David agreed, but he remained nervous about not telling the police. Maria carried on begging him not to, that Danny couldn’t possibly know Iona was dead.

That was when she saw the light dawn on him, and she wondered if he’d guessed she was covering for their son. Only he didn’t ask. Maybe he would rather think she was the one capable, too.

That night they made hurried plans for the next few days, both of them talking as an invisible wall grew between them. At some point David had cried out, ‘We should never have done what we did.’

Maria’s heart had stopped beating in that moment, her mouth hanging open. It was a despicable thing to say when they both knew it meant they’d never have had their daughter.

Right then she’d seen their future clearly and she knew for certain at some point it would no longer be together. It broke her heart.

Months later Maria sat alone one night and considered what she finally knew to be the answer to her friend’s question. When Susan had asked her if she could ever trust anyone, there was in fact only one person she believed she could hand-on-heart trust with her family’s life. And she spent the rest of her days thinking this was Annie.

PRESENT

Chapter Thirty-Four

The rain has stopped. This is the first thing I notice. The second is that it’s pitch-black and I’m now lying face down on the back-room floor.

I try moving my head to focus on the golden carriage clock that sits high on a bookcase, but it’s heavy and my eyes swim as the clock hands go in and out in wavy lines. I cannot make out the time.

Next I try shuffling my legs to push myself to sit, but it feels as though I’ve been anaesthetised. Bonnie described once how it felt like she’d had the legs of an elephant when she’d had an epidural. I’d laughed at the time.

Bonnie.

Sickness surges through me and my head drops back on to my hands. An unbelievable wave of sadness hits me at the thought of my sister. I wish I’d told her I was coming. I wish I’d told anyone. I never should have come in the first place.

My eyes flutter closed again, their lids pressing together. It feels much better like this.

There’s a dampness between my legs and I inch my hand closer to touch it. Have I wet myself?

My eyelids flicker open again. There are voices the other side of the door. Annie. I hear her talking to someone, telling him – what is she saying? She says they have no choice.

Bob answers – something undecipherable.

‘You’ll have to,’ Annie says.

She’s brought him here. He knows I’m lying on the other side of the door. Why’s she done that?