Free Stranger Child by Rachel Abbott Page B

with her to chose for herself.
    When she took them up to Tasha – once more isolated in her room – she had tried to talk to her about the clothes she had chosen, and how they could go shopping together in the future. Nothing elicited a response and Emma wondered if maybe the girl resented Emma’s intrusion into their lives. In Tasha’s eyes, this was Caroline’s house, not Emma’s.
    She had sat down on the side of the bed, but Tasha had immediately swung her legs over to the other side, her back to Emma.
    ‘I know it must seem strange, Tasha, finding me in this house, married to your dad. But we didn’t get together until a long time after your mum died.’
    In spite of the fact that she had shown no interest in what Emma was saying, Tasha hadn’t rushed from the room, so Emma kept talking, hoping she could break down some barriers.
    ‘I met your dad through my fiancé,’ she had told Tasha. ‘He was doing some work for your dad’s company, and we went to a few charity events together. Your mum was there too. She was very beautiful, Tasha. I really liked her. We nearly always found that we were at the same table, and we had some good times together. She talked about you a lot, told me that you were the best thing that had ever happened to her.’
    Emma risked a glance at Tasha. Her back was rigid. She was listening, though.
    ‘I didn’t know about the accident for a long time. My fiancé and I had split up, and I took myself off to stay with my dad in Australia. I didn’t want to know about anything or anybody for quite a while. When I came back to Manchester, there was an article about you in the paper. It was a year to the day that you had disappeared and your dad was making another plea to people to try to find you. I got in touch to offer him my sympathy. He tried so hard to find you, you know. He was shattered, Tasha.’
    That was the wrong thing to say. Tasha hadn’t turned round, but her voice was harsh, as if the words were being dragged from deep inside her.
    ‘You really don’t know, do you? You actually believe what you’re saying.’
    Emma was shocked. Every word of her story was true. She tried to interrupt, but Tasha shook her head.
    ‘Whatever happens next, it’s his fault. You need to remember that.’
    What did she mean?
Tasha had refused to say.
    That was three hours ago, and now they felt like a family divided. David was in their rarely used sitting room, Emma and Ollie were in the kitchen, and Tasha had barricaded herself back in her room.
    Emma’s profound sense of failure was compounded by her own feelings about this stranger who had exploded into their lives. All she wanted was to return to the peace and harmony she had known just days before, and she hated herself for the thought.
    She took a deep, shuddering breath and blinked away the burning sensation at the back of her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. Ollie couldn’t see her upset again – it wasn’t fair on him. She picked her baby up from where he was playing on the floor, ignoring his disgruntled ‘Ay’, and hugged his warm little body to her, hiding her red eyes by holding his head close to her chest.
    She took him into the sitting room at the front of the house, quickly wiping the heel of her hand across her cheeks. She could hold on for a moment longer. But when she saw David sitting on the sofa, staring at the wall, her forced composure nearly shattered. He lookedround hopefully, but seeing his wife and baby, he turned back, disappointed. She understood. She knew with all her heart that it wasn’t a lack of love for them, it was simply that – more than anything – he wanted his daughter to come to him.
    She put Ollie on the rug, knowing he would crawl to David. Perhaps time with his son would help, and Emma knew she had to be alone for a moment, to let the lid off all the emotion she was bottling up inside her.
    Without a word, she turned and left the room, holding her breath until she reached the sanctuary of