Page 87 of Deep Blue Lies

EIGHTY-SIX

Sophia goes outside and tells the taxi we don’t need it after all.

She asks the driver to say that it was just me here, in case Mum asks, and then I text her.

I tell her it took me longer than expected to sort out the apartment, and it’s easier to sleep here tonight.

I’m just playing for time really. She comes back to me right away, and I sense the suspicion under her words.

She tells me she’s finished at the airport now, and she can come pick me up herself.

It’s obvious now, she just wants to keep an eye on me.

I text back again, telling her it’s fine, that I’m just really tired and I’m already in bed.

This seems to work, since she doesn’t reply.

Then Gregory leaves. We exchange numbers first so we can contact each other, and I promise to tell him what I’m going to do once I’ve figured it out. If I ever figure it out. And then Sophia and I sit and talk.

The first thing is this: It’s obvious that Gregory was telling the truth.

But maybe it’s not so obvious that Imogen was.

There’s not a lot of me that believes this, but it is possible that Imogen really was just full-on crazy, maybe from her medication or maybe just because she was nuts underneath it, and she imagined this whole thing.

But it’s only a small part of me that’s holding onto this, and maybe I really don’t believe it at all .

That leads to the second thing. Assuming all this is true, assuming that I really was brought up by a killer, a woman who could do these horrible things, then where does that leave me?

Why did she adopt me, and how? Was she actually telling me the truth when she said she didn’t know who my real parents were?

And why did she adopt me at all, since it’s never really felt like she loved me?

There’s still so many questions, so many answers that I don’t have.

And the time is ticking away. My flight tomorrow leaves at six in the evening and I’ll need to check in before that.

We’ll need to check in before that – if I’m going back to England with Mum, that is.

Or whatever I now have to call this woman.

And if I’m not going back to England with her, then I’m going to have to explain to her why not. And she’s going to know that I know.

We discuss going to the police. But Duncan’s right.

With no proof at all, of any of this, all we have is his word that Imogen said all this.

We even phone Duncan again, asking if he will go to the police if that’s an option, but he refuses point blank.

He says that if we tell the police what he’s told us he’ll deny everything, because all it will do is set Karen against him, and he’s scared of what she might do. So that route’s out of the question.

Midnight comes and goes, then I notice the clock on my mobile says it’s past two in the morning and I still have no idea what I’m going to do.

But by three o’clock we do have something that you might call a plan.

Or maybe it’s not, maybe it’s just a desperate idea because we have to do something, and we’re running out of time.

We stay up past four in the end, going over the idea again and again, trying to think through everything we’re going to need, assess whether it has any chance of working.

And then, with the light of dawn already showing through the windows outside, I go to sleep for a couple of hours.

Because I’m going to need to be ready for this.