Heather thought about the painkillers Stephen had given her before they left the hospital.

‘Heather?’ he called. ‘Everything okay?’

51

TULLY

Tully’s marriage was over. It was, she realised, just the last item on the never-ending list of things she’d lost. Her mother. Her father. Her dignity. Now Sonny. He’d been unhappy with her for weeks, even when she was trying her best not to steal. There was no way he would stay with her now.

She was at the police station around the corner from the hardware store, and Sonny was on his way to get her. It was one of those old-school police stations with a small foyer, a desk and a window that slid open. She was in a tiny interview room alone, because she’d refused to give a statement. She knew things didn’t look good for her. The police had CCTV footage of her taking the items.

The shame had taken longer than normal to come, perhaps due to the shock of the arrest, but now that it was here, it was epic. And not only did she have the shame of the theft, but also of being caught. What was wrong with her? Her whole life her family had joked that she was mad. Was she? Not just a little peculiar, a little quirky, but downright crazy? Perhaps she’d be admitted to some kind of asylum? Maybe, while mounting her defence, Sonny would enter a plea of insanity to keep her out of prison? The horror and shame of that was tempered only by the idea of a stint in a cool calm hospital with clean lines and muted furniture. Meals delivered and ‘talk therapy’. She’d probably befriend a whole lot of whackos in there. Maybe she could write a book about it? A memoir of her experiences in a sanatorium. It could be a career to help her get back on her feet once she was discharged.

She was startled from her fantasy by Sonny’s arrival. She heard him before she saw him. ‘Sonny Harris. My wife Natalie is –’

‘Through here,’ the guy at the desk said, and then the buzzer sounded, the one that had buzzed to let Tully through. Men were so dry in terms of greetings, Tully thought.

A moment later, Sonny stood in the doorway to her little room.

‘Have you admitted to anything?’ he asked.

She shook her head.

‘Given a statement?’

‘No.’

He nodded, looking relieved. Then he turned to the police officer. ‘Is my wife under arrest?’

‘We haven’t arrested her,’ he said. ‘But we have CCTV footage that shows her leaving the store with goods concealed under her clothing, plus two witnesses. And the items amounted to nearly a thousand dollars, so it will go to court. This is your notice to appear.’ He handed the paperwork to Tully.

Tully tried to read Sonny’s expression. He didn’t look angry exactly, nor did he look forgiving. He just looked . . . tired. ‘Is she free to go?’ he asked.