David was the family member I saw the least, and I was sorry for it. He had come with me to Madison’s school on that first Monday, showing me the way and bearing with me as I bunny-hopped the unfamiliar automatic car and panicked at the road signs. It meant a lot, small kindnesses like that, when you were as lonely and isolated as I was. Even though he was rarely about, after that day I had begun to consider him my ally.

Rachel

Rachel

I sat in a custody cell listening to the boom of my heart, trying to force it down with deep breaths. It was a ‘dry’ cell, with no water to wash in, presumably in case of splashing away evidence. I had been formally arrested, cautioned, fingerprinted on a little digital machine. They’d swabbed me for DNA. I had been told to undress, in front of a uniformed female officer, stony-faced like DS Hope, and they had taken my clothes and left me in a sort of paper boiler suit, a well-washed sweatshirt on top. I was shivering with shock and cold. The words were echoing in my head.

I’m arresting you for the murder of Anna Devine. I’m arresting you for murder.

Those words again, the worst I could imagine. I had not been charged yet – after all, they could only prove I had been near the body, nothing else. As far as I knew, anyway.

They weren’t unkind. They had offered me dinner, a choice between instant mac and cheese or some kind of beef stew. I had said no – I couldn’t bring myself to eat that jail-house slop again, not unless I absolutely had to, and anyway, my stomach was a mass of knots.

They’d taken my phone, and very politely told me they were searching my house too. I worried about Brandy, but they’d thought of that, and Marilyn had taken her in with her own brood. I needed a lawyer, clearly, and one had been offered, but part of me couldn’t bear it – to have someone throw away my life again, through sheer apathy and incompetence.

I had been questioned thoroughly about my movements on the morning of Anna’s death, if I could prove I’d been at home the night before, that I hadn’t left the cottage. Of course I couldn’t, since I’d been alone. They wanted to know why I’d not reported the body – I had panicked, I said, which was true, but I didn’t explain why. They had asked me too about Alex, when I’d last seen him, if he and Anna were on good terms or not. I had demurred, afraid to lie, not wanting to get him into trouble.

I don’t know. Is anyone on good terms when they’re getting divorced? They were OK, I think.

I was sure they knew I was lying.