Page 78 of Good Bad Girl

It’s true. We do.

All charges against me were dropped. Jude Kennedy went to prison for conspiracy to murder. With Edith’s third of the gallery along with her own, Clio became the majority shareholder. In her brother’s long-term—probably permanent—absence, she decided to turn it into a bookshop. She asked mum to run it and, so far, business at Black Sheep Books is booming. The walls are lined with beautiful turquoise bookcases and the tables are piled high with books. The steps on the wooden spiral staircase leading up to the mezzanine are decorated in quirky book wallpaper, and there are fairy lights draped around the banisters. There is a free coffee machine in the corner, the floor is covered in rugs, and the beanbags and cozy armchairs are always filled with visiting book lovers.

I kept the rest of what Edith left behind and Clio did not contest the will. Then I split it three ways among Clio, Mum, and me. I like to think that is what Edith would have wanted if she’d known how things would turn out. The end of her story was the beginning of ours. Clio sold her pink town house in Notting Hill and bought a similar—but significantly cheaper—house in the countryside. She did not sell any of her trainers.

I give Clio a papercut Mother’s Day card and she gets a bit teary: it’s the first one she has ever received despite having two grown-up daughters. I see Mum flinch but she doesn’t say anything. There is often a gap between what we think and what wesay: it’s where what we feel lives. We sit down at the table outside, even Dickens has his own chair and a bowl filled with gravy bones. Then Clio opens the champagne and I’m glad, I think we might need a little something to help us relax.

“I’d like to make a toast,” I say, when the glasses have been poured. “Here’s to the women in my life. I’m very grateful for you both, happy Mother’s Day.”

“And congratulations on getting into art school, Nellie!” says Clio, smiling at me.

I use the name Mum gave me again now. I’m happy to be myself and I like who that is.

“Thank you. I’m excited but terrified at the same time.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Mum says, taking a sip of champagne. “What if I told you that I had already seen the future, and that your life was going to be happy, healthy, and successful? Then there really would be no need to be anxious, would there? Being nervous about something you already knew was going to be wonderful would make no sense at all.” A ladybug lands on the table and we stare at it. I know we’re all thinking of Edith now.

“The police never did solve the mystery of who really killed the care home manager, did they?” Mum says. Clio and I share a quick glance but don’t say a word. I’ve never told Mum what really happened that day. Mother knows best but sometimes it’s best Mother doesn’t know.

I look around at my strange but happy little family of three and smile. Some family trees need to be cut down. Some just need a few branches removed in order to grow. I like to think that we are good people who did something bad, something anyone might have done if they found themselves in a similar situation. I often find myself thinking about DCI Charlotte Chapman, wondering if she felt the same way. She was so determined to find the truth in the beginning, but she let me go, dismissed Edith’s confession, and Mum and Clionever heard from her again. Despite all the detective’s talk of three suspects, two murders, and one victim, she let us all walk away. Maybe some mysteries are not meant to be solved. I think Edith was right. Sometimes bad things happen to good people, so good people have to do bad things.

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