A shadow had passed over the journalist’s face. A speck of Shannon Carter’s DNA had been found on Peg’s nightdress, she’d explained. Careful – but not careful enough. The messages to Honor proved Carter had been intent on confronting Brinley to stop her exposing the truth. Her elderly great-aunt had been collateral damage.

This early forensic confirmation had lent the stamp of authenticity to their sensational allegations.

With exclusive photographs, recordings and interviews – and safe in the knowledge it was impossible to libel the dead – Brinley’s newspaper devoted several pages to the story, creating a special souvenir edition. The rest of the press pack followed. The story dominated the headlines for days.

Legal moves had begun to quash Catherine’s conviction, the rightful killer now exposed. A neat ending to the Hilltop House murders, tidied up between the pages of a tabloid by the only journalist with a ringside seat.

‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,’ said Catherine, her smiling face resting against the hospital pillows. ‘For giving me back my life.’

Brinley had smiled back.

68

When I was twelve, I was struck by lightning. It left a scar on my back in the shape of a tree.

Now I have other scars. An indentation on my shoulder, a hollow in my leg, a long, thin smile running down the length of my neck.

A scar on my conscience, too.

The flat is filled with flowers. From the newspaper – Congratulations Brinley, and get well soon! – and the publisher – We’re so excited to have you on board – and the Allen family – Thank you for all you have done for us, love Catherine, Edward and Honor x

A new beginning for everyone, including me.

My father visits. He sits in Aunt Peg’s favourite armchair and tells me he has carried the weight of my mother’s death for years.

‘I loved her,’ he says. ‘But even when she was alive, she’d already left me. She knew she was dying. She wanted me to find a mother for you.’ His eyes fill with unshed tears. ‘Afterwards, you were so angry all the time. The lightning strike, the murders, I couldn’t seem to reach you. With the Carter girls gone, Peg offered to try.’ He smiles. ‘And she did a fine job. You do understand that, don’t you? It wasn’t Maureen’s fault.’

I tell him I know that now. I tell him I understand.

My father is the only family I have left. We may drift together or apart, it’s too early to tell. All those years of hurt to be undone. But it’s a start – and that is better than nothing.

Lawrie arrives one evening with an oversized bag of crisps, a six-pack of beer and a pile of books.

I’m surprised to see him. He didn’t come to visit me in hospital.