‘I can’t…’ Sheridan gave a heavy sigh as she recalled
the reason for her niggling doubt. ‘I covered it up on
Miracle-Moms, made it look like I backed out of our deal.’
She explained how she’d said she was pregnant, and
had then written a reply from Roz’s username saying she
would look for parents elsewhere in New York. ‘What
a mess.’
‘No,’ Mike replied, his hand snaking around her shoul-
der. ‘That makes it easier.’
‘How?’ Sheridan’s stomach knotted at the prospect
of what they were about to do. She felt like she was in a
maze and the walls were closing in.
‘Roz running away with the baby can be plan B, if the
cops can prove without a doubt that you held her there.
They’ll get you for lying, possibly kidnapping, but you
can say you had a change of heart and decided to let her
go.’ He rubbed his bristled chin. ‘You got away with Leo.
There’s no reason you can’t do it again…’ He paused to
gather his thoughts. ‘OK, plan A: say that you backed out
of the arrangement because you fell pregnant. Pretend
Roz’s baby is your own. You’ll have to move fast.’
‘But wouldn’t the police want proof that I’ve given
birth?’
‘Tell them you had a home birth. Get your best
lawyer on board. They can’t force you to be physically
examined – they won’t have enough justification, for a start.’
Sheridan nodded. That made more sense.
‘After the baby’s born, go to Alaska with your family.
Disappear for six months. When the coast is clear, come
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back and do a big promo shoot with the baby. It’ll be a
whole new side-line for you … if that’s what you want.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If you can cope with what you’ve done.’
Sheridan could cope. Already, her mind was racing
with plans. It could be just like when Bouncer, her dog,
died on TV. She remembered how her career had taken
off after that. A change in direction refreshed everything.
Any lingering doubts dissipated in her mind.
‘Yes,’ she said, with a renewed sense of determina-
tion. ‘I’ll do it. Get what you need – we’ll plan it for next week, when Daniel is away.’
‘Leave it to me,’ Mike replied. ‘Then I’ll get that place
cleaned up, get rid of the bodies. Make it look like those
gals never stepped foot inside.’
‘How?’ she asked, uttering the question that made her
stomach churn. ‘How are you going to get rid of her?’
They both knew she was talking about Roz.
‘Remember Ginger?’
Sheridan nodded, her face grim. Ginger was Mike’s
favourite horse in the stables they both attended in their
teens. Galloping over some scrub, Ginger had taken a
tumble and broken his leg. The vet was called, and the
horse was put down. ‘Quick and painless,’ Mike continued.
Sheridan raised her palm to stop him. She didn’t want
to hear any more.
His hand returned to her shoulder. ‘But we’re not talk-
ing about a horse, so you’ve got to make it worthwhile.
After this, we won’t see each other again.’
‘I know,’ Sheridan replied.
‘And you’ll keep your promise. I’m only asking for
what we both want.’
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‘Of course,’ Sheridan said, resting her hand on his knee.
She knew there was no getting out of it, and Daniel had
given her the green light. ‘Give him whatever he wants,’
he’d said. He wasn’t talking about money.
She needed Mike to stay loyal. She had kept him hang-
ing on long enough. She exhaled a breath as his fingers
pulled down her zipper. Then she stood and peeled off
her dress.
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CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Roz
‘Everything OK?’ Sheridan asked, watching each mouth-
ful I consumed.
I nodded, tucking into my cream-laden chocolate cake.
The strain of the last few weeks had carved dark shadows
under my eyes. Sheridan had been apologetic, assuring
me she wanted to make up for all the stress.
‘Eat,’ she’d said. ‘You’ll need all your strength for the
baby.’
But I viewed each kind action with mistrust. I felt
like a pig being fattened for the slaughter rather than the recipient of genuine concern.
My suspicions aside, it was good to taste comfort food
again. A couple of days of eating unhealthily would not
do the baby any harm. Besides, it was not my diet that
was worrying me, it was Sheridan’s behaviour. I had not
seen Daniel since we almost had sex. Did Sheridan know
about what had gone on? She had told me I was there for
both of them, which I found increasingly odd. I could
not comprehend why someone as successful as Sheridan
would want to share her husband. Such questions kept
me awake long into the night as I lay, anxious and lonely,
in my bed.
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I sipped the vanilla milkshake, which tasted like heaven
on my tongue.
‘This is lovely, thank you,’ I said, grateful for her
kindness.
It was made all the nicer by the fact that I was having
it upstairs in Sheridan’s home. Our schedule had been
abandoned. It was so out of keeping with how she’d
treated me before; she was impossible to second-guess. I
watched as Sheridan sprayed the table in OCD fashion,
wiping over everything I touched. There was no sign
of her entourage, and I’d overheard her saying that she
had sent Leo and the nanny to a luxury pony camp for
the week. A sudden thought brought a cold slice of fear.
Convicts on death row got to choose their last meal,
didn’t they?
I’d had Braxton Hicks contractions every day this
week. Time was running out for me. Sheridan had not
asked how I was feeling. She had distanced herself in a
way that unnerved me.
‘I want to tell you something.’ She pulled her chair
closer to the table as I finished off my cake. ‘It’s good
news,’ she added, taking in my worried expression.
She opened her blazer, slipped a piece of paper from
the inside pocket and slid it across the table. Slowly, my
fingers crept towards it, my heart pounding as I scanned
the writing. A barcode. A flight number. I held my breath.
An airline ticket for a first-class flight to Dublin airport
… and it was assigned to me. I stared in disbelief, not
daring to speak for fear of breaking the spell. My name
on a British Airways flight home to Dublin. I traced my
fingers over the print, tears springing to my eyes. It wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be real.
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‘It’s a flight home for after the baby is born.’ A smile
carried on Sheridan’s words. ‘Go ahead, pick it up. It’s
yours.’
&nb
sp; I struggled to swallow. My chest felt tight with grief
for my hometown. I had genuinely believed I would never
see it again. I thought about my baby, the little girl she
wanted me to leave behind. Was Sheridan really ready to
let me go? But surely I had to stay and fight for my child?
‘I didn’t book a seat for the baby,’ Sheridan said.
‘Because you’ll be carrying her in your arms.’
‘What?’ I said, finding my voice. I slid my hand into
my dress pocket and pulled out a tissue to dab my tears.
My chin wobbled as part of me collapsed inside. I had
built a wall to protect myself. Dare I believe my baby and
I were going home?
‘Daniel’s going to be offered the part of the new
James Bond,’ Sheridan explained. ‘It’ll mean being on
location in Alaska. I’m moving out there with Leo to be
with him.’ She flicked back her hair before delivering a
winning smile. ‘Happy?’
‘Happy?’ I blinked away my tears. ‘Yes! So happy!’ I
felt like hugging her, but months of ingrained mistrust
kept me firmly in my chair.
‘It’s obvious you love your baby. It would be wrong
for us to keep you apart.’ Sheridan’s smile seemed frozen
on her face as she gushed. She stood, gesturing at me to
rise. It was just like the early days, when I first arrived.
‘Why don’t we talk things through?’
It was strange, walking ahead of her to the living
room. I felt like I was walking on clouds, but any mo-
ment I could go into freefall. Surely she wanted my baby
too much to let her go? From the corner of my eye, I saw
her pocket her phone from where she had left it on the
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sideboard. Had she been recording our conversation? It
would explain why she was being so sickly-sweet.
I sat as instructed on the sofa, watching Sheridan’s
features grow stony as she relayed the terms and condi-
tions of our deal. I rubbed my arms, goose bumps rising
on my skin. Spring sunlight sliced through the half-closed
curtains, and I was dying to peek outside. I strained to
hear traffic, passing music, signs of everyday life. Apart
from hearing muffled voices above, life in my basement
flat was like existing in a void.
I tuned into Sheridan’s narrative as she took a seat in
the armchair across from me. It was a leather wingback;
Daniel’s chair. I remembered him sitting there, staring into the flames as Sheridan threw the prayer book my way. Not
once had he properly acknowledged what she had done.
‘Roz. Are you listening?’ Sheridan’s voice cut sharply
into my thoughts. My head was all over the place, half-
euphoric, half-paralysed with fear.
‘You were going through the conditions,’ I responded.
Clenching my fingers, I resisted the urge to nibble my
nails. Even my toes were curled within the confines of
my slip-on shoes.
‘In a nutshell, we give up all rights to the baby and
you forget you’ve been here.’
I nodded profusely. I would have sold her my soul if
it meant taking my little bean home.
‘Not one word to the police, to journalists or Kelly’s
family. Speak about us and we’ll tear your life apart. Am
I coming through loud and clear?’
‘Yes, totally.’ I cleared my throat. ‘I won’t breathe a
word, I promise … on my baby’s life.’
My baby. I could have cried with relief. I was so grateful to be going home. I would never complain about my
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lot again. I thought about seeing my mother, imagined
Dympna’s face when I walked in through the door. There
was nothing I couldn’t overcome, as long as I made it to
my home soil.
‘Can’t I go now?’ I said, ready to take a flight in the
next hour if one became available.
‘There are rules about flying this late in your preg-
nancy. We can’t afford to draw attention to you.’
It made sense, but I was desperate to get away before
she changed her mind. ‘If you dropped me off at a hos-
pital, I could have the baby there…’
‘Honestly, Roz, is this the thanks I get?’ Sheridan
snapped. ‘You can’t just walk in from the street. We’ve got Leo to think about. I need time to put things into place.
We have to be ready should this blow up in our face.’
‘Sorry … It won’t. I swear. I won’t let you down.’
But she was standing before me now, her face pinched.
‘I’ll stop at nothing to keep my family together. But then
you know that, given what you saw in the basement.’
A chill ran through my body as I absorbed the implica-
tion of her words. She’d said Kelly’s death was an accident, but now I was not so sure. She was letting me go. That
was all that mattered. I had damaged their marriage and
she was taking time out to plaster over the cracks.
‘It will be as if I was never here,’ I promised, gasping
as my baby delivered a kick. Could she feel my growing
excitement? I watched as Sheridan moved to place her hand
on my tummy, then freeze before drawing it away. Was
she really letting us go? That was why she was cleaning
the surfaces after I touched them. She was wiping away
all traces of me.
‘What about your pregnancy?’ I asked, thinking of
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my DNA. Had she done that with Kelly? Had she told
her she was sending her home?
‘Let me worry about that. Just … just be happy, Roz.
You’re going home.’
Home. The word carried so much promise. I offered
her a smile in response. But there was something behind
her eyes that betrayed her. I looked away, not wanting to
see it. I could not contemplate anything, except seeing
my friends and family again.
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CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Roz
June 2019
‘You’re nearly twenty inches long now,’ I said to my baby
as I tried to distract myself from the pain. ‘You can hear
my voice.’ I paused to inhale a slow breath as the pain
in my back increased. ‘And at thirty-eight weeks, you’re
almost ready to be born … ooh.’ In through my nose, out through my mouth … inhale … release … Exhaling a low moan, I practised the slow breaths recommended in my
pregnancy book. I rubbed my rock-hard stomach, clutch-
ing it as I paced. The fabric of my T-shirt was being tested beyond its limits. I could not bear to wear Kelly’s clothes for another day and was grateful that Sheridan had allowed
me to have some of my old stuff back. My grey tracksuit
bottoms still fitted me, sitting snugly beneath my bump.
I’d tied my hair into a ponytail, desperate to get it off my face. Braxton Hicks contractions were hitting me with
a vengeance. I had been getting them for weeks now,
but today the band of pain around my stomach took my
breath away. It was too early to go into labour, wasn’t it? I wasn’t due for anothe
r two weeks. But how could I notify
Sheridan when I couldn’t use the lift? I couldn’t believe
I had the plane ticket, which I clutched to my chest each
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The Perfect Mother
night. From the movement above me, I gathered that
Daniel had left. I had not seen him since our evening
together, and he had neglected to say goodbye. Trying to
second-guess the couple above me was driving me insane.
Sheridan’s need for my baby was still strong. I could see
it in the way she looked at me, how she monitored my
kick chart, scrutinised each and every test.
The pain in my stomach ebbed away. It was as powerful
as a rising tide. Daniel leaving always felt like a prequel to something bad – I was vulnerable when he wasn’t
around. Listening at the air vent, I had figured out he’d
gone on a work trip. Sheridan had kept her voice low as
she said her goodbyes.
‘Everything will be sorted by the time you get back,’
she’d told him, as Daniel said something about Mike. The
mention of his name had sent me into a tailspin. This
was the man who had dug up Kelly’s corpse as if it meant
nothing to him. Were they finally disposing of her body?
The thoughts of her lying in the room next door had
kept me awake for weeks. Kelly was the reason I found
it hard to accept that Sheridan was letting me go. If only
I hadn’t seen her. What possessed me to blow my only
chance of escape? I imagined her mother, still looking at
her front door, waiting for her daughter to walk in. That
could be my mother soon.
The heating pipes rattled into life, making me jump.
If I managed to get back home, I would call the police
and tell them about Kelly. She deserved a decent burial
and her family needed peace. I was not the type of per-
son who could let that go. The trouble was, Sheridan
knew that. Would they really jeopardise everything by
setting me free?
‘Ashling,’ I said to my bump. ‘Your name is Ashling.’
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Caroline Mitchell
By naming my baby I was making her real. She was
mine, and I needed to hold onto that with both hands.
Nothing was separating us, and nobody was taking her
away.
My stomach tightened as another band of pain wrapped
itself around me. The pain was worsening. Why did it
feel like a clock ticking down?
Was that what it had been like for Kelly? Thoughts of