Once the police had taken Zoe away, and the paramedics had made Dillon stable enough for transportation, I called a taxi.
I left the poolroom, and headed up the stairs to get dressed, looking at my phone. Who can I call? Who can I trust? Who will listen now? It felt as though I had no one.
The rain was tipping down when I raced from the building, head down as I avoided puddles on my way to the waiting taxi.
‘Jesus!’ I’d slammed into Connor dashing the other way. ‘Rachel, isn’t it?’
Is it?
‘The cops called me to lock up,’ he went on, ‘but I can’t find my keys. I’ve made a call to the owner, and I’ll meet her here.’ He glanced up at a waiting policeman in the foyer. ‘They said there’s been an incident.’ He was a little breathless. ‘Has there been a break-in?’
‘Something like that,’ I said, as a raindrop slipped down my collar, making me shudder. Zoe must have lifted his keys. ‘It was Zoe, Connor,’ I added, feeling he should be prepared.
‘Is she OK? She came round earlier.’ He paused. ‘I know I sound like a jerk, but I’ve been trying to end things – she’s … well she’s nice enough, but a bit clingy and intense.’
‘You’ve had a lucky escape,’ I said, stepping out towards the taxi. ‘She isn’t who we thought she was.’
And neither am I.
***
‘So, it seems we share the same father,’ Dillon said, as I walked towards his hospital bed. He was in the corner of the ward, sitting up, his broad shoulders resting against the pillows. In my panic at the pool, I’d barely registered his dark, wavy hair, and rugged complexion, but I could see now he was a kindly-looking man, with deep green eyes. He looked well considering what he’d been through. Thankfully, the knife hadn’t hit any major organs, although another inch and it would have struck his liver. He was lucky. At least that’s what he said.
I sat down in the chair next to his bed. ‘It seems we do,’ I said. I hadn’t yet fully come to terms with what my mother had done. I felt as though my identity had been ripped from me, and I was no longer Rachel the psychotherapist, I was Caitlin the changeling.
It was as though I was coping with losing her for a second time. But I was working through the trauma. Trying to understand why Laura – my mum – did what she did. Had she tried to save Caitlin, or replace Rachel? I knew she must have been psychologically scarred as she held the truth inside her all those years, lost in her paintings – rarely leaving the house. Perhaps she didn’t tell me for fear I would leave her. It had always been the two of us against the world.
‘I’m looking forward to seeing Felix again,’ I said to Dillon. ‘Or should I call him Tierney?’
‘My guess is he’ll want you to call him da.’
I smiled. ‘I’m so relieved you’re going to be OK.’ And I was. I’d visited the hospital a couple of times when he was unconscious, and I was beginning to feel a connection.
‘Why did you come to the spa?’ I asked him. There was so much I didn’t know.
‘Well, I came to England to talk to you. I felt sure you were Caitlin the moment I looked into your eyes that day in the woods. I’m good with eyes. Never forget them. But I couldn’t be sure.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry about the day I saw you at the farmhouse.’
‘You scared the shit out of me,’ I said, but added a small smile.
‘Da thought you were press, was worried you would uncover Bridie’s past.’
‘But I told him I was a psychotherapist …’
‘And he didn’t believe you. So I chased you, hoping to scare you off. When I became convinced you were Caitlin, I asked Da what you’d told him. When I found out your name was Rachel, alarm bells rang. I felt sure something strange happened the day Imogen died.’ He shifted his body up the bed, and winced.
‘Are you OK?’ I said. ‘Do you need painkillers?’
‘I’m fine,’ he said.
‘Did you tell Tierney you thought I might be Caitlin?’
He shook his head. ‘It would have sounded bizarre, basing a whole theory on your eyes and your name, plus I didn’t want him to get his hopes up. But I was desperate to find you, find out more about you. Da said you’d told him you live in Finsbury Park, so I took a flight over, and tracked you down. I wanted to talk to you, that’s all, but couldn’t find the right words. I even followed you to Suffolk and back.’
‘In a red car?’
He nodded. ‘A hire car – I felt like a stalker.’
‘Well, you were, by definition.’ I smiled.
‘Then I saw Bridie with you a few times, and knew then you must be Caitlin. I didn’t trust Bridie, after what I knew about her, and how she tried to kill Da. And when I saw her put something on your doorstep and run away, my fear grew. She was dangerous, and I found myself watching you all the time – guarding you, I suppose. And then, last week, I saw her pick you up, and I followed you. It seemed odd to me that the two of you went into the spa alone. The rest is history, as they say.’
‘I have you to thank for my life.’
He shrugged. ‘I ran away when you were a child – left you when you needed me most. I wasn’t about to leave you again.’ He paused. ‘It’s hard to take in what your mother … I mean Laura, did,’ he said, as a correction. But the truth was Laura would always be my mother. ‘But she was good to me when I was a teenager, so I’ll find a way to understand. We were good friends,’ he finished. And I hoped I’d come to understand too.
I spent another half an hour with him, and before I left, I found myself taking hold of his hand and squeezing. ‘I’d like to get to know you even better, Dillon,’ I said. ‘Shall we exchange numbers?’
‘I’d like that,’ he said.
It was later that day that my mobile rang. An unknown number. But I no longer felt a sense of dread as I picked up.
‘Miss Hogan?’
‘Yes.’
‘Dresden Clinic here.’
‘Oh, hi there.’ I didn’t say I knew what she was about to tell me.
‘I’m ringing to let you know that there is no DNA match between yourself and Mr Jude Henshaw.’