘Now, just wait a minute,’ said the man, starting to stand up as Joyce shook her head fearfully.

I racked my brain trying to remember what she’d called me. My real name wouldn’t mean anything to her. ‘I’m ... Helen,’ I said, remembering. ‘I was here with Thomas. We spoke about Frank and The Beatles. You told me how you’d sneak out of the house so that your dad didn’t see you in your miniskirt.’

‘Okay, that’s enough,’ said the man, grabbing my arm tightly and hauling me up.

‘Joyce, I was here withhim,’ I screamed as he pulled me away. ‘You called for help. You said it was him. You kept saying, “He’s here.”’

I felt the grip on my arm tighten. ‘Please Joyce. Try to remember.’

‘Whowere you here with?’ asked Ben Forrester, his nostrils flared.

‘I don’t know,’ I said, sobbing as the truth of the words sunk in. ‘I honestly don’t know.’

29

Mum took one look at me and ushered me into the hallway.

‘What on earth has happened?’ she asked, putting her arm around my back.

‘I can’t ... I just can’t ...’

‘Calm down,’ she soothed as she walked me into the kitchen. ‘Here, sit down.’ She moved a pile of interior magazines to the side of the table, each neatly marked-up with Post-it notes.

I felt my heart break.

‘It’s Thomas ...’ I sobbed.

She pulled me to her and held my head against her stomach, rocking me gently. ‘Darling, what is it? What’s happened?’ I briefly wondered how she couldn’t guess, but if she’d had that kind of cynical mind, then she would never have agreed to this crazy plan in the first place. Or had I agreed to it on her behalf? It certainly felt like it.

‘He’s gone,’ I choked. ‘He’s gone with all the money.’

The rocking stopped abruptly and she held me away from her, staring at me, her eyes unblinking. I could only imagine the vice-like grip that was squeezing her insides, making her feel as if she couldn’t breathe.

‘What ... what do you mean?’ she faltered. ‘What are you saying?’

‘He’s a conman, Mum. He duped me, then you, into believing that he was doing it forus... that he hadourbest interests at heart.’

‘Where is he?’ she asked matter-of-factly.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, where does he live? That might be a good place to start.’ There was an acerbic tone to her voice. An accusatory edge. ‘Had you thought of that? He can’t just disappear into thin air, can he?’

My head fell into my hands. ‘I don’t know where he lives.’

‘What do youmean, you don’t know where he lives?’ she asked coldly. ‘You’ve been seeing him for months.’

‘I’ve never been to his place,’ I admitted.

She threw her arms up in the air before taking herself off and circling around the kitchen, deep in thought.

I knew the question was coming, even before she asked it.

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