‘I’ve been thinking about Deirdre a lot,’ Margot says, trying to move the conversation on. She hasn’t seen Jess in nearly twenty years and now here she is, asking her to stay over. Jess must think she’s lonely and desperate. ‘And wondering what transpired between her and Heather when she stayed here earlier this year. I haven’t told the police yet.’

‘Oh, Margot! You should,’ says Jess. ‘I think Clive was into some dodgy dealings. I found a card outside his mother’s house, the kind that comes with flowers. It said, “This was one bullet you couldn’t dodge.” He obviously had enemies.’

Margot pushes her bowl of soup away from her. She’s hardly eaten any and it’s cold. Since Heather was taken to hospital the weight has been falling off her. Now her collarbones jut out and her once tight-fitting jodhpurs are loose. ‘But his mother, Deirdre. Surely not her.’ This was one bullet you couldn’t dodge. Where has she read that before?

Jess shrugs and Margot notices she hasn’t eaten much either. ‘I don’t know. I’m in the process of gathering more information about them from the neighbours. But as they haven’t lived there that long …’ Jess sighs.

Margot stretches, her back hurting on the hard chair. She suggests they move into the living room and Jess nods encouragingly. She can see, by the clock on the wall, that it’s gone nine. She doesn’t want Jess to leave yet.

It’s not until they’ve settled at either end of the sofa, Margot with another drink in her hand, Jess with water, that she reveals the nugget of information she’s been keeping to herself.

‘When the police called about the fingerprints, they said something else,’ she admits. ‘About Heather.’

Jess sits forwards, her eyes brimming with expectation.

‘Her car was caught on CCTV earlier that morning. The morning of the shootings. At around five a.m. Fifteen miles away. In Bristol.’

Jessica’s eyes widen. ‘In Bristol?’

‘Yes. Southville.’

‘What would she be doing there?’

‘I don’t know. The police asked if we know anyone who lives in that area but we don’t. I just don’t understand what she would have been doing in Bristol at that time in the morning. I keep thinking about it. Was she looking for her victim, with a shotgun in the car? I just …’ Margot covers her face with her hands.

‘Oh, Margot …’

They’re interrupted by the shrill buzzing of Margot’s phone. They both turn towards where it sits on the coffee table. Margot reaches for it. ‘It’s Adam. I’d better answer,’ she says.

Margot’s never heard her son-in-law sound so animated. ‘I’ve had a call from the hospital, Marg. It’s Heather. She’s come around. She’s awake.’

Chapter 25

25

Margot