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‘I would have lost my job if it all came out,’ Sarah continues. ‘It started slowly. Just one-offs now and again. Oramorph. Morphine tablets. Tramadol. Diazepam. I’d give the patients less than the stated dose, and keep what was left.’ She stares at her coffee, which will be cold by now. ‘Then, I’d sell to desperate people who needed pain relief. I realised I could make quite a bit, so I did it more. And it helped me pay for the essential stuff I needed for me and Ivy.’ She stares at her trembling hands, and tries to still them. ‘I broke down one day when I’d come to see you and you weren’t there. I ended up telling Max everything. He was good to me. He told me I needed to stop and said he’d help me out with money.’
‘He gave you ten thousand pounds, didn’t he?’
She nods. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll give it back. Every penny.’
‘I don’t care about that. I would have given you any amount you needed. Any amount I could afford.’
‘I know.’
‘Max thought I’d stopped, but I hadn’t. He had a go at me. Alice overheard us on the phone and that’s when she said she was going to the police.’
‘She didn’t have to die for that.’ I already know from the video on Poppy’s camera what Sarah did, but I want to hear it from her.
Almost a minute ticks by before she speaks. ‘I want to say that Alice wasn’t the person she’s being painted as. That she wasn’t innocent. Kind. But that’s not true. I think she was a good person – she just got desperate. She tried to cling on to Max with everything she had. Everything she did was driven by her need for him.’ She looks at me. ‘And for her need to protect people’s mental and physical health. She said I was putting people at risk, and she couldn’t ignore it. She said it didn’t matter what I did – she was going to the police about me.’
Through the window, I see blue flashing lights. My body heats up. Sarah doesn’t notice them – she continues talking, telling me every detail of the night she killed Alice.
But then the siren is too loud not to register. Sarah stops talking and slowly turns to look out of the window.
Her face drains of colour, and her eyes widen. She looks like a frightened animal.
I reach across the table and grab her hand, squeezing it gently. ‘I’m here for you. Always. And Ivy. Whatever you need.’
I half expect her to bolt for the door, but she doesn’t. She sits up straight, and begins pulling on her coat, and tying her hair up in a bun. ‘Make sure Dean is the father he should be. Please.’
I nod. ‘I will.’
‘And can you call my mum and tell her where I am? Dean too?’
I can barely manage to say yes.
Sarah stands and walks to the door. She talks to the two officers waiting for her, before they lead her away to the car.
THIRTY-ONE
I’ve never felt so empty as I abandon my coffee on the table and leave the coffee shop, as if my insides have been hollowed out. I knew Sarah would have to face what she’s done – I just wasn’t expecting to have so little time with her before it was all over.
I’m proud of her that she had the strength to make the call to summon them here, because I don’t think I could ever have done it.
Outside, I make the call to Carol, and I gently break it to her that Sarah’s at the police station. She fires frantic questions at me, but I can’t answer any of them. All I can tell her is to get down there as soon as she can.
Then I call Dean on Sarah’s house phone. I don’t expect him to answer – he doesn’t live there – but to my surprise he picks up. Again, I tell him as little as possible, and he promises he’ll look after Ivy until this is all sorted out. ‘I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding,’ he says. ‘Sarah won’t have done anything.’ But his voice is tinged with worry. Perhaps he’s realising how little he knows her.
It’s still snowing as I make my way along Upper Richmond Road. The shop doesn’t open until eleven on Sundays, so Cole will still be at home. There are some things I need to fill him inon, and I need to take care of it now. This feels like a day for closure. For laying the past to rest.
He looks startled when he opens the door and sees me standing there. I’ve never shown up unannounced at his flat before. ‘Hannah! Are you okay?’ He looks at his watch.
‘Can I come in?’
‘Yes, of course. But what’s the matter?’
‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ I assure him, glancing around. ‘Can I come in, then?’
‘Oh, sorry.’ He opens the door wider and I step inside, greeted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Cole’s very particular about the coffee he drinks, and I imagine he’d rather drink dishwater than instant from a jar.
‘Will this take long?’ he asks. ‘I’ve got to get ready to open up.’
‘I’ll be quick, don’t worry. Ella’s in today, isn’t she?’
