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As I climb the stairs back to the Beach House, I spot Celia Roberts walking briskly away from the hotel, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that should look way too young for her, but don’t, the gold chiffon scarf from last night knotted stylishly at her throat. I duck quickly out of sight as I reach the top of the staircase, and she disappears around the side of the terrace without seeing me.
For a fleeting moment, I consider going to her and telling her what Andy’s done to Bella. Instinctively, I know she is the one person who’d understand what needs to happen now, and would be ruthless enough to do it. She likes Andy, loves him, even; but her protective love for her children, her grandchildren, is primal and far stronger. Perhaps losing a child shapes you in ways you don’t expect.
I dismiss the thought. She might not believe my story, and I’m not willing to risk her raising the alarm. I wait until I’m sure she’s not coming back, and then head quickly down to the Beach House. Andy is still snoring on the sofa, sleeping off the half-bottle of Scotch heput away last night. I go into the bathroom and change back into the red tunic I’ve been so careful to be seen in, and take a deep, steadying breath as I get Louise’s steak knife from my bag. This is it, then. It’s time.
Now that the moment is at hand, I feel oddly calm and clear-headed. The decision has been made; the sentence has been passed. All I have to do now is carry it out.
My alibi is far from rock-solid, the timings of my comings and going to the lagoon imprecise, but I just have to hope Louise’s fingerprints on the murder weapon are enough to muddy the waters. I don’t want to frame her. Not exactly. But she and I are bound together in this, whether she knows it or not. It’s her daughter I’m protecting. We both have a motive; we both have means and opportunity. If they can’t tell which of us did it, they’ll have to let us both go. Reasonable doubt. That’s all I need.
I return to my sleeping husband and eye his neck, picturing the knife slicing through the soft skin, the bright vermilion jet of arterial blood as his life and lies drain away from him. It can’t be that hard to find the jugular. I’m not a medic, but I learned how to take someone’s pulse on a first aid course at Whitefish a year or two ago. Presumably you cut in the same place.
I grip the knife a little more tightly. I’m so close I can smell the stale whisky on his breath. Now is the perfect time. Andy deserves this. I didn’t think twice over the cat, and Bagpuss was far more worthy of life.Now. Strike now.
My hand shakes. I exhale sharply. I can’t do it.Goddammit, I can’t do it!
Rage seizes me with all the power and momentum of a contraction during active labour. I drop the knife with a clatter onto the side table and flee out onto the balcony, despising myself for my weakness. I’ve failed Bella. I’m no better than my mother. The fury pythons its way around my body, constricting my chest so tightly I can’t breathe. I have to grip the railing to stop myself from leaping over it. I hate Andy with all my being, but love is stronger, even now.
I don’t know how long I stand there: a minute, or twenty. I’m brought back to myself by the sound of a door slamming, as if caught by the wind. And then a quiet, terrible, rasping, mortal sigh.
I spin round. Andy is standing in the centre of the room, his back towards me. Even as I watch, he staggers backwards, clutching at his neck like the victim in a B slasher movie. Gouts of shocking red blood spill between his fingers. I see the knife, the knife I dropped a lifetime ago, sticking from his throat like a grotesque toy.
And then I see Bella.
Her head swivels towards me like a marionette’s as I stand frozen in horror on the balcony. She stares at me blankly, catatonic with shock, as Andy collapses to his knees on the floor between us, gurgling and choking on his own blood. I gape at her, aghast, and then rush to Andy’s side. The light is already fading from his eyes. ‘Dear God, Bella,what happened?’
She just looks at me. And then she screams, a high, unnatural sound that sends chills down my spine. It sounds as if she’s burning from the inside out.
Moving faster than I’d have thought possible, I leap up and grab her by the arms, forcing her back towards the front door, away from the gory sight of her father dying on the floor. Bella didn’t mean to do this. She must have finally snapped, and the knife was justthere. Right where I left it. She did what I couldn’t. What Iwantedto do. I refuse to let anyone else’s life be ruined by this monster.
‘Go,’ I say roughly, propelling her towards the door. She has blood on her shorts and bikini top; my own bloodied hands leave grisly smears on her bare arms. ‘Go to the beach,’ I tell her. ‘Swim in the sea. You need to get the … you need to beclean.’
She looks at me, her eyes glassy. I have no idea if she understands.
‘Bella, you were never here,’ I press urgently. ‘I’ll deal with this. It was an accident, it wasn’t your fault. Swim in the sea, then get back to the hotel, do you understand?You were never here.’
Finally she starts to stumble down to the sand. I slam the door shut and rush back to the sitting room. Vomit rises in my throat as I lean over Andy’s body, but I can’t afford emotion now; he is not the man I once loved, the father of my son, but a problem to be solved, a crisis to be handled. I pull the knife from his neck, wiping the handle on my tunic to remove Bella’s fingerprints. Someone will have heard her screaming. It won’tbe long before they raise the alarm. I have minutes, at most, to make it seem like she was never here.
I don’t even get that.
I’m struck from behind by a blow between the shoulder blades so powerful it knocks the breath out of me. I pitch forward onto Andy’s body, instinctively curling my hands over my head to protect myself. I get a glimpse of Louise’s face, contorted with fury, but I don’t have a chance to explain. She slams the lamp into me again, and I scream in agony as the heavy marble makes contact with my upper arm. Suddenly I’m parrying a flurry of vicious blows as we struggle in mortal combat. She’s got the element of surprise; she’s winning. I actually think she might kill me.
She raises the lamp to strike yet again, but as I cower, she suddenly slips in Andy’s blood. The lamp falls from her hand as she loses her footing, and lands heavily on her back.
I shuffle backwards away from her before she has a chance to regroup. Searing pain shoots through my shoulder as I push myself upright against the wall, panting, my arm hanging uselessly at my side.
The knife lies on the floor between us. I lunge for it, but Louise gets to it at the same time, knocking it from my hand. The knife skitters away from both of us, coming to rest in a glistening ruby pool of blood by Andy’s body.
My breath is coming in tight, painful rasps. I think she may have broken some of my ribs, too. I hear shouts outside, and the distant sound of running feet. Soundcarries across the water; Bella’s screams were blood-curdling.
Louise hears the voices too. She rocks back on her heels, and pushes her hair out of her eyes with the inside of her wrist, leaving scarlet smears on her face. We are both drenched in Andy’s blood.
I glance towards the beach, praying Bella reached the hotel unseen, that she keeps her head. I nearly pass out from the pain in my shoulder, but I force myself to concentrate. There’s only one way we can save Bella now. But to do it, we’re going to have to trust each other.If they can’t tell which of us did it, they’ll have to let us both go.
‘Louise,’ I say quickly. ‘We don’t have much time.’
Five months later
Chapter 44
