‘This is pure conjecture.’ Bill interrupts. ‘What you’re suggesting has absolutely no basis in fact.’
‘But in the context, it’s perfectly believable.’ DI Lacey looks at him, then back at me. ‘And facts are somewhat lacking. You’re economical with words, Ms Rose, when it suits you, while Ms Reid, however, omits entire chapters. Neither of you seem to comprehend the gravity of the situation.’ He pauses. ‘As well as prospectively facing charges for perverting the course of justice, both of you potentially face a murder charge.’
Jess
After speaking to the custody centre, I go to find Cath. ‘They’re charging Mum.’ As I try to speak, suddenly my legs feel weak. I try to go on, but the emotions I’ve kept at bay catch up with me. Struggling, I get a hold of myself. ‘What happens now?’ Wiping away tears, I look at Cath. ‘Will they make her go to court? What am I going to do?’ All along I’ve believed the police would realise the mistake they’ve made. But if she’s sentenced … Where does that leave me? What happens to our home?
Cath’s arm goes around me. ‘Nothing’s decided yet, Jess. You mustn’t give up.’ She pauses. ‘We should talk to your dad. If the press get hold of this, he’s going to find out. Far better he hears from us.’
I shake my head. ‘He won’t be any help. He never has been. And he doesn’t really care.’ Looking ahead, I see myself becoming one of those students who has no home to go to during uni breaks, one of a handful left on a deserted campus, instead of catching the train back home.
‘It isn’t over yet.’ Cath’s voice is firm. ‘Let’s take each step at a time. First thing, call your dad. There’s no need to commit to anything. And we can stay at Zoe’s for a while. She’s in no hurry for us to leave.’
‘What about you?’ I look at her. ‘You have your own life, in Bristol. You’ve only just moved. The last thing you want to do is stay here with me.’
Cath comes over and hugs me. ‘Your mother’s one of my oldest friends. She was there when I needed her.’ Her voice is muffled in my hair. ‘Let’s just say I owe her.’
*
With my entire life on hold, I’m humbled by Zoe’s kindness. Then while I’m alone at Zoe’s, I receive a phone call from PC Page.
‘Jess? I thought you’d want to know, your mother’s been moved to Bronzefield prison, in Surrey. She’s being held on remand, but if you contact the prison, you can arrange a visit.’
Clutching the phone, it strikes me how much more sinister remand sounds than custody. ‘How long will she be there?’ My voice is small.
‘Until the case goes to court. We don’t have a date yet.’
I’m silent for a moment, thinking. ‘What if someone finds something to prove her innocence?’
‘Jess, the police investigation has been thorough. You have to trust us on that one.’ She pauses. ‘But if someone did find something, of course it would be taken into consideration.’ Then she adds, ‘We’ve finished at your house. You’re free to go back any time you want to.’
Out of habit, I start to say thank you, but stop myself. I’m not grateful to the police for anything. They’ve devastated my mother’s life, mine too. And whatever evidence they think they have, they’ve got this wrong.
*
In Zoe’s kitchen, sitting at the large table, I’m trying to work out what to do as Cath comes back in.
‘The police called a little while ago. They’ve moved Mum to Bronzefield prison. They’re holding her on remand. But I can visit.’
Cath drops her shopping. ‘We need to contact them. I’ve no idea what the procedure is. I’ll get my laptop and find a number for them.’
I watch her hurry upstairs to fetch it. Then when she comes back, I apologise. ‘Sorry. I should have asked the police. I was so thrown I didn’t think.’
‘Don’t worry about it. You have far too much on your mind.’ Pausing as she turns on her laptop, waiting a couple of minutes, before typing into the search bar. ‘Did you say Bronzefield?’ When I nod, she goes on. ‘Right. I’ve found their website. Everything we need to know is here, including the number to call. When do you want to go?’
‘Any time?’ I stare at her. ‘If you’re sure? Soon? Whenever you’re free?’
‘Let’s see what they say.’ Getting her phone, she calls the number.
I let her make the call, overwhelmed with gratitude that she cares enough to help me. After she finishes talking on the phone, she looks at me. ‘We need to take ID but it’s fixed for tomorrow morning at half-past ten. Is that OK with you?’
I nod, both terrified and overcome by the most profound relief.
*
The following morning, Zoe makes me breakfast and fusses around me. ‘Jess? Please let your mum know we’re all thinking of her and hoping she’s soon home. OK?’
As I nod, she goes on. ‘And I know you’re free to go home now, but if you’d rather, you’re still welcome to stay here as long as you want to.’
‘Thank you.’ There’s a lump in my throat. In a world that feels against me, there seems no end to Zoe’s kindness.
*
It isn’t long before Cath and I set off for Ashford, in Surrey, where Bronzefield is; the thought of seeing my mother a deceptive ray of brightness in looming clouds that haven’t quite reached us. But I don’t allow myself to think of the court case that lies ahead, only of the time I have left, in which to prove her innocence.
The roads are busy, the closer we get to London, the heavier the traffic, but at last we turn off the motorway and it isn’t long before the imposing exterior of the prison looms into view. Suddenly my nerves are back.
It’s as if Cath reads my mind. ‘Would you like me to come in with you? There must be somewhere I can wait while you go and talk to her.’
‘Thanks. If you don’t mind.’
Turning into the car park, she reverses into a parking space. ‘Of course I don’t.’ Switching off the engine, she turns to look at me, then says more quietly, ‘It will be OK, Jess.’
I’m silent. Right now, it’s hard to believe anything will ever be OK.
She gets out. ‘Shall we do this?’
As we walk across the car park, I don’t know what I’m expecting. I’m visiting a woman charged with murder, after all, but when we reach the visitors’ reception, we’re treated courteously as they check our ID, then go into a waiting area, but not for long. Only a short while later, I’m asked to make my way to the main building.
Leaving Cath where she is, I go outside, and round to the main entrance. After presenting photo ID, my biometrics are recorded, then I go through airport-like security, before I’m allowed through an electric door into the visitors’ hall.
Inside, I’m taken by surprise. It’s far more comfortable than I thought it would be, with soft chairs and a children’s play area. With only two or three other people in there, I find a couple of seats away from them, where I wait for my mother.
When she comes in, I almost don’t recognise her. As she walks towards me, her hair is lank, her skin dull, her eyes as though she’s closed herself up. But they light up the moment she sees me. ‘Mum …’ Jumping up, I want to run towards her but unsure what the protocol is, I force myself not to. She hurries towards me, then her arms are around me.
‘Are we allowed to hug?’ My eyes are filled with tears.
‘I don’t care.’ But keeping hold of my hand, she pulls away slightly. ‘Just in case. Sit down, Jess. Tell me how you are.’
‘I’m fine.’ Watching her soak up my presence, hanging on my every word, tears pour down my cheeks. ‘Really I am. I don’t know how long we have. I need you to fill me in about all the stuff I don’t know. I know you didn’t kill Matt. I’m not giving up until I find out who did.’
Her hand touches my cheek. ‘Sweet Jess.’ She’s silent.
‘Mum.’ My voice is urgent, insistent, the loudest whisper I can manage. ‘I’m your only hope. Please. Whatever it is you’re not saying. You have to tell me.’
A
shadow crosses her face. ‘Please tell me the police are still searching for Matt?’
‘They have to be.’ Her words shock me. I hadn’t considered they might not be.
When she glances away, I know my hunch was right. There is something she’s been keeping from me. She meets my gaze. ‘I never wanted you to know any of this.’ When she hesitates, I’m filled with trepidation at what she’s about to say. ‘It’s all going to come out at some point. This is about far more than Matt.’ She looks stricken. ‘It goes back to what happened to your aunt. Kimberley.’
Looking at her, I frown. I’d always known that Kimberley had died tragically, at seventeen. But as she proceeds to tell me what really happened that day, and about Allie’s obsession with Kimberley’s boyfriend, Charlie, my jaw drops open. It’s the first I’ve heard of my aunt being poisoned. ‘The police thought Kimberley accidentally got hold of one of our grandmother’s remedies. It was described as a tragic accident. But it wasn’t. Only my grandmother knew what had really happened.’
I stare at her, shocked. ‘But you didn’t do it. Allie did. Surely the police must believe that?’
‘I think they do now.’ She pauses. ‘But I told too many lies, Jess. I was trying to hide the truth about what really happened to Kimberley, terrified that Allie would convince the police it was my fault. The last time I saw her, she swore that one day she’d be the one people would listen to – not me. And she is – she’s a lawyer now. There’s another thing …’ Breaking off again, she’s silent. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I found this out, but it turns out Allie was Matt’s other woman. The woman he was allegedly leaving me for.’
‘No way.’ Shocked, I’m thinking quickly. ‘That’s too weird to be a coincidence. Could she have made it all up?’
‘I don’t know what to think.’ My mother looks defeated. ‘Jess, all I can imagine is that someone’s trying to avenge something from the past. Probably Kimberley’s death – only because I can’t think of anything else. Presumably someone who holds me responsible, so they killed Matt first, before setting me up. I’ve told the police what I’ve told you about Kimberley. I’ve no idea whether they’ve questioned Allie, and if they have, whether they’ve arrested her. For all I know, she could have convinced them of her innocence, so they let her go.’
‘What’s Allie’s full name?’ I’m desperately trying to memorise every word she says, knowing I need to take it away with me.
‘Allie Macklin. Except she changed her name.’ She’s silent for a moment. She’s Fiona Rose now. Fiona was her middle name.’ Then she looks ashamed. ‘I changed mine, too, Jess. My name was Emily Preston. I thought Amy was close enough to Emily that if I slipped up, no-one would notice.’
‘I don’t blame you for changing your name.’ But as it sinks in, I wish she’d told me before. It would have helped me understand so much more, about my mother, her parents, my family. ‘Most people would have done exactly the same.’ I pause, curious. ‘When did you last see her?’
‘Years ago.’ My mother sighs. ‘She came to the house we were living in at the time – in Eastbourne. You were a baby. After Kimberley died, Allie and I lost touch. But that day she came round, she was venomous. She told me how her parents had sent her away, then disowned her, all of which she blames me for. When she came and found me, I was still with your dad. After I opened the door, she just barged in and started throwing her weight around. She was clearly erratic, to the point you couldn’t imagine anyone would take her seriously, but she was determined she was going to change that.’ As she speaks, my mother’s eyes are filled with anxiety. ‘It was a kind of threat. She wanted to make herself more credible than I was, almost as if she knew this was going to happen so that one day, it would be her who was believed, not me.’
‘Do you think the police will believe her?’ I look at her, alarmed.
‘I’ve no idea.’ My mother looks helpless. ‘But it’s important that you do, Jess. I didn’t kill Matt and I didn’t kill Kimberley. I couldn’t have – I’m not made that way. It was Allie. She was jealous. She wanted Charlie for herself. We made a potion together to make Kimberley fall out of love with Charlie, but it was never meant to be anything more than harmless.’
‘I do believe you.’ I’m still stunned, but it explains the feeling I’ve had, that she’s been keeping something from me.
‘My grandmother took responsibility.’ My mother’s eyes are haunted. ‘She told the police that it was her fault that the herbs were accessible to anyone else. But she knew full well it wasn’t.’
Staring blankly ahead, realising how long my mother’s kept this hidden, I try to think what to do. Then I look at her again. ‘There must be something else you can tell me – about that time. Who else was there? Your grandmother? Or Kimberley’s boyfriend?’
My mother’s eyes cloud over, as she remembers. ‘My grandmother was. Our house was hers, Jess. She left it to me, so that I’d forever be reminded of Kimberley’s death. It was her way of punishing me. And poor Charlie Brooks … I’ll never forget him. The irony is, Allie never had a chance with Charlie. After Kimberley died, he killed himself.’ She glances away, but not before I notice her eyes are filled with tears. ‘So many deaths, Jess. Kimberley, Charlie, my parents … It was devastating. All because of one reckless act of stupidity, by one selfish person, who until now, has got away with it.’
*
As Cath drives us back to Brighton, I’m deep in thought, oblivious to everything around me, in my mind going over and over what my mother told me, searching for a link between her, Allie and Matt. There has to be a clue, somewhere, to what the police are missing.
Halfway back to Brighton, I turn to Cath. ‘Would you mind if we called in at home? Not to stay. I just want to look for something.’
She nods. ‘OK. Anything in particular?’
I pause, then I tell her what my mother said, using her words, because if the court case goes ahead, it’s only a matter of time before everyone will know. ‘I found out something today. Mum’s real name isn’t Amy Reid. It’s Emily Preston.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Her sister died when she was fifteen. Everyone thought it was an accident, but it wasn’t. Mum’s friend, Allie, caused her death. It was hushed up at the time, but suddenly the police have found out about it. It happened in our garden – our house used to belong to her grandmother. Before she died, she left it to Mum.’ I pause, because I’m not sure about how much Cath knows. ‘It’s the weirdest thing about Allie – or Fiona, as she’s called now …’ I stop; it really is strange. ‘She’s the same woman Matt was going to leave Mum for.’
‘You are joking.’ Cath’s flabbergasted. ‘God.’ There’s another silence. ‘That’s too weird to be a coincidence, surely?’
‘It’s why I want to go back to the house. I know the police have searched it, but I need to look around myself. There might be a clue of some kind, as to what’s really happened.’ I pause, frowning. ‘Could Matt have found out that they used to know each other?’
‘Even if he had, it still doesn’t make sense.’ She changes the subject. ‘Oh, look …’
Hearing a roaring sound, I follow her gaze to the low-flying jet above us, that’s just taken off from Gatwick. What I wouldn’t give to be on that right now, with my mother, headed away from all this madness somewhere far away, towards the sun.
It’s a relief when we finally turn off the busy motorway and take the country roads that thread along the foot of the Downs, through Fulking. Gazing out of the passenger window, I take in the peaceful rolling hills, the fields of sheep, suddenly homesick for the views from my own home.
‘You know, I’d better let Zoe know what we’re doing. She’s probably wondering where we are.’ Pulling over, obviously through to Zoe’s voicemail, she leaves a message. ‘Hi, just in case you’re wondering, we’re calling by Amy’s house. Jess wants to fetch a few things. Let me know if you want us to pick anything up on our way home?’
Then we’re almost there, driving up another section
of the Downs, before we turn into the lane. Slowing down, Cath parks outside our house, then sits there for a moment. ‘I don’t mind waiting out here – unless there’s anything you’d like me to do?’
I look at her. ‘I don’t really know what I’m looking for – but if we both look, maybe we’ve a better chance of finding something.’
As I get out of her car, I fish in my pocket for my keys, my resolve strengthening, knowing for my mother’s sake, we have to find something. Unlocking the door, when I push it open, a cold, alien feeling overcomes me. It feels like forever since I was last here. Picking up the post lying on the doormat, I push the door further open and go inside, Cath following me towards the kitchen. It’s untidy, the floor needs sweeping, with plates and mugs left all over the place. Glancing through the post, apart from one letter addressed to Matt, most of it’s for my mother. Leaving the letters on the table, I make a mental note to pick them up later.
Torn between clearing up and searching the house, I turn to Cath. ‘Is there any chance you could help me tidy – just a bit? Even if we put the dishwasher on, it would be a start.’
But as I start clearing the table, Cath turns around. ‘Leave the kitchen to me, Jess. Why don’t you look upstairs?’
While she makes a start, I walk out of the kitchen, glancing into the living room where the vile painting of Matt’s is still in place on the wall. Silently I make my way upstairs, but halfway up, I’m struck inexplicably with unease. At the top, I head for my mother’s room, taking in the clothes and shoes strewn across the bed and carpet, all of it Matt’s stuff. Maybe she was about to get rid of it or perhaps the police have gone through everything? Anger rises in me. Suddenly I want every trace of him out of here. When I hurry downstairs, Cath looks up in surprise.
My voice is tight. ‘I need some plastic bags. I’m getting rid of Matt’s clothes.’
*
Knowing the police will have gone through Matt’s pockets, as my mother will have before them, even so, I check again, then roughly fold each item, filling the first bag, then another, until the bed is clear, then the floor. Then I go to the wardrobe. As I open the door, something falls out, startling me so that I cry out, as I realise how on edge I am. Picking up the coat that must have fallen off its hanger, all that’s left is a holdall that’s on a shelf. Pulling it out and finding it empty, I shove it into another bag, trying to think. If anything was hidden in this house, where would it be?
The Vow: the gripping new thriller from a bestselling author - guaranteed to keep you up all night! Page 24