I can’t believe how Joan is just carrying on as if nothing has happened. I caught her hanging out her washing and whistling this morning. Whistling! Like she didn’t have a care in the world. Whilst my baby lies cold in the ground. I screamed at her. I told her she should show some respect. I said that this was all her fault and if it hadn’t been for her then Scarlet would still be here, but she said she didn’t see how that could be true because Scarlet was my child. How could she be to blame when S was my responsibility? But it was her fault. I know it and she knows it. I don’t know exactly how, but I know she hasn’t told me the truth.

I can no longer be in the same room as her. Just seeing her face turns my stomach. She cooks extra for me when she makes her own food and leaves it on a plate in the oven, but when she’s left the kitchen, I go in there and throw it all away. I cannot eat anything that she’s prepared. I would rather starve.

It was clear Evelyn blamed Joan, but Pip couldn’t work out why. She scoured her words for some clue, but found nothing. The relationship between the two women had been strained before Scarlet’s death, but afterwards animosity had turned to hatred, and it showed no sign of abating as time went on. Pip began to wonder whether it was actually a symptom of Evelyn’s grief. Perhaps she was transferring guilt from herself to her sister to make the pain easier to bear. That made sense. Blame and denial were two of the recognised stages of grief.

Or could it be that there was more to Scarlet’s death than met the eye? Despite the tragedy of the story, Pip couldn’t help but be a little intrigued, and this was also the point where the parallel paths between herself and Evelyn diverged. Pip was crippled by guilt for what she had done. It haunted her day and night, and had destroyed everything she had built. And yet there was no such remorse in Evelyn’s thoughts. It was grief that had blighted her life, not guilt.

Pip read on, becoming increasingly frustrated that she was getting such a limited snapshot of the situation, but at the same time feeling Evelyn’s grief as if it were her own child who had been killed. Tears continued to pour down her cheeks as she absorbed Evelyn’s pain.

Thursday 27th October