‘They’re on that road with the big houses – Roscoe Crescent,’ I tell her, since clearly Holly has no interest in engaging in conversation.
‘I’ve run down that road. Gorgeous houses. Which one is theirs?’
‘The one with the conifers at the front.’
‘Kate?’ Holly says.
‘You go,’ Teri says. ‘It was nice to meet you, Holly.’
‘You, too,’ Holly replies.
After I drop Holly off, I drive to the lane in the woods. Just to take a look, make sure it’s the right place.
I park on the side road and walk to that exact bend. It takes almost an hour, but it’s just as I remember. Isolated and a little creepy. When I get to the end, I wrap my coat tighter, step carefully to the verge and look over. The slope is steep, about eight feet, maybe ten, above a tangle of trunks and bracken.
Am I really going to do this? I stand there for a long time, overcome by an overwhelming sense of guilt and regret – the kind that makes you want to curl up in the corner of the room and pretend it was all a bad dream. I wish with all my heart we hadn’t done what we did. Yesterday, it made sense. Today, I am convinced we could have figured it out. We could have told the police that it really was self-defence. We could have built a case. I acted too quickly. I acted on impulse, and I should have protected her, and now we’re in this mess, and it’s partly my fault.
Maybe I can still do it. Maybe I could explain that we panicked.
God, Kate, don’t be ridiculous. It’s far too late for that.
I walk back to the road and to my car. It’ll be fine. He won’t be found for ages, I don’t think. It could be weeks.
I am almost home when my phone rings. It’s Holly.
‘Everything—’
‘Kate! Oh God! I’m sorry! I fucked up! I’m so sorry! Oh, God! Please come!’
12
I race through the streets – quiet streets, thank God – like a madwoman, Holly’s voice still ringing in my ears.I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please come!I should never have sent her away. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course she couldn’t handle it. Her father has just died. No, it’s worse than that. She has justkilledher father, and here I am sending her to a friend’s place with the friend’s parents right there and expecting her to function, to make idle conversation.And how is your dad, Holly? He’s fine, thank you, Mrs Parker.What is it I told her? Just pretend that everything is normal. Be happy. Enjoy yourself. Pretend it was all a bad dream.
I replay the conversation in my mind, but she wasn’t making any sense. ‘Where are you? What happened?’ I kept asking. ‘Tell me where you are.’
‘It’s that woman,’ she was saying between sobs.
‘What woman, Holly?’
‘Oh God, just come. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please come.’
And she gave me an address that isn’t where Scarlett lives, but I couldn’t get any sense out of her.
How could I have been so stupid? Of course she broke down. Of course she told someone. She cracked. Why wouldn’t she? She’s sixteen years old, for Christ’s sake.
I’ll have to tell them that I did it, that it was me. She’s too young; it’s not fair. ‘He was a horrible man,’ I’ll say. ‘That’s why I did it.’ I’ve got a better chance of convincing a jury that it was the right thing to do – that killing him was the only option in that moment.
But Holly cannot say anything else. That’s what I hissed at her before running to my car, ‘Not another word, Holly. I’ll take care of it.’
I drive like a maniac, and five minutes later I turn into the street Holly told me. This is a quiet, residential street with houses hidden behind tall fences and trees. There’s no traffic, no people. Complete silence.
Where the hell is she? Then I see them up the road, Holly and Scarlett standing next to a car.
A Mini Cooper. Wait… Scarlett’s car?
Both girls are standing near the front, arms wrapped around themselves. Holly turns around just as I pull up. Once I get out of the car, she throws herself against me, knocking the breath out of me.
‘Don’t say anything,’ I urge in a low voice.
