‘He’s at the house.’ She thought that Milly was too fragile to take too much in right now. Later, maybe she would share the horror of all that she’d discovered in Nula’s journals. But not yet.

Milly’s eyes dropped to her hands, now clasped together in her lap. Belle saw a tear slip down her cheek.

‘Mills, it’s going to be OK. I promise you.’

Milly was shaking her head. ‘No. It’s not.’ Her wet red-rimmed eyes met Belle’s. ‘It’s all such a fucking mess. You know, I always felt pushed aside. First when they adopted Harlan. And then little Jake.’

‘Mills . . .’

‘And then they left everything to Harlan. Nothing for me except a yearly allowance. He was included in the business, he inherited the manor. I was like you, kept out of everything, too fucking useless to be involved. I was just the girl.’

Belle stared at the rage on Milly’s face, taken aback. Milly was such a quiet person, usually; inoffensive. But all this had been boiling away inside her, and now it was overflowing.

‘Mills,’ she said quietly. ‘You have to let this go. Forget Harlan. Forget the past. Make your own life now. Start again.’

‘I don’t know that I can,’ wailed Milly.

‘You? Damned sure. We’re the can-do girls, remember?’ Belle smiled.

Milly’s smile was thin and trembling. But it was there.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘You’re right.’

152

‘What’s happening with Harlan?’ Belle asked Jack when she got back to Beechwood Farm.

‘Nothing much. He’s been talking to Javier Matias from the cartel. Matias will be at the Savoy at one o’clock on Wednesday for a meet.’

Belle sat back, thinking. ‘I want to go to the gatehouse. Get some things. It’s safe now, I suppose?’

Jack nodded. ‘I’ve been nosing around over there. He’s just gone. Probably back to town. Place is deserted. You OK to go back there, after what happened?’

Belle shrugged. ‘I’m fine.’ Don’t think about it. Jack’s words to her. Wise words, too. She wouldn’t think about any of it.

‘Tomorrow morning then. OK?’

‘OK.’

He yawned and held out a hand. ‘Time for bed.’

They had closed the bedroom door on the rest of his mates. Most nights the others were up late, chatting, laughing. Maybe they feared sleep. Belle wondered if maybe in dreams all their past battles came back to haunt them. She didn’t know. Now as she sat down on the edge of the bed, her hand slipped under his pillow and brushed unexpectedly against cold metal.

‘What’s this?’ she asked, lifting the pillow, showing him what she’d found.

‘Insurance,’ said Jack, peeling off his shirt in the half-light.

Belle nodded slowly. She picked up the gun, weighed it in her hand. Remembered emptying three rounds into Ludo’s dead body. Don’t think about it.