Page 57 of The Vow
I wait with bated breath for him to tell me that they’ve found nothing, which means I’m free to leave here, but what he says next mystifies me.
‘Despite your conviction that there was nothing to find, we did find something. A hardback book.’
Until now, I haven’t noticed there’s another bag on the end of the table. As he opens it, then slides out my notebook, I’m confused. ‘That doesn’t make sense. It’s only a collection of garden ideas – a kind of scrapbook. Why would someone have buried it?’
He frowns. ‘Oh, it’s some scrapbook alright. We’ve had a close look – there’s more than at first meets the eye. What was it? Did you cast one of your spells as you buried your secrets, hoping no-one would ever find them?’
A chill runs through me. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Where to start …’ Pausing, the DI opens it, then turns the first couple of pages. ‘The first item of note here is a list of plants – or perhaps I should say herbs – and their effects on the human brain, ranging from nervousness and tremors, to suppression of the nervous system, then to respiratory and cardiac arrest. Quite a comprehensive list it is, too. It mentions hemlock, digitalis, deadly nightshade …’
Nausea rises in me. ‘Someone’s added it. I’m a herbalist. I abide by a healer’s code. I’ve only ever used remedies for good.’ I look at him, willing him to believe me, knowing how futile it is to convince him he’s wrong when he’s so sure he isn’t. ‘Where was this list?’
‘Hidden behind a magazine cutting you’ve glued in – about rose gardens.’
Remembering the cutting, I frown. But my stomach is turningover. I glance at PC Page, then back at the DI. ‘The magazine cutting is mine, but I honestly didn’t put anything else there. You have to believe me. I don’t know who or why, but someone else has done this. Not me,’ I repeat, taking a shaky breath. ‘I want a new lawyer.’ I glance sideways at Andrew Nelson. ‘Someone who can actually help me.’
DI Lacey glances at PC Page. ‘It’s a bit late for that.’
Starting to panic, I raise my voice. ‘I have the right. I just need you to arrange it.’
‘That’s slightly ridiculous in the circumstances.’ The DI’s voice is dry. ‘For now, I’d like to get back to your book. There’s another cutting we found.’ He picks up a torn-out newspaper article that’s vaguely familiar. ‘It relates to the case of the teenage girl who was murdered at your house before you bought it. Her name was Kimberley Preston. But we’ve been doing our own research. It was her grandmother you bought your house from. Only you didn’t buy your house, did you, Ms Reid? She was your grandmother, too. She left you the house on the understanding that you would live there for the rest of your life. We have the records of ownership and we’ve contacted the solicitors who handled the transfer of the deeds. We know about the letter your grandmother left detailing exactly what happened to Kimberley Preston. It clearly states that if you didn’t fulfil her request, it would find its way to the police. You weren’t prepared to put it to the test, were you? Amy isn’t the name you were born with, is it Ms Reid? It was Emily.’
I stare at the table, blood rushing in my ears, unable to speak, as all the memories I’ve blocked out flood back. The long summer days in my grandmother’s garden, of friendship, heat, freedom. The day my sister died, her death causing ripples into so many lives. The stupid pact with Allie that meant we’d kept our silence.Suddenly I think of her phone call, how I blocked her number. It had been just before I was arrested. After all the years we haven’t seen each other, is it possible Allie is behind this?
‘Why have you lied, Ms Reid? What are you hiding?’ The pause is ominous. ‘We’ve found your friend. Allie Macklin.’ There’s another pause, in which my brain seems to become paralysed. ‘These days, known as Fiona Rose. I find it very hard to believe that when your pasts are so entwined, you honestly didn’t know about her and Mr Roche.’
‘What?’I stare at him, utterly shocked.
The DI leans forward. When he speaks, his voice is disbelieving. ‘Surely you must have known that it was Ms Rose that Mr Roche was planning to leave you for?’
As he speaks, it’s as though I have no breath in my lungs. ‘I didn’t know.’ I stare at him, my heart racing. Imagining them together, an image fills my mind, expanding until I can’t think of anything else. ‘It can’t be her.’ It’s too far-fetched to believe it washerhe was having an affair with – of all people. She must have known, all along.
The DI looks disbelieving. ‘Surely you’re not expecting us to believe that you didn’t know about Ms Rose or where she lived? She’s a lawyer, by the way – with a firm in Brighton. She was on her way home from work when she saw you.’
Dazed, I’m still reeling. So Allie – or Fiona – was the witness. As it sinks in she’s now a lawyer, I realise she’s given herself the credibility she always said she would. ‘You said the anonymous letter was addressed to her?’ Frantic, I seize the last chance to make them see reason. ‘It makes even more sense now. She would have known where we lived, wouldn’t she? Even as a teenager, she was selfish and reckless. Don’t you see how easy it would have been, for her to kill Matt and frame me?’ I’m pleading with them, desperate for them to see what to me isobvious. But they don’t know what Allie is like. How furious she was with me. How she’d say anything to anyone, just to get to me.
The DI doesn’t respond. ‘There’s one thing I don’t understand. It’s why you’ve lied about your house.’
Still stunned by the revelation that it was Allie Matt had been seeing, I shake my head. ‘But you didn’t ask about my house.’
‘You lied by omission, Ms Reid. You let us assume facts which weren’t correct. And the house is only part of it, as you know. Can we continue talking about the day your sister died? Ms Rose has already told us her version of events. We know something happened there, that until now, the two of you have kept secret. What was it?’
This is the moment I’ve dreaded. The moment I thought would never come, knowing that after the lies I’ve told, when I tell them the truth, they won’t believe me. ‘Kimberley drank a herbal remedy. Only it wasn’t one of my gran’s. Allie – Fiona – and I made it.’ As I pause, silence falls. ‘She was jealous of Kimberley. She had a crush on Kimberley’s boyfriend, Charlie. She wanted him for herself, it was as simple as that. When Allie got something into her head, she could be ruthless. One night, when she saw them together, something snapped inside her. The next day, she persuaded me that we could prepare a potion to make Kimberley fall out of love with Charlie.’
‘You went along with it?’ The DI sounds disbelieving.
I nod. ‘It was honestly intended to be innocuous. Kimberley was my sister. I would never have wished her any harm. Allie and I climbed into the walled corner of the garden where my gran worked. There was a door which she always kept locked, but part of the wall was crumbling – it had completely collapsed by the time I moved there. We found her notebook.’ In thesmall room, my voice seems to echo. ‘It listed what each plant symbolised. I don’t remember exactly what we used, but it was probably something like cyclamen, which means goodbye. Yellow rose for infidelity – Allie thought if Kimberley was unfaithful to him, Charlie would break up with her. Five-leaf clover for bad luck. Then …’ Remembering, I shake my head. ‘Allie added something from a bottle she found. I didn’t see her do it. I found out later, it was labelled darkness. She didn’t tell me until after Kimberley had drunk it – we’d poured the potion into her orange juice. We were always making potions – harmless ones, from lemon balm and mint or other such plants. Kimberley had no reason to believe this was any different. She went outside.’ I break off, struggling with my emotions. ‘That was when Allie told me what she’d done. I rushed after her. Kimberley was in front of the house. Her boyfriend had just turned up. She was already unsteady on her feet. Then she seemed to lose her balance …’ There’s anguish in my voice, the memory as clear as if it happened yesterday. ‘It was bad luck a delivery van was driving past. She was clearly disorientated. Somehow she lurched in front of the van. He hit her.’
The DI’s frown deepens. ‘You’re saying Ms Macklin did this? Without your knowledge?’
I nod. ‘I could never have done anything like that. I never wanted to hurt my sister. And I knew my gran’s philosophy, about the power of intention.’ I stare at him, imploring him to believe me. It’s like reliving a nightmare as I remember Allie’s recklessness, her obsessive jealousy. Her determination that she was going to have Charlie, no matter what it took.
‘Did you tell anyone what Allie had done?’
‘No. After the ambulance arrived, Allie and I hid. She told me it was my fault too and we were in it together. Then she said we had to make a vow, to protect ourselves. We cut ourfingers and held them together, so that our blood blended. It meant we had to keep our secret. From there on, we were blood sisters.’
‘And all this time, no-one knew?’ PC Page sounds incredulous.
