Stolen Read online

  Contents

  About the Book

  About the Author

  Also by Susan Lewis

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  About the Book

  Life can change for ever in an instant…

  Lucy Winters’ parents have always been there for her. Loving, gentle and kind, they have given her everything she could have wished for. Now, estranged from her husband, Lucy has moved to the country to take over their thriving auction business. From the moment she begins to prepare for her first sale she knows she’s made the right decision. And she dares to hope that at last she is living the life she has always dreamed of.

  But then, quite suddenly, her world is thrown into turmoil. She discovers a shocking truth, one that forces her to question everything she has ever known. And it becomes frighteningly possible that the very people who should have protected her are the ones who have betrayed her in the most devastating of ways. Can she ever forgive them? Can they ever forgive themselves …?

  About the Author

  Susan Lewis is the bestselling author of twenty-seven novels. She is also the author of Just One More Day and One Day at a Time, the moving memoirs of her childhood in Bristol. Having resided in France for many years she now lives in Gloucestershire. Her website address is www.susanlewis.com

  Susan is a supporter of the childhood bereavement charity, Winston’s Wish: www.winstonswish.org.uk and of the breast cancer charity, BUST: www.bustbristol.co.uk

  Also by Susan Lewis

  Fiction

  A Class Apart

  Dance While You Can

  Stolen Beginnings

  Darkest Longings

  Obsession

  Vengeance

  Summer Madness

  Last Resort

  Wildfire

  Chasing Dreams

  Taking Chances

  Cruel Venus

  Strange Allure

  Silent Truths

  Wicked Beauty

  Intimate Strangers

  The Hornbeam Tree

  The Mill House

  A French Affair

  Missing

  Out of the Shadows

  Lost Innocence

  The Choice

  Forgotten

  No Turning Back

  Losing You

  Memoir

  Just One More Day

  One Day at a Time

  Susan Lewis

  Stolen

  The sun was shining, the birds were singing and everything was so right with Rose’s world that her smile was turning heads as she walked. Attracting almost as much attention was not-quite-three-year-old Alexandra, skipping along beside her mother, one hand clinging to the pushchair, the other carrying Snugs, her favourite bear. Inside the pushchair the twins, Simon and Becky – one fair like his father, the other dark, like her mother – were fast asleep. Tomorrow they’d be eighteen months old, so Alexandra had been helping her grandmother bake a cake this afternoon, which was now safely stored at the bottom of the pushchair ready for Alex to ice when they got home.

  ‘Becky can’t help, can she?’ Alex asked for the tenth time.

  ‘No, darling, she’s too small.’

  ‘She’ll spoil it, won’t she?’

  ‘Maybe, but not intentionally. She’s just little and can’t do things as well as you can yet.’

  ‘Simon doesn’t want to make cakes.’

  ‘No he’d rather eat them.’

  Alex giggled and carried on skipping, careful never to let go of the pushchair, until they arrived at the station when she hopped up on to the footboard for the ride down the escalator.

  ‘Good girl,’ Rose praised, as they successfully disembarked at the bottom. ‘Now, stay close while we wait for the train.’

  ‘It’s called a Tube really, isn’t it?’ Alex asked.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Why is it called a Tube?’

  ‘Well, I suppose because the underground tunnels look like tubes.’

  Alex peered wide-eyed into the darkness. ‘Do monsters live in there?’ she whispered, taking care not to wake them.

  ‘No, only trains.’

  Alex’s earnest eyes turned to her mother. ‘Daddy fights monsters and chops them up into little bits.’

  Imagining his smile Rose felt her heart flood with love, and scooping Alex up she blew a raspberry kiss on her cheek.

  Had anyone told her on her twenty-first birthday that by the time she was twenty-five she’d be married to the most wonderful man in the world with three beautiful children, she’d never have believed it. This was because she hadn’t yet met the man destined to sweep her off her feet, but when she did, a month after the big celebration, she’d known, virtually at hello, that this was who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Amazingly, exhilaratingly, he’d felt the same way, so breezing past all the cautions and disapproval of family and friends, not to mention suspicions that she must be pregnant (which she wasn’t), they’d headed up the aisle a mere ten months after their first date.

  And not a day had gone by since when she hadn’t felt their love deepening, nor had she ever experienced a moment’s doubt about becoming a mother. True, they hadn’t expected it to happen quite so soon, nor so prolifically, and it certainly wasn’t always easy – having twins, after the trouble-free ride Alex had given them, had come as a brutal awakening to just how challenging parenthood could be. However, they were all happy and healthy – and coping, even if there were times when she felt like screaming or taking herself off somewhere quiet for a very long lie-down.

  ‘OK, darling, the train’s coming, so stand back.’

  Obediently Alex stepped in behind her mother and hid her face as the loud, nasty monster rattled into the station.

  ‘Right, up we go,’ Rose said as the doors opened.

  Alex hopped up and followed her in giant steps to a bench seat.

  The only other passenger was a man, half-hidden behind a paper, but then Rose had deliberately chosen to travel home from her mother’s in the middle of the afternoon to avoid the rush-hour crush. Trying to manage three children amongst a bruising, impatient horde of commuters wouldn’t have been wise, in fact it could be downright reckless.

  Moments after the doors closed one of the twins started to wake up. Watching her eyes blink open and her tiny mouth widen in a yawn, Rose waited expectantly, and sure enough, the instant Becky spotted her, her precious little face broke into the sunniest of smiles.

  ‘Hello you,’ Rose murmured.

  Becky burped and Alex gave a shriek of laughter.

  ‘Say pardon me,’ Alex told her.

  Becky looked at her sister and frowned.

  ‘Can I run down to the door at the end?’ Alex demanded, already starting to go.

  ‘No, sweetheart,’ Rose told her.

  ‘I want to.’

  ‘I said no.’

  ‘But I want to.’

  ‘Mummy, up, up.’ Becky w
as already half out of the pushchair, while Simon, in his usual fashion, simply carried on sleeping.

  ‘You’ll have to go back in when it’s time to get off the train,’ Rose warned as she lifted Becky on to her lap. Becky burped again and started wriggling in an effort to get down.

  ‘Look at me, Mummy,’ Alex called.

  Gasping to see her at the other end of the carriage, Rose scowled at her meaningfully. ‘I told you it wasn’t allowed.’

  ‘I want to run,’ Alex pouted.

  Rose glanced at the man seated opposite. ‘You’re being a nuisance,’ she told Alex.

  ‘Oh, please don’t mind me,’ the man said, and Rose noticed that his eyes seemed gentle, yet somehow sad, as he watched Alex darting past.

  ‘Run, run,’ Becky cried.

  ‘You’re too small,’ Rose laughed, pulling her back as she tried to launch herself off.

  ‘Let Becky run too,’ Alex implored. ‘I’ll hold her hand.’

  Rose looked at the other passenger again, and when he smiled she set Becky down on her wobbly legs and felt her heart fill with pride as Becky toddled off with Alex, so thrilled that she was gurgling with glee.

  Though Rose knew she loved them all equally, she’d have to admit, if pushed, that she’d always felt there was something special about Alex, probably because she was their firstborn, or perhaps because she was so engaging. People always wanted to stop and talk to her, and being the sociable little chatterbox she was she usually had plenty to say. Her daddy was completely smitten, to the point that he’d sit and watch her sleeping at night, listening to her breathing and marvelling at what a wonderful little miracle she was. He did the same with the twins, but Rose was aware of a special bond developing between him and Alex that she loved every bit as much as she loved them.

  ‘Look at us, Mummy!’ Alex shouted as she and Becky charged back through the carriage.

  ‘Ssh,’ Rose cautioned, looking at the man again.

  Though he was smiling as he watched them, Rose was struck again by how melancholy he seemed, and being as soft-hearted as she was, she wanted to ask if he was all right. Of course she couldn’t, and nor would she, but when he glanced her way she treated him to one of her warmest smiles. He seemed embarrassed, but pleased, and chuckled aloud as Alex and Becky stormed past again.

  Since no one else got on the train as they passed through the next few stations she allowed the girls to carry on wearing themselves out, until eventually they were approaching Southfields and she called out for them to come back. Alex looked mutinous, but then Becky began squealing as she raced towards her mother, and not wanting to be last Alex sprinted after her. It was as Becky reached the pushchair that Alex caught up and pushed her. Becky fell, hitting her mouth on the wheel, and let out a terrible scream.

  ‘Alex, you naughty girl,’ Rose snapped angrily as she scooped Becky up. Blood was pouring from Becky’s lip, and having found her voice she was belting it out. Then Simon was awake and crying too, while Alex gazed on in fear.

  ‘You’re in big trouble,’ Rose told her over the din, ‘now hold on to my coat while we get off.’

  The train came to a stop as they reached the doors, and still trying to shush Becky, Rose bumped the pushchair on to the platform.

  ‘I hurt, I hurt,’ Becky sobbed.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Rose soothed, afraid she might have lost a tooth. ‘We’ll make it better.’

  ‘No, no,’ Becky squealed, tightening her legs round Rose’s waist as Rose tried to put her in the pushchair.

  Becoming frazzled, Rose turned round to make sure Alex was behind her, and her heart skipped a beat when she realised she wasn’t.

  ‘Alex!’ she shouted in panic. Then she saw her, still on the train, rooted to the spot.

  ‘Alex, get off! Get off!’ Rose yelled as the doors started to close.

  Alex’s eyes were huge as she stared at her mother.

  ‘No, no, no,’ Rose cried, thrusting Becky on top of Simon and dashing back to the train. ‘STOP!’ she screamed, as the doors slammed shut. ‘Please, stop the train!’

  There was a look of terror in Alex’s eyes now.

  ‘HELP!’ Rose yelled as the train started to move. ‘Help!’ She was banging the doors, trying to wrench them apart. ‘My baby, my baby.’

  The man was out of his seat and standing beside Alex with a hand on her shoulder. ‘Next station,’ he mouthed through the window.

  Rose’s terror was blinding. She was shaking so hard she barely knew what she was doing. Next station, was what he’d said. Next station. He’d keep Alex safe and wait with her until Rose and the twins arrived on the next train.

  Chapter One

  NOW EVERYTHING WAS going her way, Lucy Winters wasn’t at all sure this was what she actually wanted. Except it was, of course it was, she just couldn’t help worrying about being careful of what she wished for, and all that … This wasn’t going to backfire on her, was it?

  Since it really didn’t seem likely, she resolved to hold firm and hang on to the courage of her convictions, while Joe, damn him, didn’t seem to be in the least bit fazed by what he was doing. If anything, he seemed to be rather enjoying himself, which might have been annoying if she hadn’t known it was a front.

  Joe was good at those – when he wanted to be.

  As she stood in the bedroom doorway watching him, Lucy’s deep brown eyes kept flicking to the mirror that was propped up against the opposite wall. They’d had this mirror for nine years now and Joe still hadn’t got round to putting it up, so good job Lucy hadn’t been holding her breath. Without her in it, the mirror would show a busy landscape of wild-flower wallpaper, a faux-leather headboard, one nightstand with a recycled Tiffany lamp and a pile of sports mags (on Joe’s side), while hers had a matching lamp and various books about running a business and understanding antiques. With her in it, the mirror became a kind of portrait frame around a tall, gangly woman of thirty-seven with long, shiny dark hair that flopped loosely around her shoulders and a delicate heart-shaped face that became radiant when she smiled.

  Not much radiance going on at the moment.

  In fact, Lucy was wondering how she was managing to show no emotion at all when she was watching the start of her life as she knew it coming to an end. There was plenty going on inside, a whole party of dread, excitement, hope, anticipation, romance (of the strictly non-sexual variety), and sooo much she wanted to say that she simply couldn’t understand how she was managing to stay zipped up.

  Probably because what she was feeling hadn’t yet formed itself into words that she felt safe enough to speak.

  Hearing a door slam downstairs, she tensed and listened. It was either Ben, their son, returning from his friend’s who lived over the newsagent’s at the end of the road, or Hanna, their daughter, leaving home. She hoped it was Ben, not only because of how much steadier she felt when both children were in the house – as if each of their forays into the outside world was going to end in disaster, and plenty did around their neck of the woods, but don’t let her get started on that – but because Ben, at eighteen, was so much better at handling his fifteen-going-on-twenty-five-year-old sister these days than Lucy was.

  So, they were either both downstairs now, or no one was. Given the silence she had to accept it was the latter, which meant that Hanna had stormed off. This caused a mixture of relief and worry to start battling for territory in Lucy’s conscience, and she knew already that the latter would win.

  Joe had always been great with their daughter, or that was what he liked to think, and it was true, they were close, but parenting skills had never really been his forte. However, should the need arise, Lucy was willing to believe that he’d dash into a burning building to rescue one of his offspring, as her own father had once done for her. This would be out of love, of course, and because Joe liked to consider himself a hero. She used to think of him as such during the first years of their marriage, but a lot had changed since then. For a start Hanna had grown up, and, in Luc
y’s opinion, it was because Joe had never yet grasped the concept of saying no to his darling daughter that they were now having such problems with her. Since she’d been old enough to understand, or manipulate, Hanna had always turned to her father for whatever she wanted, which made Joe, in her eyes, God, Santa Claus and Merlin the Magician all rolled into one. He could make any wish come true, or so it seemed to Hanna, and Joe was nothing if not gifted at glossing the myth. This meant that over the years most of the discipline had been left to the snarling old dragon called Mummy, who, Hanna had lately come to realise, needed to get over herself and get a life.

  Well, Hanna was right about that.

  According to Hanna everything that was happening now was Lucy’s fault, and in this instance Lucy had to admit that Hanna had a case, since it had most definitely been Lucy’s decision to get out of the rut they were in. Actually rut was far too mild a description as far as Lucy was concerned, because to her it felt like their very own pothole with endless passageways and no exit, and for someone who’d never have dreamed of taking up such a bizarre hobby she’d long ago reached a point where she needed to get out. Unfortunately Joe, youngest of the infamous East End Winters brothers, didn’t think they were in a rut at all.

  To Joe, this hallowed turf (his words, not hers) was the only place he’d ever wanted to live, or ever would, and his chosen career was the only one he intended to pursue, or ever would. In the case of his brothers a career meant either flogging from the back of a lorry at market (Charlie), or driving a taxi (Vince). In Joe’s case it meant acting, mainly because once, way back when, he’d been cast in a soap opera that had run for several years and turned him into a household name. However, these days even the lowliest walk-on parts were proving almost impossible to come by, since reality TV had jammed a finger in the dyke of drama (Joe’s choice of phrase, not hers). So, now, in between auditions and the odd commercial or voice-over, he was most often to be found in one of ‘the lanes’ (Petticoat, Brick, Leather), working the markets with Charlie; or driving Vince’s minicab when Vince was too hung-over to crawl out of bed. The rest of the time he pumped iron at a gym owned by one of his uncles, or just as often he might be found at the Feathers catching up with a couple of his fellow thesps who, like him, weren’t only role-less, but ageing and agentless.