Give Me the Child: the most gripping psychological thriller of the year. Mel McGrath

trampoline, their laughter skipping across the patio and down the steps to the French windows.

       How could I resent Freya for liking the sibling I’ve never been able to give her?

      I found some lemonade in the fridge, poured three glasses and walked out onto the patio. Ruby was leaning up against the trampoline frame now, taking in the sun. Her hair had been bundled into an inefficient ponytail from which long auburn trails escaped like fireworks. She was barefoot and wearing what looked to be a newly purchased T-shirt and shorts. On the ground beside her lay a bright pair of trainers. They’d been shopping. I was glad of that; the stuff I’d fetched from the flat was old and tatty. I watched her for a moment. She seemed oddly at ease, as if, after some long journey, she had finally arrived at her destination. Behind her, oblivious to me, Freya carried on performing flips and rolls.

      ‘Hey, I brought lemonade.’

      Freya gave a little whoop and, steadying herself to a standstill, waved, clambered from her perch and ran over. I put the glasses down on the grass and opened my arms. She grasped me around the waist. I planted a kiss on her brown hair. She was sporting a new, unfamiliar hairstyle, which made her look more vulnerable and, I thought, younger, but the moment I laid a hand on the plait, she pulled away. ‘Don’t muzz it up, Mum. Ruby helped me plait it. She says it looks fuzzy wuzzy when it’s loose.’

      ‘Well, I think it looks brilliant both ways,’ I said, alarmed that the words ‘fuzzy wuzzy’ might have some racial overtone.

      Freya picked up a glass of lemonade and handed it to Ruby. Changing the subject, I said, ‘Did you have a nice time today?’

      ‘We went to the park and the lido. Then some boring people came to talk to Ruby, so I went next door and played with Charlie. After that it was OK, though. Dad took us to the shops and for ice cream.’

      In the twenty-four hours since Ruby’s arrival the dynamic of the household had shifted. A new routine had emerged, and I wasn’t part of it. I wasn’t surprised but I wished I felt less left out.

      Freya pointed to the dark patch on my running shirt and said, ‘Mum, you need a shower.’

      ‘I do. Have you two thought about what you’d like for tea?’

      Freya shrugged but it was Ruby who answered.

      ‘Chicken McNuggets.’

      Tom was keen to go to McDonald’s but I resisted. I’d spent the best part of five years flipping burgers there while trying to get an education and support myself and Sal, which left me loathing everything about the place. We settled on a regular favourite, Hoopoes, not only because the chicken was great, but also because there was an enclosed garden at the back that the owners had made into a little playground where the girls could muck about when they got bored inside.

      Tom drove. The girls tumbled out and went off hand in hand so Freya could show Ruby the play area while Tom and I grabbed a table. I waited until they were out of earshot.

      ‘Doesn’t Ruby seem a bit odd to you?’

      Tom frowned, not pleased by the question. ‘Odd how?’

      ‘It’s like her mother’s death hasn’t really impacted on her.’

      ‘It probably hasn’t yet. You of all people should know that.’

      Our usual waiter, Eddie, came over with menus, took our drinks order and offered to go and call the kids. Tom thanked him and said he’d do it. I sensed, as I always did with Tom, that I was going to have to drag him into having a conversation he didn’t want to have, but I was absolutely determined so, as he got up, I held out a staying hand.

      ‘Did you speak to the grandmother today?’

      Tom looked away. ‘You want to know the truth? I had a bit of a thing with the social worker. You know the type: interfering, self-righteous. So I didn’t get round to it.’

      I sensed this was a lie. Just then Eddie returned with drinks and Tom took the opportunity of the distraction to go and get the girls and I couldn’t pursue it. Once we were all settled around the table Eddie came over again.

      ‘Our usual, please, Eddie,’ I said. There was an awkward pause.

      ‘And what would you like, Ruby?’ Tom said pointedly.

      It took me a moment to realise what I’d done, then I reached over and, tapping Ruby on the arm, I said, ‘Ruby, of course you must have whatever you want.’

      The girl stared at me with those implacable amber eyes and I thought I detected hatred there or maybe contempt. ‘Chicken McNuggets. From McDonald’s’.

      A pained silence spread around the table. Sensing he’d got in the middle of something, Eddie sidled off. Tom threw down a tenner for the drinks, stood up from the table and said, ‘Come on then, we’re going to Mickey D’s.’

      As we got into the car, I noticed the sly smile on Ruby’s face. The moment she spotted me looking, the smile vanished.

      Back home, Tom waited until the girls had gone out into the garden, then he said, ‘Would it really have killed us to do what Ruby wanted? And did you need to be so rude to her?’

      I went to the fridge and poured a large glass of Pinot Grigio. Tom had been moody all evening, for reasons I suspected had something to do with his earlier lie.

      ‘I’m really, really sorry about what I said. It was an honest mistake.’

      Tom sighed and helped himself to a glass of Rioja.

      Ruby Winter was sitting on the picnic rug in the garden sucking on a long straw. In the fading sun she was like some exotic plant raised in the dark, spindly and unnaturally white. I sat down next to her.

      ‘I grew up on the Pemberton Estate, did your dad tell you?’ I said.

      Ruby stared at me in disbelief. ‘That must have been, like, a million years ago?’

      ‘Yeah,’ I said, smiling. ‘I left before you were born.’

      Ruby shrugged and went back to her straw.

      I started again, summoning a brighter tone. ‘How’s about we go shopping at the weekend, just us girls? We can go to McDonald’s afterwards if you like.’

      ‘Maybe.’

      ‘Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened in the restaurant. I’m just so used to it being the three of us, I wasn’t thinking.’

      Ruby was listening but she didn’t say anything.

      ‘We’re glad you’re here, safe, with us,’ I went on, but even as I said it I knew that, for me at least, it was a lie.

CHAPTER EIGHT

      When I arrived home from work the following evening, Tom told me he’d got through to the grandmother, and that Ruby would be speaking to her later. Finally, some progress – and while I was sad for Ruby, I was also quite looking forward to her moving out. We’d support her and see her regularly but she would no longer be part of our household. Freya would gain a sister and I’d be able to develop a relationship with her without having my nose rubbed daily in Tom’s infidelity. Seemed like a good compromise.

      I poured myself a glass of wine in the kitchen then carried it into the living room where Freya was watching one of her Pippi Longstocking DVDs. My daughter had always been a thoughtful, interior child whose courage often failed her. For years, Pippi had been her invisible sister and her alter ego, the stroppy, crusading kid in whose fearless footsteps Freya desperately wished to tread.

      I