He looked wounded. ‘You knew we could never last, we were both going to move on. You wanted to end it but how could we ever be together while…’
‘While what? My mum was alive… is that what you were going to say?’
‘NO! You’re twisting my words.’
‘I don’t believe you. Like I didn’t know you’d cheated on Mum before, and that I was one of many,’ she snapped. ‘Just leave me alone. Don’t speak to me, don’t come near me, in fact don’t even look at me. You make me want to puke.’
With that she turned and left him standing in the hallway, the space between them as final as a locked door. As she took the stairs at speed, with each one the seed of hatred inside her bloomed. The man she had once adored was gone. What stood in his place was a fraud. And now, she wanted nothing more than to bring him down. Whatever it took.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Magda had never liked silence. When she arrived at the Lassiter home that morning, key in hand and rucksack laden with groceries, sighing when she saw a fresh bouquet on the porch, she paused on the step and exhaled. The house loomed before her, still and before she even stepped inside she sensed the overbearing presence of mourning.
She turned and stood for a moment, taking it all in. They’d been leaving the double gates open during the day because it was easier than answering the intercom when a florist or neighbour dropped off flowers and in some cases, food, which Magda took as a personal insult. Did they not knowshewas the one responsible for feeding the family and didn’t need help in that department? Erik had chastised her gently when she’d grumbled about it and she knew he was right, but this was her domain, and the family her responsibility.
Talking of responsibility, the garden needed attention. Weeds had begun to stake their claim between the paving slabs. The box hedges were untrimmed. It felt like no one had breathed life into the place since Julia’s passing. She would give thegardener a call and tell him it was okay to come round. He was probably being respectful but Julia took pride in her home and Magda would not let it go to rack and ruin.
She let herself in and quietly shut the door behind her. The once vibrant home felt subdued. Even the soft creak of her shoes on the marble sounded like an intrusion into their grief.
Without removing her denim jacket, she moved towards the kitchen and placed the flowers on the counter. These weren’t lilies, thank goodness. Instead some kind soul had chosen a bright and colourful arrangement that would bring a smile to anyone’s face, even in such dreadful circumstances. A small gesture. A whisper of beauty. The roses were partially opened, their rich scent already filling the air that was stale from whatever the family had eaten the night before.
Presuminghewas out – his car was missing from the driveway – and the girls were still in bed or hiding in their rooms, she set to work immediately and started by opening the bi-fold doors that led to the garden. She never had to ask what needed doing: it came to her like muscle memory. This had been her second home for so many years. She had been here through birthdays, tantrums, breakups, and funerals. And now, another loomed.
The fridge was full of half-eaten meals and expired milk. She took off her jacket and hung it in the utility room and after donning her overall, began to remove the containers one by one, wrinkling her nose and trying not to dwell on how long it had been since anyone had prepared a proper meal. She tossed out wilted greens and set the bin out to be emptied. Then she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.
Wiping surfaces was mechanical. It helped. The scent of pine cleaner mixed with that of the flowers. She replaced the sponge on the sink and laid out a fresh dish towel. These small actions, these rituals of care, grounded her. They brought order.
Moving from room to room like a breeze, she fluffed pillows, folded throws, straightened picture frames. In the lounge, she smoothed the blanket draped over Dee’s favourite armchair, where the child had once curled up with books bigger than her lap. Still, no one stirred.
Upstairs, the greatest challenge awaited as she hesitated outside the doorway to Julia’s suite. Nobody had been up there since the paramedics and forensic team had left – not to her knowledge anyway. Gathering strength from a gulp of air, she opened the door and climbed the stairs, trying not to think about the day she’d had to, no, wanted to scrub the blood that told a terrible story. She’d seen it as an honour, to be the one to put things back in order because Julia would’ve hated the mess, and for the girls to be distressed by it. Reaching the top she stood on the threshold and took in the room.
It was such a beautiful, luxurious space, Julia’s safe haven. Moving through the lounge area to the bedroom she saw the bed was untouched since she’d last made it up. In the bathroom the bath still held the water Julia must have run before… Pulling out the plug, she then straightened the row of L’Occitane bottles, Julia’s favourite brand containing body lotion, shower gel and shampoo. Magda’s heart sank knowing she’d never have to perform these tasks again for her dear friend and banished the next, not allowing in the thought thathemight move up here. That would be sacrilege.
She returned to the bedroom, each movement slow as she stripped the bed linens gently, folding the duvet as though Julia were merely away on a trip. The sheets smelled faintly of her perfume. Magda’s hands trembled as she bundled them into the laundry bag and headed downstairs.
It was as she passed the corridor that led to Molly’s room, the door firmly shut, that her mind began to wander to another time when she’d found things that bothered her to this day. Thesocks and bobble, and the pills. Not that she’d ever mentioned them, though. Being a good housekeeper meant being discreet and Magda prided herself on being exemplary in that area. Continuing down the stairs, her attention turned to lunch and making the family, well, the ones she liked, something fresh to eat, now she’d chucked all that donated rubbish away.
Mid-morning, Nancy appeared, fresh-faced from a walk with Dee, the teenager trailing behind her like a tired puppy. By the looks of her peaky complexion, the fresh air had done nothing to revitalise her. Her hair was unbrushed, tucked into the collar of her jacket. She walked with her hands in her pockets, shoulders hunched, and did not make eye contact.
Magda was wiping the hallway mirror when Nancy appeared beside her.
‘You didn’t have to come,’ Nancy said softly, enveloping her in a hug.
Magda shook her head. ‘I did. This house needs looking after. So do you and those girls and I like to keep busy, and your sister would want me to have it looking nice for you all.’
Nancy nodded, her eyes shining. She looked tired beneath the smile, less composed than usual. She placed a hand briefly on Magda’s shoulder. ‘Thank you. Really. And it’s so good to see you.’
They stood in silence for a moment. Then Nancy said, wiping away a tear, ‘Shall we have a cup of tea? I’ll stick the kettle on.’
In the kitchen, over two steaming mugs, they sat at the table. Magda had told Nancy about the visit from the two detectives. She’d seen them heading off as she came up the road.
‘I’ll ask Molly when she comes down. Let’s give her another hour in case she’s sleeping, then I’ll wake her for lunch.’ She took a sip of her tea, lost in thought for a second before saying, ‘I keep thinking Julia will walk in, and she’ll complain about the traffic in the village or tell us off for leaving our mugs in the sink.’
Magda smiled faintly. ‘She would. Julia liked everything just so.’
‘She was a perfectionist.’ Nancy smiled as she spoke.
Magda nodded, lips pressing together. ‘She was strong, too, and loyal and kind.’
