‘Luke!’ Claire felt the thud resonate through her as his body landed, sending a thick plume of dust into the air. Horrified, she watched him lying petrifyingly still for a second, before attempting to raise himself, craning his neck to look down at the twisted piece of metal skewering his leg. It took another second, as she scrambled over the rubble to get to him, for the blood to spurt upwards, a bright red parabola arching through the air and then stopping. Until his next heartbeat.
Oh, dear God! ‘Luke!’ He was losing consciousness. Gulping back her panic, swiping the steaming blood from her face as she kneeled over him, Claire realised his injury might kill him. Instinctively, she pressed her thumbs to his thigh above the wound. The blood kept spraying. It was slippery, pumping everywhere. Shit. Shit! She had to stem the flow. But how? A tourniquet. She didn’t know whether it was the right thing to do, but it was the only thing she could think of. Reapplying the pressure, she glanced desperately around, seeing nothing she could use. She hadn’t got time to search. He could bleed out, bleed to death. Quickly she tore off her own shirt, which was already sodden with blood, fed it under his thigh and tied the sleeves. Then, with all of her might, she pulled the knot tight.
‘I’ll be back, I promise,’ she whispered, close to his ear. ‘Hold on, Luke. Please hold on.’ Stifling her tears, she leaped to her feet, pulling her phone from her pocket as she turned to climb back over the broken debris. She needed to call an ambulance. She needed to find the sick creature who’d caused all of this mayhem. To find her little girl and take her home.
After giving the information regarding Luke’s injuries as succinctly and precisely as she could, Claire paused at the doorway back to the hall, where she bent to pick up a similar sharp piece of metal to the one that had pierced Luke’s thigh. She weighed it in her hand. She had no qualms about using it. If her half-sister had caused her baby harm in any way, so help her God, she would kill her.
Breathing deeply, she went to the stairs. Clutching the handrail determinedly, she kept her gaze fixed upwards as she climbed, her antennae on alert for any sounds. Her heart stalled when she reached the landing. And then kicked up again, adrenalin pumping through her veins as she focused on her aim: to retrieve her innocent child from the clutches of a madwoman, whatever it took.
She wasn’t surprised to see Sophie standing there, her huge dark eyes, now far from sympathetic and caring, glinting with malice. Claire’s gaze darted past her, her anger festering like poison inside her as she saw no sign of her daughter.
‘Where is she?’ she asked, her throat dry, her gaze coming back to the woman who’d taken her. How could she have done this? What kind of sick individual would cold-bloodedly win over the affections of a four-year-old child only to use her so cruelly to punish those she imagined owed her?
‘Sleeping,’ Sophie said, with an indifferent shrug. ‘She’s not up here, so I wouldn’t waste your time looking.’
Claire felt her hatred harden for this woman she’d once thought she could care about. ‘Have you drugged her?’ Nausea rose sickeningly inside her as she spoke.
‘Just sleeping tablets,’ Sophie said matter-of-factly. ‘She’ll be fine. How’s Luke?’ she tacked on, as if she cared.
‘You’re sick.’ Claire took a careful step along the landing towards her. ‘You need help.’
‘Maybe.’ Sophie shrugged again. ‘Luke, how is he?’ Smiling sweetly, she repeated her question.
Icy fingers ran the length of Claire’s spine. The woman was utterly insane. How could she not have seen it? ‘He’s bleeding,’ she answered, trying to speak calmly. ‘Badly.’
‘Oh dear.’ Sophie sighed dramatically. ‘Perhaps he’ll do us both a favour and bleed to death.’
Claire’s chest constricted. She was pure evil. ‘You twisted fucking freak,’ she seethed, her anger perilously close to spilling over.
‘Claire… such language.’ Sophie blinked in feigned shock. ‘Honestly, some people are never satisfied, are they?’
What in God’s name was she talking about? Claire’s blood thundered through her head as she tried to make sense of any of it.
‘I didn’t think you’d be that bothered if he died,’ Sophie went on, smiling like a demented Cheshire cat. ‘You really are better off without him, you know. At least this way you won’t have to waste any more emotion worrying about whether he’ll—’
‘Where is she?’ Claire lunged for her.
Sophie backed away fast. ‘How does it feel to have nothing, Claire?’ she taunted. ‘No money, no parents, no perfect man—’
‘I’ll kill you, I swear, as God is my witness…’
‘He was pretty perfect, you know, determined to stay faithful to you no matter how much I tempted him,’ Sophie went on, with a melodramatic sigh. ‘But you were too busy looking for his imperfections to realise what you had. You were bound to lose him one way or another.’
‘Where’s my daughter?’ Claire screamed the words.
Sophie ignored her. ‘I’m sure you’re beginning to realise now, though, aren’t you? What you’ve lost? What it’s like to have nothing in your life, to wonder why you weren’t good enough,’ she continued, each word like an icicle through Claire’s chest.
She tightened her fist around the jagged piece of metal, itching to drive it through Sophie’s black heart. Sophie’s gaze travelled towards it. Claire didn’t doubt she would be ready for her if she tried. What if she was too strong for her? What would happen to her baby then?
‘Bernard was quite keen to amend his will, by the way. Did he tell you? Or did it slip his mind?’ Sophie looked her over with amusement. ‘He owes me, you see. I knew he would never admit it, though, without a little incentive. That’s why I sought you out.’
Claire’s head reeled. She had to stop her. She had to shut her vile mouth. ‘Why did he owe you, Sophie?’ she asked calmly, thinking fast, swallowing her anger. ‘Because he fucked your whore of a mother? Produced an abhorrence?’
Sophie’s face darkened. ‘You bitch,’ she snarled, advancing towards her.
‘You didn’t seek me out.’ Claire backed away. ‘Did you think I didn’t know you were the sordid little skeleton in his cupboard, you pathetic creature? That I wouldn’t know why you’d crawled out of the woodwork? I sought you out!’ She glared hard at her, despite her heart breaking inside. Her own desperation to have Sophie as part of her family, to have a sister, someone who would always be there for her, had blinkered her to the evil she’d invited into her life. She’d been fooled by Sophie’s false sympathy and kindness because she’d wanted to be. Luke had been right. She’d imagined they shared a bond, but she hadn’t known her. In setting out to uncover her father’s secrets, she’d risked the lives of the people who truly mattered to her. Allowed Sophie access to Luke, to Ella. She would never forgive herself for that.
‘I knew who you were as soon as I saw your Facebook profile. I’d been searching for you for years,’ she embroidered the truth. Sophie’s location had sent her mind flying back to that distant day in Rhyl, right here in this very pub. Even as a child she’d wondered about the intimacy between her father and the woman with the leopard-print shoes and red-painted lips. She’d listened to that child. Acknowledged her fears. Encouraged Sophie – and waited. ‘All I had to do was mention Dad a few times on my profile and I knew you’d seek me out. I found you, Sophie. I caught you!’ she went on, summoning her courage to spit the words out with the same vitriol Sophie had spewed out her nonsense. ‘I knew exactly what you wanted.’
‘Did you, Claire?’ Sophie’s lips curled into a sneer. ‘Did you really?’
‘I was one step ahead of you all the way.’ Claire pushed it, baiting her, wanting her to come just a little bit closer. ‘All that oozing sympathy you did over Luke – did you think I was that weak?’
‘You let him walk all over you,’ Sophie scoffed contemptuously. ‘He wouldn’t think he could fuck other women if you hadn’t allowed him to.’
‘He didn’t, though, did he?’ Holding her gaze, Claire took another step back. ‘He felt sorry for you, Sophie. Of course, he didn’t realise the game you were playing; that far from being terrified and suicidal, you were a nasty, disgusting little trollop who obviously takes after her sluttish mother!’
‘Shut up.’ Her eyes narrowing to icy slits, Sophie moved closer.
‘You failed, Sophie,’ Claire taunted, her mind racing. ‘You’re a failure, a mistake, just face it.’
Sophie stopped, her chest heaving, her eyes ablaze with humiliation and rage. And then she exploded forward.
Claire twisted sideways as Sophie flew at her, then watched, fascinated by the startled expression on her face, the dull thud… thud… thud, as her half-sister’s soft body tumbled and bounced down the stairs. Her heart pelting manically, she stood frozen for a second. And then, realising that Ella might be anywhere, in mortal danger, she thundered down after her.