If there was one thing she’d never doubted before, it was Flora’s love for her. But since the other evening, when she’d whipped – it still made her cringe to think of it – Dylan, and Flora had pushed her over, her sister had been avoiding her and the chasm between them was widening. She couldn’t allow that to happen. They’d been through too much together.

She’d shot their father for Flora, for Christ’s sake.

Chapter 39

39

Margot

The air is stale inside the compact interview room and Margot has to remind herself to breathe. Her palms are sweating and she pulls the scarf away from her throat. It feels like it’s choking her. Oh, how she hates confined spaces. She’s happiest when she’s in the open, or when she’s riding her horse across the Gallops. It’s only then she feels she can really breathe. She takes a sip of warm water from the plastic cup a sympathetic WPC had given her when she first arrived.

Adam had offered to come with her to Bridewell, but she’d refused, saying she would rather be alone. But she’s regretting that now. It would have been better to have someone with her. She wishes Heather was at her side or, failing that, Jess’s reassuring, no-nonsense presence.

She’d been to see Heather that morning to tell her about Flora.

Heather was making excellent progress. The police still hadn’t formally interviewed her and wouldn’t until the doctors determined that she was well enough. A police officer continued to stand guard outside her door. Sometimes they even came into the room and sat quietly next to the bed. Margot was sure this was in case Heather said something incriminating in her sleep. She hopes she hasn’t.

Heather had been dozing when Margot arrived that morning. She was on so many drugs and painkillers, plus intravenous antibiotics because the wound to her chest had become infected, and they made her sleepy. But her brain activity was normal, there was no sign of swelling, and the doctors said, once the infection had gone and her wound began to heal, she could be discharged. Discharged where? That was the question that most bothered Margot.

Margot had sat on the chair next to Heather’s bed and stroked her hair away from her face. ‘Heather,’ she had said, ‘are you awake?’

Heather’s eyes had fluttered open and she’d smiled. She sat up and asked if Margot had brought Ethan with her.

‘Adam’s bringing him later.’

Heather flopped back against the pillows. ‘I miss him so much. I just want to get out of here.’

‘I know, sweetheart.’