Nick’s striped shirt was erupting from his waistband, his blonde hair tousled in a way that made his
thinning patches a little too obvious. I chided myself. I was only stripping him down for parts because I
felt so wretched. ‘Coercion!’ he said, leaning over his desk and jabbing at the computer’s keyboard.
‘I’ve been researching it properly and I spoke to a mate at the CPS, too. The law’s changed a lot in the
last couple of years. Trust me, it’s going to be our friend here.’
Sophie, sat in the grey B&B Italia sofa that stretched out across the length of the wall, pulled up her
knees and looped her arms around them, making herself into a little cosmic egg. It looked so
infuriatingly childish. ‘Are you sure it’s right to get legal?’ she said, nervously twirling her fingers in
her frizzy curls. ‘So she didn’t spend Christmas with us, and Amber’s fees are greedy: is it really
enough for you to start suing her? I just don’t want Rachel to take herself even further away from us
because she thinks we’re tormenting this woman she worships.’
To my relief, Nick jumped in before I had to. It wasn’t just me playing the Big Bad Wolf with our
snowflake offspring. ‘For Christ’s sake, Sophie, this woman’s taking the piss. Did you hear what your
mother said about the state Rachel’s in? Ranting and raving, talking about suicide.’ Had I really said
that? I was in such a state when I’d arrived home the night before that it was hard to remember. The
large gin and tonic I’d poured myself before I went upstairs and found him had certainly helped to take
the edge off, but its after-effects also seemed to be blunting my memory.
‘But it’s Rachel!’ said Sophie, flushed and pleading. ‘She’s still just Rachel. I’m as pissed off as anyone
with her, but she needs our love to get better. I hung
up on her yesterday, even though she sounded completely desperate.’ ‘Yeah, tough love,’ grunted Nick,
studying his computer. ‘We go to the police first off, lodge a formal complaint.’ I studied Sophie’s face,
the contempt that was blooming there as she watched her father’s narrowed eyes scanning his screen.
‘We tell them how she’s been manipulating Rachel when she’s at her most vulnerable, stealing from her
and alienating her from her family. Coercive control. That’s what this is – mental abuse.’
Was it enough? It certainly wouldn’t be enough if the suicide angle was exposed as a stretched truth,
and Sophie’s contempt for his argument was all too obvious. I couldn’t lose her. I couldn’t lose either of
my girls – I needed them too much, even if they chose not to appreciate it. Perhaps there was a way to
take out both problems with one round of ammunition?
‘Sophie’s right,’ I said, smiling over at her. It was like flicking on a light switch, so grateful was she for
my approval. This was going to be even easier than I’d hoped. ‘Rachel needs our protection, our love.
But you’re right too, darling. With the state she’s reached, tough love’s part of the package.’ Both of
them were fixed on me now. ‘We need to know...’ I was starting to shake, my calm evaporating. That
appalling encounter in her ratty treatment room, the look on Rachel’s face last night as she rhapsodized
about her. ‘We need to know what Amber’s capable of.
What her methods are. Trust me, that Christmas retreat was more than just foot massages and
supermarket Prosecco. It’s broken Rachel.’ Sophie looked stricken. ‘Oh God, Mum... what do we do?’
‘And who are these people? The state of her little friend – she looked like a traveller.’ Righteous anger
was lighting me up from within by now, as I thought of how that greasy-haired child had torn into me.
‘I’m surprised she didn’t have a mongrel trailing behind her on a string.’
‘Probably a druggie. What are you actually suggesting here, Lily?’ said Nick. Esther crossed my
eyeline, visible through the glass wall behind Sophie, and I faltered for a second. She was holding a
sheaf of papers, walking purposefully, with the air of someone who was fully confident in their own
domain. I’d let it go too far this time.
‘You’re up next, my darling,’ I said, pointing to Sophie. ‘You need to go and find her. Find out what
that terrible woman put her through at Christmas, so we’ve got the full picture.’ Sophie looked
uncertain. ‘I don’t want to spy on her, Mum...’ I crossed over to her, enveloped her in my arms. Soon I
could feel her tears soaking into my cream silk shirt, her body moulding against mine.
‘You’re not betraying her, Sophie,’ I said, gently rocking her solid frame. ‘You’re just making sure
she’s alright. You said yourself you should never have hung up on her.’ A little sob es caped at that.
‘You’re being the best sister you could possibly be.’ As I hugged my innocent girl, my eyes k ept roving
the space. I was like a sniper, waiting for the next target.
How arrogant I was to believe I was invincible.