Page 146 of Worse Than Murder
And again.
Idon’t remember much after that.
I remember being on the floor of Lynne’s kitchen, crying my eyes out, really bawling my head off. The knife is in my bloodied hands. Alison is holding me in her arms. She’s telling me it’s all over.
‘I’m sorry,’ I’m screaming. ‘I’m so sorry.’
I repeat the same words over and over again.
‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.’
‘We need to get her to a hospital,’ someone says.
‘The ambulance is on its way.’
‘What will happen to her?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘I can’t get her to stop crying, Gill.’
‘Just keep hold of her. The ambulance will be here soon. They might have to sedate her. She’s in shock.’
‘Matilda, it’s Alison. I’ve got you. You’re all right. You’re safe. Everything’s all right.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’
I can feel Alison’s arms around me.
I can feel Adele’s arms around me.
I can feel my mum’s arms around me.
Icall round to Alison’s cottage for the first time since that shocking night. It seems like an age has passed when I ring the bell. At the same time, it feels like it was only yesterday.
I’m in a great deal of pain, still. My ribs are bruised, and I have a broken wrist. My black eyes have faded, but my hands look like I’ve been sparring with a heavyweight boxer. And lost.
Alison opens the door. She smiles and beckons me to enter. Lynne has moved out of the farmhouse. It’s up for sale– house, land, paddocks, the lot. She’s moved in with her daughter, but it’s only temporary as Alison has put her house on the market, too. A fresh start is required for these two amazing women as they try to rebuild their lives and discover who they both really are.
Lynne isn’t here. She’s struggling to come to terms with everything that has happened, the fact she wasn’t living, merely existing, for thirty years in a coercive relationship. The man she thought she loved, the man who had saved her, had been lying, manipulating and manufacturing her entire life. She’s struggling for answers and each answer leads to more questions. Today, she’s in Kendal seeing her therapist. It’s a long road to recovery, but she has determination. She’ll get there in the end.
‘Thank you for the flowers,’ Alison says as she brings me a mug of tea.
‘You’re welcome.’
Yesterday had been Celia and Jennifer’s funeral. As much as the whole village had wanted to turn out to say goodbye, Lynne and Alison wanted it to be private. As the twins were buried, at the graveside stood the surviving mother and daughter alongside Tania Pritchard, Lionel Bell and Claire Daniels, fully recovered and holding onto her stomach firmly. She still wasn’t showing much, but she wanted to protect her unborn child more than anything.
‘Tania told me it was a beautiful service.’
‘It was. The sun shone. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky or a hint of breeze. It was perfect.’
‘How’s Lynne doing?’
‘She’s getting there. Yesterday really helped. I’m worried the court case is going to draw it all out.’
Lynne is facing a charge of arson and endangering life. Her defence is coercive control and while she is on police bail rather than on remand, the thought of a lengthy court case and a jury deciding her fate isn’t one she, or Alison, are coping particularly well with.
‘And how are you?’
