After the boys have had their breakfast and allowing them some time in the gaming room, I sit on the sofa watching Romy, together at last with her mum and granny. I feel almost as though I’m intruding on the wonderful love they all have for each other, denied for so long.
‘Darcy, look!’ Romy holds up the beaded bracelet she’s making.
‘That’s beautiful, sweetie. Well done!’
She beams, her cheeks ruddy and her eyes bright.
She’s a different child since she’s been reunited with her mother. She never knew what was happening behind the scenes, of course, never knew her daddy was responsible for the greatest sadness in her life: the death of her twin, Esther. But children can sense danger and tension in the air and it had always been around her as George blackmailed Opal and constantly held Romy as ransom to control her.
We’re all living in George’s house for now. Sounds a strange arrangement, I know, but I have more in common with these two women than some people have who’ve known each other for years. I feel relaxed in their presence.
We’ve all been controlled by George, we’re all dealing with our own guilt as we ask ourselves the same question every day: Why didn’t I see through him from the start?
But we’re finding strength in each other. None of us are stupid people but George was an outstanding pathological liar.
Living here in the house is the easiest solution for a number of reasons. Myself and the boys were effectively homeless having left our own rented home to move in with George. We did so weeks before the terrible events, as we’ve come to refer to the day when Harrison was abducted and George died. I couldn’t turn to Joel’s family for support when they were fighting to get custody of my sons and that was before I found out that George had helped them in their quest.
But the biggest reason for keeping the status quo is for Romy’s sake. She’s only ever known this house as her home and been through such already in her short life. Her daddy has died – although for now she thinks he’s gone away for a while – and although she loves Maria, she thinks of her as the housekeeper and has only known her mother, Opal, as Maria’s friend.
Living here has also meant we’ve been able to talk everything through together… and boy, has there been a lot to talk about. I’m still amazed that the woman George set me up to think of as my greatest foe, Opal, is now someone I trust implicitly.
Likewise, Maria, who I thought hated me, turns out to be someone I greatly admire. A woman who made such incredible sacrifices; she worked for the man who, as a teenager, drove her son to suicide at school. A man who robbed Maria’s daughter of her child and prevented Maria from enjoying a close, natural relationship with Romy as her grandmother.
‘I was never interested in George, I found out how cruel a man he was long ago and I hated him. But I loved my daughter with all my heart and that’s why I shadowed their every move,’ Opal explained when we were finally able to talk after all the drama of the terrible events. ‘At the end, George inadvertently gave me the greatest gift when he told me for spite that Esther’s death was not my fault. I’ve felt like ending my life so many times because of the burden of that guilt, believing I killed my own child through negligence. It was only my love for Romy and my belief that one day, maybe, just maybe, there might be a chance we’ll be reunited.’
‘It was Opal’s idea for me to take the housekeeper job,’ Maria said. ‘I had to tell George who I was because I knew if he found out – and he was a very resourceful man – I’d never see my granddaughter again.’
‘How did you get him to agree to it?’ I asked her, hardly believing that George would allow such an arrangement.
‘I put it to him like a business proposal,’ Maria said. ‘I told him I knew of my daughter’s mental health problems and that I thought the best place for Romy was with him. He agreed I could take the position and have contact with my granddaughter but he warned me: the first time I put a foot wrong, he’d make sure I never saw her again.’
‘He fired you when you had a bit of a meltdown at me because he thought you’d ruin his plans to set Opal and I at loggerheads?’
Maria nodded. ‘He told me I had become too much of a risk and that, if I had another outburst of temper, I might tell you the truth about Romy. He said if I went quietly, he’d consider reinstating me in the future when he’d got some problems “ironed out” as he put it.’
‘When I’d attacked Opal for abducting Harrison, he meant. That’s what he hoped would happen. He planned to kill her and place the blame firmly on me… with Daniela’s help.’
Maria nodded, looked sheepish.
‘I admit, when he brought you back to the house, I was terrified you were the one he’d settle down with. When you showed me the diamond bracelet he’d gifted you, I really panicked… it belonged to Lucy, you see. I knew he was serious about you then, although I never realised you were part of his plan to get rid of Opal.’ Maria shook her head. ‘When I saw you getting closer to Romy, I became convinced you would end up bringing her up as your own daughter and there would be nothing me or Opal could do about that. Our only chance was to stop that happening in the first place.’
Telling Maria that day that I hoped Romy and I could become closer was probably the worst thing I could have said to her.
‘All the stuff I did; watching you, sending photographs, the funeral flowers, messing up your car… it was the only way I could try and warn you off,’ Opal said.
‘But he’d already told me you were stalking him, so in a way, the actions you took to try and warn me just proved his point.’
‘Everything has always seemed to work to his advantage,’ Opal agreed.
Our conversations spanned over many nights. When the kids had gone up to bed, we’d sit with endless cups of coffee, remembering details, ironing out quirks that had puzzled me; lies that George had fed me.
‘When he said Opal had come to the door one day demanding to be let inside and you, Maria, alerted him to what happened, he’d made that up?’ I asked.
‘Of course,’ Opal said. ‘Mum would never have given me away. Thanks to her agreeing to become George’s housekeeper, I got to see Romy so much more.’
‘But I could only do so much,’ Maria remarked regretfully. ‘I couldn’t allow Romy to see Opal too much or George would’ve cottoned on what was happening. So I told little Romy that Opal was my friend and she accepted her as that, seeing her a couple of times a month.’
‘It’s been so hard to bear,’ Opal says softly. ‘There have been eating disorders, I’ve self-harmed… I’ve utterly hated myself for years. But through it all, I knew that the next best thing to Romy being with me was for her to be with my mum, her own granny.’
What a terrible, heartbreaking choice Opal has been forced to make.
I looked at Maria. ‘What a remarkable woman you are, facing that monster every day. Knowing that, on top of what he was doing to Opal and Romy, he had driven your son to suicide.’
‘Rufus was such a sensitive boy. His father had insisted on keeping him at home, he said it was the only way he’d let me take Opal and escape his controlling ways. Rufus had been twelve years old, old enough to decide who he wanted to be with and he chose his father. My husband was obsessed with sending Rufus to an independent day school but he sent us away virtually penniless.’
A light bulb illuminated in my head.
‘Was it ever proven? That George drove Rufus to suicide?’ I asked. ‘Because he told me that Lucy, his wife, had also committed suicide.’
‘He treated that girl like a dog.’ Maria’s eyes flashed. ‘I didn’t know her for very long but George controlled her like everyone in his life. I never found out exactly what lies he spun her to explain turning up with baby Romy one day and telling her she had to pretend the child was hers. But I know she went downhill fast into a deep, dark depression, after he did so.’ Maria stares into space, thinking back. ‘I know her parents despised George. But they also turned away from Romy and I can never forgive them for that. But I have written to them and told them everything now and I’ve had a reply.’
‘They’re elderly, in their eighties, but they’re looking into challenging the suicide verdict of the inquest into Lucy’s death as Mum is doing for Rufus,’ Opal continues. ‘Who knows what will come of it? There’s no evidence as such but we have to at least try.’
The doorbell sounds, rattling me out of my thoughts. Opal and Maria look up at me from their bead work with Romy.
The time I’ve been dreading has arrived.
‘Good luck,’ Opal says.
‘Thanks.’ And with my head pounding and feeling like I want to hide more than answer the door, I leave them to it and walk into the hallway.