turned from her little excursion. Just enough time to go
through her things. ‘Duty calls. I’m afraid I have to go.’
After saying her goodbyes, Sheridan made a quick call
to summon her chauffeur-driven car. When it came to
secrets, Monica didn’t know the half of it. Having Roz
under their roof would bond Daniel to Sheridan for life.
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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Roz
I jabbed the button to lower the car window, groaning as
it refused to budge. Neither George nor I had the energy
for fake cheeriness, and our earlier snatched conversation
played heavily on my mind. I sat pressed against the car
door, half-tempted to pull the handle and escape on to the
streets of New York. I didn’t want to return to Sheridan
because I didn’t trust her any more. The memory of our
first argument replayed in a loop in my head. Why had
she said I’d bruised her arm when I hadn’t laid a finger on her? She seemed confident that I would accept her version
of events. It wasn’t as if she’d known my memory would
play me up. Unless … Sheridan said I hadn’t drunk my
juice that morning, that I had knocked over the glass. Yet
as my memory returned, I clearly recalled being forced
to swallow every drop. It seemed odd, her barking at
me to drink it right after she’d discovered that I’d lied.
I chewed on my thumbnail, ignoring George’s tuts of
disgust. I didn’t care about his approval any more. He was
too caught up in his own worries to help me. Sheridan
had said she was drunk the night she conceived Leo. Was it a ruse to get me to confess? If so, how had she known
I’d been drinking that night? It was not as if she could
ask anyone … I wracked my brain, ticking off a mental
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checklist. I had deleted Facebook so I couldn’t be tagged.
I wasn’t on Twitter, and Dympna’s settings were set to
private because of her dad’s job in the police.
I looked out of the tinted car window, staring but
not seeing as I lost myself in thought. It was crazy; she
couldn’t have known I was drunk, not unless she’d vis-
ited the nightclub in person and talked to the staff. I was paranoid, my imagination galloping away with me. Then
it hit me. When I’d first filled in my online bio, it had
asked about my social life. Not wanting to appear too
much of a nun, I’d listed HEAT nightclub in Dublin as
one of my old haunts. HEAT took photos, stamped with
a time and date. Their photographer had a soft spot for
me, and often snapped pictures for their Facebook page.
My stomach lurched as the realisation hit home.
‘Are you all right?’ George said. ‘You’re very pale.’
‘I’m Irish,’ I replied, trying to sound upbeat. ‘It goes
with the territory.’
If Sheridan was devious enough to record our conver-
sations, then she was easily capable of looking up HEAT
online. How could I have been so stupid? I recalled the
cold expression on her face as I’d crumpled in a heap in
the lift. I needed to find a way to call Dympna and tell
her my exact location. I didn’t feel safe in New York any
more.
I forced a smile on to my face as we entered the kitchen,
George filling Sheridan in on our trip.
‘I had a great time. We packed loads into one after-
noon,’ I added. ‘My calves are killing me from all that
walking. I might go for a lie down, if that’s OK.’ It was
the first time I had volunteered to go to my basement,
but I was desperate to speak to Dympna. I thought about
the hotel travel plug I’d used for my hair straighteners.
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Had George packed it by any chance? Could it be shoved
in one of my drawers?
‘Did you have a nice time with your friend?’ I asked,
as Sheridan stood before me.
‘It was fine, thank you. I didn’t stay long.’ Sheridan
handed me a sheet of paper. ‘Your updated schedule. It
covers trimester two.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, despite the fact that I hated Sheridan’s
stupid schedules with a passion. Getting out of the apart-
ment for a few hours had reminded me how nice it was
not to be committed to a timetable.
I turned to George. ‘Thanks for everything, Mr G.’
I meant it. He had probably imparted far more than he
had meant to with me. He could have said nothing, or
worse still, told Sheridan that I’d switched off his phone.
‘Ooh, Mr G, I like it,’ George replied, his gaze flicking
from me to Sheridan. Despite his smile, he seemed on
his guard and did not take his eyes off her for very long.
‘Leo’s due home any second,’ Sheridan said, giving
me the hint to go to my room.
Wearily, I made my way to the lift. I knew Anna
would activate the pass to allow me down. But as I turned
the corner in the hallway, I froze in my tracks. Anna was
at the front door, trying to stop a visitor from coming
in. I recognised the thick Boston accent from Sheridan’s
dinner party. It was Monica, and she barged past Anna
as she allowed herself inside.
Swearing under my breath, I jabbed at the lift button,
but it wouldn’t work without a pass. Besides, it was too
late. She had already seen me.
‘Hello there, who are you?’ she said, giving me the
once-over. She was curvy with big hair, and a couple
of inches smaller than me. She was also in my face.
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Instinctively, my hands fell to my bump. ‘I … I…’ I
stuttered, wishing the lift would swallow me up.
The sound of Sheridan’s footsteps made me fold my
arms tightly in a knot.
‘Maria,’ Sheridan said, her voice as taut as a violin
string. ‘I was looking for you. Can you get Leo’s clothes
ready? He’s got a play date scheduled in an hour.’
My eyes darted from left to right and I realised she
was talking to me.
‘Yeah … sure,’ I said, jabbing the lift button again.
Sheridan glared, her annoyance evident. ‘You’re not
an invalid, are you? Take the stairs.’
Spinning on my heel I left them both to it, the echoes
of Monica’s voice in my ears: ‘You left your purse be-
hind. I thought I’d drop it in. It’s a killer finding pahking around here…’
I stopped around the corner and realised I was trem-
bling. Why didn’t Sheridan tell her who I really was?
I knew she was passing my baby off as her own, but
couldn’t she have confided in her friend? I took a deep,
soothing breath. Told myself to get a grip. I walked into
the kitchen, waiting for Sheridan to return.
‘What’s going on?’ George paled as I returned. I was
about to explain when I heard the front door close.
‘I…’ my words were cut short as Sheridan marched
in, her arms swinging by her side.
‘Why were you standing there like a gormless idiot?’
She jabbed the air with her finger. ‘I had to tell her you
were a member of staff.’
‘I’m sorry. I … I didn’t know what to do.’
‘What if she saw your bump?’ She narrowed her eyes.
‘She didn’t, did she? Because that’s a whole can of worms
you don’t want opening.’
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I remembered laying my hands on my stomach. Had
Monica seen? I couldn’t honestly say. My top was baggy,
and I wasn’t big.
I shook my head. ‘We only spoke for a second. I don’t
think she saw.’
‘As for pressing the lift button for the basement floor…’
She prodded the side of my forehead, her finger like a
woodpecker burrowing into my brain. ‘Think, girl, think!
If I issue my staff a command, they bow their heads instead of replying, “Yeah, sure.”’
I bristled at her attempt at copying my Irish accent. If
it were anyone else, I would have given them a mouthful
and slapped their hand away. It was hardly my fault that
she’d left her purse at the restaurant and that Anna had
let Monica in. Yet I was the one taking the blame.
‘I’ll go to my room.’ I shuffled out to the corridor,
exchanging one last look with George as she dismissed
me with a wave. He appeared uncomfortable throughout
our exchange, but remained silent just the same.
* * *
I stepped inside my basement room, trying not to cry.
This wasn’t the family I had envisioned for my child.
After kicking off my trainers, I pulled on a thick pair of
socks and padded over to the air vent above. Craning my
neck, I strained to hear George mention a bad signal and
Sheridan saying it was fine, as she hadn’t been listening
anyway. She had to be referring to when I turned off his
phone. Why did she need to listen? What did she think
we were going to do?
Quick footsteps above me were accompanied by a door
slamming shut. Leo was home from school. I returned
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my attention to my surroundings, my senses on high
alert. Something was different. It was more than the usual
housekeeping. Things had been moved.
I cast my eye over the bulging bookshelf. Sheridan
had added to it in my absence. Had she been through my
things? Being seen by Monica would only make Sheridan
tighten the reins on me even more. Her employees acted
like robots whenever she was around. Was that how she
expected me to behave, too? I thought of George, and the
act he put on in her company. I thought of the servants
too scared to meet my eye. Everybody except Daniel
was walking on eggshells. George seemed unsurprised
when I’d told him that Sheridan had pulled my hair.
Had he seen her do this sort of thing before? I glanced
around the ceiling. Had she fitted cameras in this room?
Microphones?
I opened the double wardrobe. I was grasping at
straws. If George had unpacked a travel plug I would
have seen it by now. The thought dissipated as I noticed
something was wrong. Gone were my blouses, dresses
and jeans. Row upon row of grey shapeless maternity
dresses hung in their place. I pulled open the drawer
underneath. Next to my sweatshirts were belly-hugging
grey knickers and regimented-looking maternity bras.
I checked the crumpled label on a maternity dress. Was
this even new?
It was bad enough that I had to give my clothes to
Juanita to wash. But for Sheridan to come in here and
remove my underwear … it was beyond belief. This
was the real reason for my sightseeing trip. She must
have come back from lunch early to snoop through
my things.
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My heart faltered. My phone. What if Sheridan had found my phone? I had broken the rules by having it in my room.
I pushed aside the hangers, searching for my suitcase
at the back and feverishly pulling it out.
‘No,’ I whispered aloud.
The phone had gone.
211
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Sheridan
‘Are you looking for this?’ Sheridan held up the mobile
phone as she stood a few feet away from Roz.
‘Oh!’ Roz exclaimed, almost jumping out of her skin.
Littered at her feet were items of underwear next to the
open suitcase on the floor.
Taking the clothes had been an act of punishment
and Sheridan observed her with the morbid curiosity of
a cat playing with a mouse.
‘You lied,’ she said, ‘for a second time. There will be
consequences.’
But it seemed this little mouse had had enough of
being pushed around.
‘Give me back my phone,’ Roz spat, her apparent
nervousness giving way to anger. ‘You had no right to
touch my stuff.’
Sheridan had anticipated her annoyance. After all,
you can only bend a branch so far until it snaps. She had
learned that with Kelly. She would not make the same
mistake again.
‘Here, have it. It’s fully charged. Unlike you, I own
a travel plug.’ She threw the phone towards her and it
skittered across the wooden floor. She watched with some
satisfaction as Roz frantically tried to turn it on.
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‘You’ve taken out the SIM.’
‘Of course.’ Sheridan folded her arms. ‘I presume
Dympna was the girl pictured with you in the nightclub
– the one with the red hair?’
Sheridan. ‘I … I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
But her face relayed a different story.
‘I have to admit – you reeled me in with that good-girl
act.’ Sheridan’s face hardened. ‘Who else knows you’re
here?’
‘Nobody. I’ve stuck to my side of the agreement. But
you’ll know that because you’ve read my texts.’
Sheridan delivered a wry smile. Roz was getting to
know her well.
‘What have you done with my passport? And my
clothes…’ A sob rose in Roz’s throat. ‘I’ve had enough.
I want to go home.’
‘I locked your passport away for safe keeping,’ Sheridan
replied, unmoved by her outburst.
‘I’m going.’ Roz slipped back on her shoes. ‘With or
without my passport. You owe me money. I’ll go to the
Irish embassy if you don’t pay up.’
‘Honey, until you give me my baby, you’re not get-
ting a dime.’
‘She’s not your baby, she’s mine!’ Roz screamed.
A sharp laugh escaped Sheridan’s lips. ‘Oh, you poor
deluded thing. You really think you can be a mother to
your child?’ Shaking her head, she observed Roz with
disdain. ‘You’re a loser. A pitiful nobody without a penny
to your name.’
Tears brimmed in Roz’s eyes as her words hit home.
‘Your mother’s an alcoholic. Your father
doesn’t want
to know you…’
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‘Don’t…’ Roz clutched her belly, as if to shield the
baby from her tirade. But Sheridan continued, each word
as sharp as a knife.
‘You had a job cleaning hotel rooms and you couldn’t
even keep that. You’re talentless – your pictures are me-
diocre at best. Face it, Roz, this is as good as it gets. I wouldn’t trust you with a hamster.’
‘You…’ Roz faltered. ‘You can’t stop me. I’m going
home.’
Sheridan’s eyes locked on to Roz. Sliding her hand into
her pocket, she carefully palmed the item within. She had
guessed Roz could react badly and there was no way she
was letting her leave. But the last thing she wanted was a
physical altercation with the pregnant woman in her care.
Sheridan tilted her head, giving an ice-cold smile. ‘You
came from such humble beginnings, yet you demand so
much. What more do you want?’
‘My freedom,’ Roz sniffled, edging towards the lift.
‘I can’t stand it down here. You’ve got to let me out.’
Sheridan side-stepped in front of her. ‘And risk you
bumping into Leo? I don’t think so. What if he tells his
schoolfriends?’
‘Then please, let me stay somewhere nearby. You don’t
need to keep me here.’
‘But I do. You said yourself, you’ve no intention of
giving me the baby.’ Sheridan’s eyes were like flints as
she glared. ‘Don’t you realise? You’ve signed your rights
away. She’s mine.’
‘I’m going and you can’t stop me,’ Roz said, trying
to dodge around her.
Sliding the syringe from her pocket, Sheridan blocked
her path. ‘It’s just a sedative. It won’t hurt the baby.’
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‘Ow!’ Roz cried, bending over in pain as Sheridan
approached.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Sheridan watched with
horror as Roz struggled to breathe. She hadn’t even
touched her yet.
‘It’s the baby,’ Roz gasped. ‘I’ve been getting pains all
day. I think something’s wrong…’
‘No. It’s too early.’ Pocketing the syringe, Sheridan
leaned forward, lowering to one knee. ‘Where does it
hurt?’
But Sheridan’s question was answered by a sharp elbow
to the face. Blinding white pain accompanied starbursts
in her vision as she fell back on the floor. A howl escaped her lips as she fought to stem the blood spurting from her