Page 24 of The Stranger in Room Six
‘Youownit?’ gasped Belinda.
‘I knew you didn’t believe me when I told you about the private beach. My aunt left me the whole estate when she died.’
Oh my God, thought Belinda.So I’ve just told the owner of Sunnyside that I’m a murderer and that I’m working here under false pretences.
If Mabel did let the cat out of the bag, Belinda would have to claim that the old woman was rambling. How could she have been so stupid?
Yet somehow, as time went by, the more they talked, the more each trusted the other, feeling as though a burden was being lifted. It had been so hard to carry the weight of loss and wrongdoing over the years. The wonderful thing about sharing, as Mabel pointed out, was that if one of them betrayed the other’s confidence, it would be easy to get revenge by doing the same. It guaranteed silence on both sides.
Each woman turned out to be a good listener, neither interrupting the flow but waiting until the other had finished, either through tiredness (usually on Mabel’s part) orbecause Belinda was needed elsewhere. Sometimes when that happened, Mabel would put her foot down and remind the interrupter that she owned Sunnyside, and that if she wanted Belinda with her all the time, that was her right.
Belinda might not know it, but she would never hear the whole story. Mabel was determined to keep that final secret until – and beyond – her last breath.
Part Two
The Stranger in Room Six
So, little old Mabel Marchmont … Who’d have thought it?
At five foot two inches, bright blue eyes, auburn hair and in possession of her full mental faculties despite being ninety-eight, she appears the picture of innocence. But now I’m onto her, she had better watch out.
My boss has got me looking for a special item that no one has seen for eighty years. ‘I never knew such a thing existed,’ I admitted when I was briefed. ‘The Second World War was so long ago. Does this stuff even matter any more?’
‘No questions,’ they told me. ‘Just do it. We know she has what we need, so get it out of her – whatever it takes.’
Well. How difficult can it be to make an old lady squeak?
16
Belinda
Mabel and I have been sharing stories for three days. But then she asks me the question I’ve been dreading most. The question that conjures up my very worst memories.
‘Tell me,’ Mabel asks, her eyes gleaming with curiosity, ‘what were your first days like in jail?’
That’s not difficult. I remember as if I was there yesterday.
Prison, I learn, is full of people who insist they shouldn’t be there, like the angry woman who’d been banging on the partition next to mine on the drive here.
‘I’m innocent!’ she protests, as we’re shoved into a communal cubicle and ordered to change into oversized coarse navy tracksuits. ‘They said I stole money from my company, but I didn’t! What are they accusingyouof?’
‘Manslaughter,’ I mumble.
The woman moves away. ‘You’re kidding me.’
‘I pushed my husband by accident,’ I add hastily. ‘He fell and died.’
A fearful look comes into her eyes, as if I might try to do the same to her.
‘I’m not sharing with her,’ my reluctant companion protests to the guard when we find ourselves being taken to the same small cell. ‘That woman’s a killer. She’ll hurt me.’
‘I won’t,’ I say swiftly. I want to add that I am normal. That until a few days ago, I’d been a wife who was makingthe most of a marriage that wasn’t satisfactory but not, with hindsight, totally unsatisfactory either.
Instead, I crawl into my bunk, put the scratchy grey blanket over my head, fold my arms and rock from side to side, black fears and terrors coursing through my mind. Nothing is ever going to be the same after what I’ve done. Never.
Gerald is dead. One of my daughters hates me.
I try to make sense of things as I lie there, blocking out women’s shouts from the cells around me. When did it all start to go so wrong for Gerald and me? When he started the affair, did he return from work as usual? How could he, after something as huge as that?
