Not Webb.
But Tilda.
The weight of the knowledge is crushing.
I think of the things she’d said that Simon had told me were lies, the way she watched me. The way we spoke about our marriages. Tilda had been asking questions about mypast, feeding her own paranoia, twisting everything until she convinced herself of some imagined betrayal between me and her husband.
And then she killed an innocent woman. But why? What did Sarah ever do to her?
I feel sick, remembering how she’d watched Sarah like a hawk at the drinks party. Had Sarah been her new obsession? Webb had been feeding her notes to make her suspicious about me – but it must have set her spiralling, making her suspicious of everyone around her.
‘Tilda is on remand in custody pending further investigation,’ Lott says. ‘As is Webb. They’ll face trial when we have all the evidence in place.’
It doesn’t feel like enough. Justice will come, but it won’t bring Sarah back. And it won’t erase the horror of what’s happened for those left behind, Jack and Monica’s son.
Lott and Parsons stand, and I follow them to the door, my legs wobbly.
‘We’ll be in touch with more news as we have it,’ Parsons says. ‘Look after yourself.’
I thank them and they leave.
I have to look after myself because Dev is still in hospital, and a very important conversation is waiting for us. I have to be OK because Beth deserves to be remembered without the shadow of my misplaced guilt. The past will never be erased, but I refuse to let it define my future any longer.
Tilda and Webb will pay for what they’ve done.
And Dev will, I pray, forgive me for lying to him since the day we met.
69
Five Days Later
The hotel room is warm and the golden glow of the lamps softens the edges of the evening. Outside, the lake is a dark, endless stretch, barely visible beyond the glass.
Dev sits across from me at the window, his elbows on the small round table, watching me with quiet patience. He’s still pale and there’s a haunted look in his eyes. But we’ve both waited so long for this. And we’ve been talking here for a while.
I’ve relayed Beth’s and my time at the Webbs’ house in detail, covering David’s grooming of me and the thing that brought it all to a conclusion: Becky’s revelation of how he’d moved on to her little sister.
But I know I’m delaying now, circling around the truth I’ve kept from him for so long.
‘It’s time, Merri,’ Dev says quietly, squeezing my hand. ‘Time to let that burden go. Tell me what happened the day Beth died.’
I press my damp palms into my lap, trying to steel myself, trying to find the courage.
The words are there. They’ve been there since Beth died, buried deep inside me. Dragging them up and out into the light feels impossible.
If I speak them now, everything shifts. Everything changes.
Breathe, I tell myself.Just breathe.
And then, finally, I begin.
I couldn’t get what Becky had told me about David and her sister out of my head. I knew something had to change, but I was scared and I didn’t know how we’d get away from the Webbs’ together. One thing I knew was that I had to get Beth out of Mrs Webb’s clutches and make her see the danger of staying in that house.
There was a place we used to walk sometimes, not far from the house. There were hills and a rocky bit close to the river that Beth loved climbing on. I knew no one would be around at that time of day, which was perfect. I needed privacy to get through to her properly, make her understand the danger she was in.
Beth was in her bedroom and barely looked up when I knocked and pushed open the door. The room was a haven of pastel pinks and lilacs, with fairy lights draped along the white wrought-iron bed. Neatly arranged pillows and stuffed animals were everywhere. Books and sketchpads were stacked on the pale wooden desk, with a cosy reading nook in the corner.
Beth had everything she needed here. It wasn’t going to be easy to make her see the truth.
