Read Online Who is Sarah Lawson: A Captivating Psychological Thriller by K.J. Rabane - Free Book Online

closing in. I had no job and very little funds in my bank account; the situation was desperate. On the bus back to the flat I began to wonder how much longer I could afford to pay the rent and utilities before I realised that I was being ridic ulous. This charade had to stop. I had to confront the man who was posing as my brother and the sooner the better.
    Once more the phone was ringing as I opened the front door.
    “Sarah?” It was a woman’s voice and one, which I recognised. “I know you and Andy are at loggerheads but we are family and I’m not willing for this to go on a moment longer. Come over for dinner tonight. What do you say?”
    So the mountain had come to Mohammed, I thought , as I replied. “OK. What time?”
    “The kids are having a sleep-over at a friend’s house. It’s not far from you. I could pick you up on the way back. Let’s say seven?”
    “Fine,” I said.
    The rest of the day passed in a flash. I was anxious. It didn’t escape my notice that the children would be absent. Maybe they couldn’t be relied upon not to say something they shouldn’t. Children could not be programmed like robots.  The memory of the custard yellow car stopping outside a house, not a million miles away from my flat made my head swim. I had to get to the bottom of it all before I was sucked deeper into this web of intrigue. It was no good simply relying on Richard Stevens; I had to take the initiative. With some careful subterfuge I should be able to beat them at their own game. There was no reason why I shouldn’t become the sister they wanted – at least for the present.

Chapter 15
     
    Waiting on the covered walkway outside my flat I saw her car pulling into the forecourt. Hannah Lawson wound down the driver side window and waved to me. I smiled, waved back and went down to meet her. To a casual observer it would have appeared that we were at least friends.
    She seemed flustered as she backed out of the parking area and into the evening traffic. I heard her mutter a curse as she knocked the offside wheel against the kerb. The inside of the car was less bilious than its outer shell; brown fabric seat covers were littered with the detritus of family life, crisp packets, an empty plastic bottle that had once contained juice, a beheaded power ranger and a pink notebook with a Hannah Montana bookmark spilling out from its pages. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and waited for this stranger to begin talking.
    “There, that’s better. I always hate that roundabout, won’t be long now, Andy’s keeping an eye on the curry. It’s your favourite. I thought we might eat in the summerhouse. It’s a nice evening, if not quite as hot as it’s been.”
    A shaft of loss hit me like a needle piercing skin – the summerhouse; I’d loved it at first sight. It stood at the end of a well-manicured lawn edged by mature trees. There were shrubs with terracotta pots spilling colourful Busy Lizzies arranged around its perimeter. If I’d any doubts about the house being too big for me the summerhouse had dispelled them, besides I’d already decided to raise our kids in that house. But now there were no kids and no Owen.
    The Lawson woman prattled on, how glad she was that I was joining them; she hoped that this latest bit of nonsense was over - perhaps we could all get back to normal - if I felt lonely at all, having finished work - well she could do with a hand - the house was always in a mess with the kids.
    I clenched my fists and ground them into the seat cover but smiled as if her request had been a perfectly reasonable one.
    Lawson’s car stood in the garage. Once again I clenched my fists – where was my car and what did they intend to do with my ninety thousand pounds?
    “You OK?” She was looking at me intently as she drew to a halt outside the front door .
    “Fine. Thanks.”
    “Right then, why don’t we take the side door into the garden and surprise Andy?”
    Oh what good fun, I thought following her.