‘I’ll leave you in peace.’

60

June 2018

I DIDN’T KILL LILY. Lily is not Lila.

But I did kill Lila. And for the first time in thirty years, I’m ready to ask questions. If Mary could risk everything for her daughter, I can surely stand up to my mother. It’s too late for Lila, but I owe it to her memory to find out the truth.

Cynthia is asleep on the couch when I arrive on Saturday morning, and annoyed at being woken.

‘It’s eleven a.m.,’ I tell her, and she looks surprised. At the time or at my retort, I can’t tell. She’s not used to retorts.

‘The kids need more photos for the family tree project. Could I take some from the tin in your wardrobe – or maybe the whole box?’ I chance.

Head tilted, an amused look on her face, she folds her arms. ‘I’m not stupid. This isn’t for any project. What are you up to?’

The impulse to tell her is so strong. To let it all out, finally.

She shakes her head, a smirk on her dry lips. ‘You were a creepy little mouse when you were young, always hovering on the edge. Tiptoeing around everyone, afraid of your own shadow. Afraid to speak up. And you haven’t changed a bit, have you. Go on, show a bit of backbone for once. Spill. Why do you want the photos?’

‘I’d like to know where she came from. If she was really my sister.’

The smirk disappears.

‘Don’t you dare bring her up. After what you did? Don’t you dare.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry? What good is that? You killed her.’ Her voice goes up a notch. ‘“Sorry” doesn’t bring her back!’

‘I know. But I was ten. A child.’

‘What are you trying to say? That it was my fault for leaving you in charge? I had to work!’

This. This has always been her story, and for years, long before Lila came to us, I pictured her working every hour to pay the bills. Not swanning around Rowanbrook, drinking wine and going on picnics. Anger is taking over now, invading the spot where guilt has lived for more than thirty years.

‘You can’t leave a child in charge of another child! This is like when people blamed Cora O’Brien for what happened to Lily Murphy.’ I lock eyes with her. ‘Why did Lila look so much like Lily Murphy? Did you have an affair with Robbie Murphy?’

‘Ha! No. No, I did not. I’ve told you who she was. Now, I’ve had enough of this. Get me a drink and get out of my flat.’

I stand my ground. ‘Yes, you’ve told me who she was but I don’t believe you any more. She looks like Lily, and I know you were in Rowanbrook in the eighties. Did you sleep with Robbie?’

She shakes her head. ‘Look at your prissy face, judging me. Holier than thou, Joanna Kirk, who never put a foot wrong.’ She leans forward, warming to her theme. ‘You know that people don’t actually like spending time with someone who thinks they’re better than everyone, don’t you? You know that’s why you had no friends growing up – because you’re a judgemental prig.’