Page 38 of Cuckoo

And then Lilah’s phone vibrates and I look down to see a message from Noah.

Why the fuck did you let her into the house, Lilah?! I’m on my way home now.

And that’s when I hear the police sirens.

Chapter Thirty-Six

3 February 2025

Dear Diary,

I’M ENGAGED!

I AM MARRYING NOAH COORS!

I AM GOING TO BE MRS COORS!

I cannot believe it. I can’t stop shaking and crying, this is the happiest day of my life. Noah proposed. Even in writing it looks bizarre, as though it’s somebody else’s news and not mine. He totally took me by surprise– I truly didn’t think he’d be ready for this any time soon. After all, we’ve not been together long in the grand scheme of things. But I got home from work and he had a romantic song playing, one of those old Etta James ones, and he had lit candles everywhere. Candles on literally every surface, it was a huge fire hazard but so stunning. Streaming from the ceiling were dozens and dozens of white paper birds– a flight of doves hanging at different levels, drifting above us with their wings carefully folded to replicate birds in flight. He’d made a romantic dinner too, and I walked through the door stunned by the sight of the origami doves andcandles and freaking out about what the hell was going on. I think my heart stopped beating in my chest in apprehension.

And then he got down on one knee and proposed. And it was with the ring we had seen together, the ring from the Christmas market, with birds engraved onto the band. I couldn’t believe it, could barely even take in what was happening when he spoke.

‘Claire, I know it’s early days but when you know, you know. I don’t want to wait. I want to be your husband and build a life with you. You’re the love of my life. Will you marry me?’

Of course, I started sobbing hysterically and screaming ‘yes’ right away, before he could change his mind or take it back. I could barely even eat because I was so excited, but he had gone to such an effort and made a lovely spread– a charcuterie board with the wine I had recommended to him when we met and some cheese we fell in love with in Venice and grapes and meats and fancy crusty rolls from that pricey Borough Market stall I love so much.

He told me he wanted to love me forever, that he’d gone back to the market and picked up the ring and had been saving it while he worked out the proposal scene. I was overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. I didn’t need a big flashy diamond, and he knew it. He knew what I’d want would be something thoughtful, something lovingly picked out just for me, that rested on a beautiful joint memory.

A part of me felt sad I didn’t have anyone to call to share the exciting news with– but that feeling was fleeting. I don’t need anybody else, not now that I have Noah. I’m so happy… So happy that a tiny part of me worries it’s too good to betrue, if it will all come crashing down soon. But that’s just me being a natural pessimist. I deserve this happiness. I deserve Noah.

Claire

PART TWO

8 Months Later

Chapter Thirty-Seven

15 May 2026

Dear Sukhi,

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to reply to your last letter– thank you for sending it. Hearing from you is one of the few things I look forward to, and news about life on the outside helps to keep me grounded. I’m sorry I reply so scarcely– sometimes I am just so ashamed of the situation you’re in, having to write to someone in prison, that I can’t bring myself to make the trip to the postal box. But I appreciate your letters and keep every one of them, even when I don’t reply. How is everyone at the office? Is my media coverage still terrible? I’m almost afraid for when I come out, of what I’ll find waiting for me. The things they’ll be saying about me… I doubt I’d have managed to stay off social media this long if it weren’t for… well, being in prison!

I have a new cellmate. My last one was released on Monday, the new one is called Ella. She’s maybe a bit older than me. I was wary of her at first, she asked me what the fuck I was looking at on day one, but we’ve found ourselves an easier rhythm now. I have no interest in making my time here even more miserable by not getting on with my cellmate. It’s awkward enoughhaving to go to the toilet in front of a stranger without having someone giving you evil eyes while you go. She’s in for battery on a night out. I asked her why she’s being kept on remand and she just said ‘previous charges’. I didn’t ask about those– I’m not sure I want to know. We mostly keep to ourselves, but it’s nice to have the company. For the few days between my old cellmate leaving and Ella arriving I was left with nothing but my thoughts. They’ve been spiralling again.

I have a headache almost constantly and would die for an Ibuprofen. Unfortunately, the prison isn’t very keen to hand out pills to prisoners, so I’m having to massage my temples all the time to try and keep it at bay. Anyway, please do keep writing to me. The closer we get to the trial date, the more nervous I am. I don’t know if I’m more scared of being found guilty of murder and rotting away in here forever, or of being released and having to face reality after all that’s happened. It feels like there’s no winning situation for me.

Claire

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Grosvenor, my legal-aid barrister, flicks a speck of lint from my blazer, her caramel-coloured eyes narrowing critically as she sweeps them over me. She frowns pensively. I’ve dressed as smartly as I can, in a discreet knee-length black dress, paired with the flat shoes she told me to wear so that I would look meek and small. I’ve pulled my hair into an unassuming low ponytail. Grosvenor is wearing a dress similar to mine but which I can tell is more expensive by the tailoring. It’s fashionable, which doesn’t surprise me. She must only be in her mid-to-late thirties. She has topped it with a blazer, mid-height block heels, and her trademark sleek straight hair. It falls to her shoulders like a protective sheet. Her makeup is very pared back, with a nude lip against her ghostly white skin, and she looks ready for business.

‘Right, today’s not going to be easy, okay?’ she tells me sternly, gripping both my shoulders. I nod back at her. I’m emotionally spent, utterly exhausted, yet my body feels coiled with tension. Now my fate is squarely in the hands of other people, ones I can’t control or persuade.

Everyone can be persuaded to do what we want eventually, darling,Mother would say, waggling her eyebrows knowingly. But I’m Claire, and I have never had the sway over others that she had.

‘They’re going to come for you, hard. But we know what they’re gonna say,’ Grosvenor tells me.

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