Ellie gasped. ‘We can’t say that!’
‘I realize there is the problem with the three glasses.’ Ellie looked blank. ‘On the tray,’ explained Abby. ‘The police will find broken shards from three glasses, not one.’
‘Oh God,’ said Ellie, her face in her hands.
‘Did she grab you in any way?’
‘No. What...you’re thinking self-defence?’
Abby deflated. ‘I was, but...’
‘What?’
‘Well, we ran. It doesn’t look great.’
‘But...’
‘I know, that was my idea. But I...I panicked. I wanted to get you away.’
‘But if we’d stayed...’
‘You’d still be going to prison.’
Ellie’s eyes widened in shock.
‘Yes, prison,’ repeated Abby. ‘There’s no beating around the bush here, it’s manslaughter.’
‘Oh jeez,’ said Ellie, her voice cracking.
‘Now come on. Don’t do that, don’t cry,’ said Abby urgently. ‘Stop it, people will see.’
Ellie got a tissue, blew her nose.
‘If anyone should have gone to prison, it’s her for what she did to you. Just you remember that.’
‘So what do we do?’ asked Ellie helplessly.
‘I don’t know,’ said Abby. Ellie started to crumple again. ‘I’ll think of something,’ Abby added quickly. ‘Let’s sleep on it. I’ll think of something.’
SEVENTEEN
Matteo was surprised to see no lights on in his house as he pulled up outside. Helping his friend fix his boat had taken a little longer than he’d thought and he had expected to find his wife and her family at home. They were meant to all be having dinner together – he’d brought back some fish that his friend had caught. It was then he noticed that Abby’s car wasn’t there. Perturbed, he checked his watch – it was getting late. They would have left the beach hours ago.
He let himself in and listened out but the house was silent. Throwing his keys in the dish on the hall table, he went to put the fish in the fridge. The motor hummed and whirred and he stood there for a moment, wondering where his wife could be. He moved through the house towards the living room, which was also dark. As he entered, he switched on the light.
Matteo yelled out in fright. Sitting on a chair was Susanna. But not the woman he’d seen that morning. Her face was burned red by the sun; her hair was dishevelled. Then he saw she had a tissue in her hands, blotted with blood.
She looked up at him, an expression of consternation on her face.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked, growing more disconcerted as he now noticed her hair was matted with dried blood. He walked over to her but she held up a hand to make him stop. Confused, he did so, and that was when he saw the terrace through the patio doors: it was strewn with broken glass and a patch was stained dark.
Matteo started. ‘What’s happened? Where’s Abby?’
‘Gone,’ said Susanna.
‘Gone where?’
‘You need to call the police.’
