‘Please, Mummy, can we have these ones? They’re my favourites in the whole world,’ Sophie said, jumping up and down in an effort to reach the chocolate-coated breakfast cereal on the top shelf.
‘No, love, they’re full of sugar. How about Rice Krispies instead?’ her mother replied, placing the blue box into the shopping trolley.
As Lucy watched Anita placate her child in Tesco she realised where she had been going wrong all this time. She involved herself with women who did not know the value of nurturing. Selfish women, like Emily and Charlotte, who lacked the maternal instinct and therefore could not accept her as their own. Watching Anita with her daughter was a joy to behold, and immediately Lucy knew it was meant to be. With her plaited dark hair and pink summer dress, Sophie was obviously the focus of her mother’s adoration. This was a child who was happy, secure and loved. Lucy smiled. This was her mother too. Her true mother, who would take her in without a moment’s hesitation. Lucy imagined turning up at her doorstep. Anita would probably be overwhelmed that her first-born daughter had come home. Just like in the movies.
But what had been an advantage would also turn out to be something of an obstacle. She could not have her perfect family with another child in the way. A six-year-old would have to be disposed of, but she could not drop her off in a housing estate as she had done with Monica’s dog. The murder of a child would bring a whole new side to the police investigation which was getting increasing media attention. They were already painting her as a monster. But it was simply not true.
Lucy told herself that sacrifices would have to be made. Of course there were other options; she knew people who would pay well for such a pretty little girl. But those sorts of people were ill-intentioned, and she could not have such a transaction on her conscience. No. It was kinder to end it: allow Sophie to die in peace with fond memories of her family, knowing that she was always loved. And Lucy would be there to take over in assisting Anita with her grief. But it would take serious planning, especially now that the police were on the lookout. Monica’s death had raised their attention, but nobody understood.
She had gained a lot of satisfaction from wiping out the unworthy candidates: Harry, Charlotte, Emily, Monica – just thinking about their murders sent a delicious shiver down her spine. But she was not sure how she felt about taking such a young life and struggled to justify it in her mind. Yet she could not waste another moment. It would be Christmas in a few months and everything hinged on that perfect day. There would be no more rehearsals. Everything had to be perfect.
Lucy walked between the aisles of the shopping centre, staring at the products on display. She wanted this meeting to be special, comforting. Plucking some cleaning products from the shelves, she popped them in her basket. She had much stronger stuff at home, but the gentle-scented air fresheners and candles were kinder to inhale. She wondered what Anita liked the best. She would have to make a note of her favourites the next time she visited. She already knew that Sophie liked Coco Pops for breakfast, and Ribena instead of tea. She came to the end of the aisle, turning right for breakfast cereals. Her thoughts brought a frown. Just how long would Sophie be staying there? Lucy wasn’t very good with children. Sophie seemed a bit like one of those exotic pets that she wasn’t quite sure what to do with. A bitter voice rose from inside. It knew exactly what to do if she wanted to have Anita all to herself. But there was another side to Lucy: the side that did her food shopping in Tesco and checked the weather forecast for rain. She was the sensible one and was worth listening to because she didn’t want to end up in prison. Her whole childhood had been a prison. No, there must be a way to compromise. But if Anita came, then Sophie was coming too. She would sort out the finer details later.
Lucy looked around, realising she had lost them. It didn’t matter. She knew where they lived, their routes, where she went to school and where Anita spent her time. Flowers. She could buy some flowers and make the place look pretty. There were all sorts of things she could get to make it nice. She could even get a commode instead of a chair. One of those seats with a built-in potty. After all, Anita was a lady; she would not soil herself like the others. Lucy dismissed the thought. It was too messy. Besides, Anita was going to pass all the tests. And then she would be free.
A small doubtful voice spoke from inside. Just how do you think you’re going to get away with that? Everyone is looking for you. Lucy smiled. She would get away with it because she was not Lucy in the real world. The person she was presenting now, as she walked down the aisle of the supermarket, was someone else entirely. Having a loving mother was her destiny, her happy ending. And every story deserved a happy ever after.