My eyes open wide. I’d forgotten them. ‘Thank you. I’d foolishly spilled red wine on them.’

‘I saw.’ She turns away.

Taking a deep breath, my mouth tastes grainy from all the sugar in the tea I held. The large amount of milk in it has furred my taste buds, too. I’m not myself. I am a killer. That thought keeps repeating in my mind and I must stop thinking it or it will come out. It has to be buried so deep within that it can never escape.

‘You’re right. It will make me feel better.’

‘Yes.’ She peers at me briefly and then sets about making lunch for my guests.

‘I’ll check on Diana.’

‘Good.’ She smiles then returns to the kitchen.

After a quick phone call to my doctor earlier, he’d said it would be safe to give her a half of one of my sleeping pills. She hadn’t wanted to take it, but she wouldn’t be consoled, and I can’t blame her. The light of her life has gone, and I am responsible.

Opening her bedroom door with care, I creep to her bedside. She is wrapped around her father’s old bear, Ben. Her long dark hair covers most of her face, but the redness of her cheeks is still visible.

God, what have I done? Last night it seemed the only way to protect her, to protect Victor. For them, I pushed the man I loved – the father of my child – over the cliff. It had all been so clear. Despite the bright sunshine breaking through Diana’s curtains, nothing is clear now. I cover my mouth as a sob threatens and I long to hold my beautiful girl, but it feels wrong. I am the cause of her sorrows so how can I soothe them? How can I comfort her? I can’t and I flee from her room.

Tom is walking down the stairs. He stops and looks at me. His glance is filled with a message, but I can’t decipher it. ‘I’ve called Allan’s brother for you.’

‘Thank you.’ I turn away. I’d forgotten him.

‘And the rest of the family.’

I nod. This I understand.

‘Can I do anything else for you?’

I step towards him but stop. ‘No.’ I shake my head.

‘A walk?’

I open my mouth to say yes but pause. ‘No, I need to clean myself up.’

He nods. ‘Later, perhaps.’

‘Yes.’ But I know that walk will not take place. It can’t. He continues down the stairs and I have lost Tom too.

79. Lottie

79

Lottie

5 August 2018, 12.30 p.m.

Lottie couldn’t find her mother in the house and she stood in the hallway unsure what to do. Had her mother already confronted Gran? If she had, would Gran have heard her? The nurse came downstairs and Lottie asked, ‘How is she?’