Page 78 of Forgive Me Not
The two women looked at each other, and a lump formed in Emma’s throat. Both knew how lucky they were to now be leading lives so ordinary.
Chapter 28
‘Andrea? Bligh?’ called Emma as she walked into the yard. No one was in the greenhouse. She scoured the animal pens and planted areas and looked in the shop. Stig came out of the barn, water on his face, a towel in his hands.
‘Your sister and I have just finished cleaning out the chicken coop. She and Bligh are inside doing a stocktake.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Everything okay?’
‘I just need a word with them.’ Emma squeezed his arm before pushing open the back door and entering the kitchen. She downed a glass of water, then headed into the lounge, glancing at the forget-me-not watercolour.
Voices came from upstairs. She clasped her hands together and headed up to the bedrooms. Except hers wasn’t for sleeping in any more. The door was wide open. Bligh and Andrea were counting jars of jam and pickles. Emma went in. Mum stood looking out of the window, fiddling with bubble wrap in her hands. The other two sat on the floor. It was strewn with paperwork.
Andrea looked up. ‘We’re in the middle of something.’
Emma sat down on a wooden chair. She looked around, her mind filling in the decor from her teenage years. The Rihanna poster… she used to drive her sister and Mum mad, every time it rained, by singing that ‘Umbrella’ number. Then there were the scented candles. The broad selection of DVDs.
‘I… Could we just… You see…’
‘What?’ said Andrea, and sighed.
‘It about something I did.’
Andrea’s brow furrowed and she sat up straight. ‘When? What’s all this about?’
Emma’s heartbeat pounded in her ears. ‘I just saw Polly and Alan in the churchyard. They—’
‘It’s Ned’s eighteenth today,’ said Andrea. ‘I know.’
‘He died on the day I left.’
‘It wasn’t the best Christmas for the village for lots of reason,’ said Bligh, and gave Emma a pointed look. He put down his calculator. ‘The cold snap turned to torrential rain that week and floods hit the day after Boxing Day. The shops at the base of Healdbury stream were devastated.’
‘It was icy that Christmas Eve,’ said Emma, quietly. ‘I had trouble steering straight.’
‘And that had nothing to do with you enjoying too much champagne?’ said Bligh, and shook his head. ‘We examined the car. We know you what you did.’
‘You do?’
No. That wasn’t possible. Surely they’d never have kept a secret like this?
‘One of the headlights was cracked.’ Andrea pursed her lips. ‘How exactly did you do it? No surprises, you didn’t stop.’ She shook her head in disgust.
‘I… But why haven’t you told the police?’ Emma’s heart pounded louder.
‘And spend our valuable time down at the station filling in forms over a scratched parked car they’d probably never find?’ Bligh picked up his calculator again. ‘Time was – still is – a luxury for us.’
Emma felt sick – with relief or disappointment, she wasn’t sure. ‘So you think I smashed into another car?’
‘What else?’ said Bligh. ‘A bollard, perhaps? Don’t tell us you crashed into a building.’
Andrea glanced at Gail, who was still distracted by the bubble wrap. She turned back to the stock. ‘Look, we haven’t got time for guessing games. Whatever it is, Emma, can’t it wait?’
‘No. I’m sorry, but I can’t put it off any more. I’ve been wanting to tell you for ages, and Polly and Alan, but—’
‘What have they got to do with it?’ asked Andrea.
‘It could… It might have been… You see… Oh God – I think I killed Ned.’
Silence hung in the air for a few moments.
