I’ve never been to Gloucestershire but now, through the power of the internet, I can. My skin tingles as I enlarge the picture and step into a golden world. A world where everyone is wealthy and secure, where the floors are polished and gleaming, the gardens manicured and bursting with fragrant plants and flowers. A world of laughter and sunshine and families gathered together at outdoor tables, an abundance of food and drink. It should be making me feel better, but as I wander through this fantasy land, it only reminds me of what I have lost.

‘Come through.’

Georgie’s voice cuts into my thoughts and I look up. What I see makes the room constrict and my hand, poised over the computer mouse, starts to shake. There are two police officers standing in the doorway, one male, one female. Behind them I see my sister’s face, all colour drained away.

‘Iris Lawson?’ says the male officer, his eyes fixed on me.

The name sinks like a stone in my stomach, but I nod my head all the same.

Georgie pushes past them and comes to stand next to me.

‘There must be some mistake,’ she says, placing her hand on my shoulder, her voice solid and commanding, ever the older sister. ‘Her name is –’

‘Shh,’ I interrupt, shrugging my sister’s hand away. ‘It’s okay, Georgie.’

‘I’d like to ask, Miss Lawson,’ continues the officer, a flabby-faced man who looks to be in his mid-fifties, ‘if you know a man named Geoffrey Rivers?’

I look up at him. His eyes are the colour of damp autumn leaves. I turn from him to my sister. She shakes her head. We both know the significance of the name.

‘Yes,’ I whisper, my hand still hovering on the mouse. ‘Yes, I do.’

The officer nods his head then takes a step forward.

‘Well, in that case, Miss Lawson,’ he says, his voice hardening, ‘I’d like to ask you to accompany me to the police station. We need to ask you a few questions.’

‘Why do you need to do that?’ cries Georgie. ‘What’s happened?’

‘I’m afraid Mr Rivers was found dead at his home in Hampstead,’ he replies, his voice steady.

I hear my sister inhale sharply. In front of me the screen darkens, obliterating Gloucestershire and polished floors and perfect lives, leaving me only with the stark truth of what I have done.

2. Then

July 2017