My heart stutters.Other things?What other things?
‘Shall I call your husband and –’
‘No need to bother him. I’ll come now.’
In that moment, I know my time has run out. It’s time for all the lies to stop. The police have left me no choice in the matter. I redirect the cab.
When I get to the police station, the first thing I do is to text Dev.
Police need to speak to me again. I’ve come straight to station. Be home asap to talk.
I’m shown into a small dim interview room with no window. The plastic beaker filled with lukewarm water wobbles as I lift it to my lips. The young officer who brought me in here, clearly just out of police training college, gives me a rehearsed smile. New to the job, wanting to do things the right way.
It reminds me of when I trained to be a healthcare assistant. Monitoring blood pressure and carrying out blood tests might seem like a minor role, but it was a job that directly impacted people’s health in a positive way. Made me feel I was doing something worthwhile.
Paige stillisa healthcare assistant. I picture her at work, arms folded as she waits for the kettle to boil in the staff room.The longing for her friendship again, despite everything she’s told me, steadies me briefly, then twists into an ache.
I need to focus, to get through this somehow. I have to convince the police I had nothing to do with Sarah’s death. The only way I can do that is to tell them who I think is responsible … a ghost from the past I’m desperate not to believe in.
The door opens, and the same two detectives who questioned me before come in. DS Lott and DC Parsons.
‘Hello, Ms Harris,’ Parsons says, introducing herself and her colleague again.
‘Call me Merri.’ My voice doesn’t wobble, but I can feel Parsons watching me, waiting for me to show any sign of weakness.
Parsons reaches for the recorder, clicking it on. ‘For the benefit of the tape, we’re now speaking to Merri Harris regarding the ongoing investigation into the death of Sarah Fielder.’
‘As DS Lott informed you, some new information has come to light after our appeal,’ Parsons continues. ‘A local couple have come forward. While walking their dog, they reported seeing you with the deceased last night. Specifically, they saw you running after her in what they described as a threatening manner.’
Threatening manner?I shake my head. ‘I wasn’t threatening her. I was shouting because the storm had started. Sarah wouldn’t have heard me otherwise.’
‘So you weren’t displaying an aggressive manner?’
‘No. Unless it’s now an offence to run after a friend who’s upset,’ I add, but Parsons leans forward, her tone cold.
‘It wasn’t just running and shouting, though, was it, Merri? The witnesses claim you actually assaulted Miss Fielder.’
I stare at her. ‘That’s a downright lie.’
‘You didn’t strike her across the face, causing her to cry out?’ Lott says. ‘A long laceration on her left cheek was observed during the post-mortem.’
The room feels smaller, the walls seeming to press in.My ring. I felt the sickening tug as it snagged Sarah’s skin. Her shrill cry as her hand flew up to her face.
‘I –’ The words stick in my throat, and my face burns. ‘It was just an accident. She turned, and my ring cut her face.’ I hold up my hand so they can see it. ‘I never meant to hurt her.’
Parsons shifts in her seat. ‘It wasn’t just a cut, though, was it, Merri? How many times did you hit her?’
‘I caught her cheek by accident just the once! I didn’t hit her at all.’
‘The post-mortem results disagree. There is evidence that Sarah Fielder sustained bruising prior to her death and was most likely unconscious when she went into the water.’
‘A pattern of violence seems to follow you, Merri,’ Lott remarks. She consults the paperwork on the desk in front of her before looking up again. ‘It’s standard procedure to carry out a background check on everyone who might be involved in a case like this and we’ve done so here. You might be surprised to know how quickly we can uncover the truth, when we suspect someone’s lying. So tell us, Merri – or should I call you Janey? After all, that’s your real name, isn’t it? Your own sister, Beth, drowned at the age of twelve. Is that correct?’
The room shifts. For a second, I don’t know if I’m awake or back there, on the riverbank, watching my sister flail in the water. After so many years of burying the past, my name, everything I used to be, I can’t believe how easily they’ve found the truth. At least, some of it.
I feel the breath stick in my throat.
‘Is that correct?’ Lott presses.
