Cold air ran down Lottie’s back as she thought of her mother’s diary. ‘What?’ She looked up and her glance met Alex’s as Gran dragged air in, her whole body shaking with the effort.

‘I couldn’t, I couldn’t let him.’

Lottie’s mind ran to places that she didn’t want it to go with that phrase. Was this why her mother didn’t remember him? If he had interfered with her in some way, it began to make more sense. Her skin crawled at the thought. Her poor mother. No wonder she didn’t trust anyone. ‘Couldn’t let him what, Gran?’

Alex put his finger to his mouth and she frowned at him. Lottie wasn’t stopping – she needed to know. Her mother needed to know.

Gran looked her in the eyes. ‘I had no choice, I killed him.’

Lottie froze.

‘I had to.’ Her head thrashed. ‘Forgive me.’

Lottie had to do something. ‘Gran?’

Her eyes closed. Air escaped from her mouth and Lottie wanted to scream. She stared, praying this wasn’t the end. Gran’s chest began to move. She hadn’t left her yet, but it wouldn’t be long.

‘You OK?’ Alex picked up her hand.

Lottie gave him a look to tell him he was insane then whispered, ‘No, how could I be? My grandmother has just told me she killed my grandfather.’

‘Don’t jump to that conclusion.’ He spoke to her as if she was a child who couldn’t understand a concept. ‘She didn’t say that.’

‘Alex don’t play games with me.’

‘I’m not but all she said is she had no choice and she killed him. It could be talking about the family dog, for all we know.’

Lottie wanted to hit him and hug him at the same time. But would Gran be that upset about a dog? She rose to her feet shaking. He pulled her into his arms and she closed her eyes and let herself feel protected for a moment. That sense returned that all was OK when she was in his arms, but it was an illusion. She opened her eyes and looked down on Gran, forcing her brain to accept what it didn’t want to. Gran was leaving – and leaving Lottie holding her guilt.

Her mother burst through the door. Alex looked at Lottie and she nodded. She wouldn’t say a word, not yet anyway. Not until she understood more. But if there was a way she could help her mother, she would.

CROSSROADS

CROSSROADS

43. Lottie

43

Lottie

4 August 2018, 3.00 p.m.

Lottie walked in circles. In her mind, the blue of the sea merged with the green of the lawn and the white walls of the drawing room. All of this was dotted with blurred ancestral portraits. Each step she took didn’t clear her thoughts, in fact, quite the opposite. Gran had killed someone. Someone who was a threat to her mother.