Page 179 of Wife After Wife
“Harry, I need to ask this,” Clare said finally.
Harry’s smile faded. His cheerfulness had been forced; the near-death experience had left him deeply disturbed.
“Merry claims you had something to do with Ana’s death. It’s not true, is it?”
“No.” He sighed. He’d never be free of the ghosts if he didn’t confront his conscience. “But I think... maybe I could have stopped it. And yes, I did have an affair with Merry, and yes, I did treat her terribly.”
Clare was quiet for a moment, not meeting his eyes. “She’s been arrested.”
“Clare, I don’t know how to move forward with this. Every time I try, things come back to haunt me.”
He leaned back on the pillows and closed his eyes. At least he’d said it out loud.Maybe I could have stopped it. He felt the load lighten a little.
“Look, Dad. Terry’s Chocolate Orange!” came Eddie’s voice.
“Fuck, Harry,” said another voice. “What have you done now?”
Harry opened his eyes to see Terri. “I just had a major relapse,” he said. “Get back to work, Baskin. And, Eddie, you’d better give the chocolate orange back, if it’s Terri’s.”
After a little while the others were ushered out of the room again. Terri wanted a word.
“Look, Harry. I know what there is to know. Clare says you’re battling your conscience. I think I can help with that, but it’s gonna hurt.”
“Help? How? And don’t say therapy.”
“Let me write about you. Let’s get it out there. It won’t be pretty, but the truth won’t land you in prison. And, Harry... while we’re on the subject of confessions, I have one of my own. Well, not a confession as such. Just something to share.”
For the first time in all these years, Terri looked vulnerable.
“I was in love with Ana. Probably as much as you were.”
Harry tried to haul himself up, but the pain sent him back to his pillows. “In love?You mean... you’re gay?”
“Oh, come on, Harry. How many years have we known each other?”
“I just thought you were immune to my charms.”
“Fuck’s sake. So when Percy North told me he thought you’d had Ana bumped off—”
“What!”
“Percy. He was tipped off by that tosser Cranwell. He told me about the Caitlyn blackmail thing too. In other words, Harry, you’re busted.”
“Cranwell’s a liar, and he knows nothing about Ana’s death. In any case, I can’t let you print any of that.”
“My opinion? Your dick’s got you into shitloads of trouble. You’ve done bad things, but you’re not a terrible person. If you don’t face up to what you’ve done, you’ll never clear your conscience—or have Eliza’s trust. She knows, Harry.”
“Sheknows?”
“Yep—that you’re at least partly responsible for Ana’s death. I told her about Sokolov. Look, I don’t believe you were behind it. I’ve thought long and hard, and I think he organized it over your head, which you were stupidly keeping buried in the sand. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Harry said nothing.Eliza knows.Finally, he nodded.
“Sokolov’s not going to sing,” she said, “and there’s no other way to connect you with her death. So let me do the story. Clear your conscience. Then you can start over.”
•••
Fate intervened. On Monday morning, the news broke. The press had been talking to Darius Draper, estate manager at Kindrummon Castle.
