had been so young then – sixteen – younger than Amelia, her sister, Dudley’s bride. But evidently that hadn’t stopped him. She felt sick.
‘I saw Dudley when I was leaving that day Amelia fell,’ Anna said. ‘I was in such a horrible state I didn’t stop to speak to him and I don’t think he saw me. I don’t know what he was doing here but later, when he pretended that he’d been miles away and he didn’t know anything about it, I knew he was lying. I think he’d come to talk to Millie about the divorce and got the wind up when he realized she was dead.’
‘And what about Lizzie?’ Arthur’s voice was hard. He didn’t look at Lizzie but kept his full attention on Anna. ‘You hit her. You could have killed her too.’
‘I didn’t mean to,’ Anna said. ‘I thought she was going to pull one of her weird mind tricks and tell Johnny what had happened. I just wanted to stop her.’ Despite the words, the glance she shot Lizzie was laced with malice. ‘You kept causing me problems,’ she said to her. ‘I wanted to keep Johnny away from you but he liked you and so did Arthur.’ She shook her head. ‘You’re as bad as Dudley in your own way. I really wish I could have pinned the whole thing on the two of you. I tried, when I gave Johnny a lift to yours that night in Arthur’s car and he left his phone behind. I planted it in your flat. But it wasn’t enough.’
Lizzie looked at her. Anna met her eyes defiantly but behind the bluster and bravado, Lizzie could see another Anna Robsart, the one who had hidden her grief when her mother had died, whilst her hatred and resentment festered because she thought no one else cared enough, no one had done enough to save her. She saw the Anna who loved Johnny fiercely and had tried to comfort him, and the girl who had never meant to kill her sister but had lost her temper because, as Arthur had once said, she sometimes went way too far.
‘I truly didn’t mean it to happen,’ Anna said, and in that moment, she crumbled, and her voice shook, and Sam gave a muttered curse and got up to pull her into another clumsy hug.
Lizzie stood up as quietly as she could. She wanted to slip away, unwilling to spectate on this family tragedy anymore. It felt horrible and intrusive. She knew the police would want to question her but that could wait. She already knew she wouldn’t press charges against Anna. The whole hideous mess would hardly be helped if she did; as it was, Anna would have to live with what she had done for the rest of her life.
Arthur looked up and for a moment their eyes met but he said nothing, nothing at all, and Lizzie turned and walked away, out into the daylight that felt like another world.
Back at The High, Lizzie found both Jules and Avery waiting. She took one look at them and burst into tears.
‘I’ll run you a bath,’ Jules said. She couldn’t deal with tears; it was left to Avery to enfold Lizzie in her arms and soothe her like a child while she poured out the whole story.
‘Is it over now?’ Lizzie finally pulled away from Avery, pushed the hair back from her hot face and wiped her eyes. ‘It has to be over because otherwise how can it have been worth it?’
Avery, her face full of sorrow, stroked Lizzie’s hair just like her grandmother had done when she was a child. ‘I don’t know,’ she said regretfully. ‘I hope so.’
Later Arthur rang. The police had come, he said, and Anna had broken down completely. He and Johnny were bearing up as well as they could. They both wanted to see her, but in a little while, when Johnny was stronger.
‘Any time,’ Lizzie said. She could barely breathe, it felt as though there was so much she wanted to say. ‘Come any time.’
A fortnight went by. Lizzie went to the local art class. She was worse than even she had anticipated, utterly unable to draw anything recognisable though she had better success with abstract painting. No one seemed to care, though. They were just pleased she was there, which she found rather nice. She went to yoga, which wasn’t at all like the class at her London studio but was absolutely fine