Within five minutes Ruby had released the ropes, Sam had fired up the engine, and they were traveling. Although they weren’t going very quickly, she felt safer on the move, in the boat with her old friend. As they chugged serenely along the waterways, her heart slowed, and she smiled a little to herself. She realized she was in the strange position of being relieved that the police were after her. Compared to the fear she’d had over the past few days, the terrible knowledge that Gregor would surely track her down, being wanted by the police was frankly a much lesser threat. She’d witnessed what that man was capable of, how strong he was, how relentless. And worse: how charming, how plausible. Her relief was cautious, however. Now that she’d tricked him and wronged him, and helped to take away both Constance and his precious daughter, she was in no doubt: whether discovered unconscious or not, if Gregor was still alive, one day he’d find a way to get to her.

CHAPTER

42

NOW

Joanna

Tuesday, December 25

SHE’D MESSAGED AHEAD of time, but Marianne still pretended not to understand the situation when Jo arrived.

“What, you’re not staying?”

“No, Mum. I told you. I’ve got to work.”

It was just after nine AM. Her mother had opened the front door, holding a champagne glass that she sipped at anxiously. Today was supposed to be the one day of the year on which morning drinking was acceptable, yet Joanna couldn’t help but glance judgmentally at the beverage. Her mother noticed her looking and smiled. “Would you like a drink? Little festive drinkie-poo?”

“No, thanks, Mum. I can’t turn up smelling of booze. Even today.”

“Champagne is not booze, sweetie. It’s virtually pop.”

Jo tried not to make any comment, but she was aware that her lips were pressed together in irritation. Marianne took a sip of the pale liquid and looked around as if she’d forgotten something. “Where’s lovely Amy?”

“We’re on a break.”

“Oh, darling,” said her mother, “I’m so sorry.”

Her mother didn’t look sorry, not in the slightest. She’d never fully approved of Amy. Joanna remembered the time her mother had complained that Amy laughed too loudly.

“What’s wrong with that?” Jo had asked.

“Well, if you like that sort of thing, it’s fine,” her mother had replied. “Seems a little, I don’t know. Brash.”

Jo hadn’t forgotten that comment—probably never would—but Marianne had, almost instantly. The conversation had taken place rather too late at night, and although her mother was adept at hiding how drunk she was, especially on the phone, Joanna had had years of training in spotting the signs. That had been a two-pints-of-vodka sort of an evening. Sober Marianne would absolutely never have made such a remark, but knowing that didn’t make it any easier to forgive her.