The Ex-Boyfriend: A completely addictive and shocking psychological thriller Page 7

  A few weeks later, when she discovered she was pregnant, she knew that her life had taken a sudden turn that couldn’t be reversed. Those dreams of settling in Australia had evaporated like a puddle on a sunny day.

  Becca was keeping the baby, of that she was sure, because having a child of her own to love and nurture was something she desperately wanted.

  ‘It’s my fault,’ she told Dean as they walked along the beach after she’d broken the news. ‘I’m on the pill but it’s been a bit hit and miss since I’ve been home, what with everything…’ She looked away, feeling foolish, a woman of twenty-eight – and a nurse, at that – making such a stupid mistake.

  ‘It can’t just be your fault, can it?’ Dean said, pulling her to a halt. He wrapped her in his arms. ‘I could have taken precautions. Should have taken precautions.’ He kissed the top of her head, laid his cheek on her hair, and she could feel his warm breath against her scalp, his strong arms encircling her, holding her tight. She sank into his embrace.

  ‘It’s okay, though,’ she mumbled into his chest. ‘I don’t expect you to get involved. This is my choice.’ She bit her lip, emotions filling her throat, and it was a moment before she could trust herself to speak. ‘It’s something I’ve wanted for a while.’

  ‘Well, let’s not be hasty,’ Dean urged. ‘Let’s see how it goes, shall we? And whatever happens, I will support you and the baby however you want that to be, okay?’

  She burst into tears then because he was being so kind and reasonable, and she’d thought he’d be horrified. At least she knew she didn’t have to face the challenge alone, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Connor what was happening. Anyway, perhaps she didn’t have to, she reassured herself. He wasn’t communicating with her, so presumably, from his point of view, their relationship had ended.

  Over the weeks, nothing went according to plan.

  She focused on her unborn baby and caring for her dad, wondering how she was going to tell him that she’d conceived a child on the night of her mother’s funeral. Did she need to tell him? The very thought of it brought her out in a cold sweat. She put it off, waiting for the right moment.

  The one thing that she hadn’t anticipated was for Dean to be so excited about being a dad. Apparently, since childhood he’d always loved babies. He bought her books, discussed everything about pregnancy with her and never seemed to get bored of the subject. And because she couldn’t tell anyone else what was happening, she spent more and more time with him. Instead of breaking their budding relationship, her pregnancy encouraged it to blossom. She loved his enthusiasm, but did she love him? She allowed herself to believe that she might and pushed all thoughts of Connor out of her mind.

  Dean spoiled her, buying her all sorts of healthcare products. He’d surprise her with baby clothes. He decorated the spare bedroom in his flat as a nursery. Bought a cot so he could have the baby to stay, determined to play an active part in their child’s life. He didn’t need asking; he was always one step ahead, and she loved the way it allowed her to feel excited about having a child, rather than ashamed about how the baby had been conceived. She felt treasured and special and not a burden at all. He even made lists of baby names. He was everything any prospective mother could ask for in a partner.

  When she was four months pregnant, she finally summoned the courage to tell her dad and Kate about the baby. Frank threw an almighty fit, told her she had to go; he couldn’t have her in his house after she’d been so disrespectful to her mother’s memory. Imagine conceiving on the day of the funeral! Kate was just as incensed. Becca realised she could have kept some of the facts to herself, but she was an inherently honest person and it had all come out before she’d really thought about editing the truth a little.

  In tears, she called Dean, who came and helped her pack up her belongings, and, having no job or money to rent a place of her own, she moved in with him. Once it was done, it felt so right for them to be together, in their little bubble of baby anticipation. It seemed like the obvious thing to do. Two weeks later, she had a miscarriage.

  Was moving in with Dean the right decision? she asked herself now as she pushed Mia on the swings. Had they stayed together because they both desperately wanted a child? They’d certainly been focused on trying again. And again. And again. She’d had a whole series of tests, to make sure there weren’t underlying problems, but it seemed it was just bad luck and never once did Dean suggest they should stop trying.

  He’d supported her all the way, his desire for a family as strong as hers, and their bond had been strengthened by adversity. When she’d been pregnant with Mia, she’d suffered nine months of fear rather than joyful anticipation, wondering if her body was going to reject this baby as well. That was why Mia was so precious to her – to both of them. It had been the focus of their whole relationship.

  A moment of clarity made her stop pushing Mia. Was marrying Dean more about having a baby than love?

  She gave herself a mental shake. Don’t be ridiculous! She reminded herself of a truth she had never before questioned. I love Dean. She summoned his image, made it blot out Connor’s face in her mind, tracing the features that she knew so well. Yet, there was a distance between them that had seemed to grow since Mia was born. The end of the struggle to have a baby had opened into a new chapter that was completely different. Mia was undoubtedly the centre of Becca’s world, but was Mia the centre of Dean’s? It seemed that the excitement of growing his business was more important than spending time with his daughter, and that bothered her. Perhaps family life isn’t shaping up quite the way he’d imagined in his dreams. Then the big question reared its monstrous head. Does he still love me?

  10

  ‘Becca! Becca!’

  The call of her name made Becca turn to see Ruth hurrying towards them, her long limbs striding across the playground. She was a gangly woman, with a prominent beak of a nose, and she reminded Becca of a wading bird, her movements measured, her demeanour observant, always watching, alert to her surroundings.

  ‘Hi, Ruth, we were just about to head off. Last go on the swings for madam here. She wasn’t well last night, so I want her to take it easy today.’

  Ruth tutted. ‘Oh, dear, poor mite.’

  ‘I don’t suppose either of the other two children you look after have been poorly, have they? The doctor thinks it’s probably just a virus, but I’m not sure.’

  Ruth shook her head. ‘No. Not that I know of.’ She studied Mia, who was swinging backwards and forwards, legs kicking. ‘Still, seems like she’s got over it if she wants to play.’

  Becca looked at her daughter’s grinning face as she swung up in the air and back again. She’d stay on the swings for hours if Becca was willing to push, and it usually took an element of bribery to get her to come off the thing without a fight. She didn’t want to do that with Ruth there, though; didn’t want her to see that she seemed to have a discipline problem with Mia where Ruth appeared to have none.

  She carried on pushing. Ruth shifted her weight from one foot to the other, pulling her fleece jacket tighter around her thin frame. There was always a breeze by the beach, and today it was blowing from the north, bringing an unseasonal freshness to the first day of June.

  ‘I had my emergency appointment with the consultant this morning. Thought I’d have a walk, clear my head, you know, and then I saw you in the playground. And… God, I just need to talk to someone.’ Ruth’s eyes were shining.

  Becca readied herself for bad news as their eyes met.

  ‘They made a mistake. Can you believe it? Got my mammogram mixed up with somebody else’s. I haven’t got breast cancer at all!’

  Becca stopped pushing the swing, her mouth agape. ‘Oh my God, Ruth, that’s fantastic news.’

  Tears were rolling down Ruth’s face now, and she wiped them away with her fingers, gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘Oh, don’t mind me, I’m being stupid, but I just can’t tell you… the relief!’

  Instinctively, Becca gave Ruth
a hug, delighted to hear her good news. ‘How awful that you’ve been put through that, though.’

  Ruth laughed while the tears kept coming. ‘Oh, they couldn’t have been more apologetic. It’s fine, I know these things happen. But I honestly thought I was going to die.’ She pulled back and a shadow crossed her face, the smile falling from her lips. She was silent for a moment, her eyes on Mia. ‘I was planning how I’d wind up everything, you know. I even wrote a will.’ She turned to Becca. ‘I should probably tell you about that, actually. I have no family, as you know. And Mia is very special to me.’ She beamed at Mia, who had her face turned to the sky, her blonde curls flying in the breeze. ‘There have been a few children over the years that I’ve really bonded with. Quite a list, actually. I’ve loved them like my own, and I was going to leave them all a little bit of money. Just to help with university fees, or whatever else they might need a nest egg for. I mean, I don’t have much, and I wanted to give some to Friends of the Earth and World Wildlife Fund and Save the Children. But I very much want Mia to have a little something from me when I’m gone.’ Ruth’s eyes met Becca’s. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

  Becca took a moment to digest what Ruth had said, wondering why she felt uncomfortable. Is that weird?

  ‘Oh no, Ruth, I couldn’t let you do that,’ she gabbled after an awkward silence. ‘Surely you have some relatives, somewhere?’

  Ruth shook her head. ‘Unfortunately not. I’m an only child of only children. Neither of my parents had siblings. It was always just us.’ She watched the restless sea for a moment. ‘I would have liked brothers and sisters. It was a very quiet childhood. That’s why I became a childminder. I love to hear them and play with them.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘I suppose I’m catching up on all the noise I would have liked as a child. It’s a great sadness I couldn’t have my own. That’s why my marriage didn’t last, you know.’

  Becca didn’t know but had always wondered why someone who was so good with children didn’t have a family. She’d guessed, but if there was anything she’d learnt from nursing, it was that you never knew what was happening in other people’s lives.

  Ruth’s words latched on to her previous train of thought, dragging it back into focus. Would our marriage have survived another miscarriage? She shooed the question away, appalled that she’d even considered it.

  ‘Siblings can be overrated,’ Becca said, ushering her thoughts in a new direction, remembering the way she and Kate used to fight when they were growing up. Right up until a few years ago, if she was honest. Thankfully, it was different now and their relationship had become much more supportive once Kate had suffered a few knockbacks and the hard edges had softened slightly. She wasn’t quite so black-and-white about everything these days.

  Mia had changed the family dynamic, giving them something new to focus on, a distraction from their grief at her mum dying and recriminations about disrespectful behaviour. She’d helped them to put all the nastiness behind them and move on, and for that Becca was grateful. Kate was adamant that she didn’t want her own children, preferring the role of aunt, and although she was happy to babysit Mia every now and again, Frank was Mia’s favourite. He was playful and patient, qualities that weren’t so visible in Kate.

  Imagine having nobody in your life. Becca wanted to think that Mia wasn’t missing out by not having a brother or sister, because having another child seemed very unlikely after the trouble she’d had conceiving Mia. She hoped Mia wouldn’t end up lonely and on her own like Ruth.

  With a start, Becca recognised that her comment about siblings was insensitive. ‘Shall we go and get a coffee? I know someone who’d enjoy a hot chocolate.’

  Her daughter heard and swung her head round, staring at Becca before trying to wriggle out of the swing.

  Ruth beamed at Mia and went to lift her from the seat. ‘That’s a lovely idea,’ she said, giving Mia a kiss on the cheek.

  Becca hadn’t noticed before how Ruth looked at Mia, the genuine love in her eyes, but she could see it now and there was something about it that made her uneasy.

  Ruth held on to Mia’s hand as she put her on the ground, and Becca went to pick up her bag from the seat, following behind the two of them, Ruth’s words still rubbing like sandpaper on her mind. Was Ruth too attached to Mia? Or was it a good thing she felt such a strong bond if she was responsible for looking after her three mornings a week?

  Becca filed the thought away with all her other uncertainties and made herself focus on the positive: her childcare problem had been resolved. Now she wondered about her dad coming to stay. Surely that’s no longer necessary? And she’d feel a lot less tense if he didn’t come.

  Ever since their big fallout, after the truth had come out about where she’d disappeared to on the day of her mum’s funeral, Frank had kept his distance from Dean. Relations between them had been prickly. Dean thought Frank was jealous and – still, a decade later – struggling to let his daughter go, especially now his wife was dead. Becca thought he might be right, but the truth was the two men could hardly be left in the same room together without bickering about something. She’d only accepted Kate’s suggestion of Frank coming to stay because she knew Dean would be away, and she had felt guilty about not going over to see him often enough. She’d thought it might be a chance for her and Frank to have a proper chat.

  Frank was the one who’d understood what she’d gone through when the hospital had suspended her. He was the one who’d sought treatment for her mental health problems, whereas her mum had gone with a tough love approach. A ‘snap out of it’ sort of tactic.

  Becca decided to stick with plan A. Frank coming over was a positive thing, and anyway, it was all organised. Plus Kate would feel more relaxed at her meeting if she knew Frank was with Becca and not on his own, and she really did owe her sister that.

  Flipping her thoughts back to the present, Becca shivered in the cool breeze, wishing she’d thought to put on an extra layer. The coffee shop was a short walk into town, five minutes if she was on her own, but double that if Mia wanted to walk. ‘I’ll get her in her buggy,’ she said to Ruth when she caught up with them at the entrance to the playground. ‘Then we can make a dash for it, get out of the cold. What’s up with this weather?’

  Ruth bent down to speak to Mia. ‘What do you think? Are you tired or do you want to walk?’

  Of course she wanted to walk. She always did, which was why Becca usually made the choice for her rather than asking, with some diversionary tactic in place to halt any protests. Becca was about to say something then decided it wasn’t worth an argument. Mia was clearly delighted to see Ruth and was merrily chattering away to her, telling her about all the new toys she’d found at Grandad’s house. Her unicorn was her new prized possession and she was telling Ruth how it had been sick the night before and had to go in the bath.

  ‘Dad found all my old Beanie Babies in a box. Remember them?’

  Ruth rolled her eyes. ‘Oh my goodness, yes. They were all the rage, weren’t they? Collectors’ items if I remember rightly.’

  They walked along at Mia’s speed, a tricky pace to maintain and another reason why Becca liked to have her in the buggy. ‘Not mine.’ Becca laughed. ‘They’re all battered. Had adventurous lives, those little creatures. I remember having picnics with them outside. Rosie and I used to—’ A sudden rush of emotion blocked her throat, and it was a moment before she could carry on, eyes on the pavement. ‘Let’s just say they’re well played with.’

  ‘All the best toys are. And that’s a very lovely unicorn, Mia. What’s it called, and is it a boy or a girl?’

  ‘It’s called Peppa. Like Peppa Pig. But it’s not a pig. And it’s a girl, like me.’

  Ruth nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. She gave Becca a wink. ‘Good name.’

  Finally, they arrived at the coffee shop, which was on the main road that led from West Shore right across town to the beach on the northern side of Llandudno. It was a wide avenue with trees in the middl
e and broad pavements, the houses petering out to be replaced with hotels and ornate Victorian shopping arcades.

  Becca made sure she kept to the outside of the pavement and Mia stayed between her and Ruth, so she could grab her if she slipped from Ruth’s grasp. Stop being so paranoid, she admonished herself, her body jerking in a reflex response, ready to grab her daughter every time she thought she might be about to run off. She was so on edge these days, her pulse racing at the slightest thing, and she seemed to exist in a permanent adrenaline rush.

  Her phone pinged with a message. Connor? Her hand instinctively went to her pocket and she stopped for a moment, pulled out her phone while Ruth walked ahead. She took a quick peek, heart racing with a delicious thrill of expectation. But it wasn’t Connor; it was Dean.

  Forgot to mention, Wi-Fi might be a bit hit and miss this weekend, so could be hard to chat. That’s the Highlands for you! You can always call hotel reception in an emergency. See you Monday x

  She frowned, didn’t bother with a reply and stuffed her phone back in her pocket. What if Mia was ill again and she couldn’t reach him? But then, in reality, what use would he be hundreds of miles away? At least she’d have Frank with her, and that made her feel better about him coming to stay.

  ‘Problem?’ Ruth asked when Becca caught up with her a few moments later.

  ‘Typical Dean.’ She sighed. ‘He’s off to Scotland for the weekend and he’s just messaged me to say it might be hard to get hold of him.’ Handy, she thought to herself, that he doesn’t have to think about us for a few days. Is he thinking about somebody else maybe?

  ‘He called me Alice this morning.’ She spoke her thoughts and instantly regretted it when she saw the expression on Ruth’s face. There were going to be questions now, and she gave what she hoped was a dismissive laugh, like she didn’t care. ‘He’s so busy, he thinks I’m his business partner half the time.’