It was possible, but only if he could get his weight under it. His gaze went back to Laura. ‘Is she breathing?’ he asked her, cold foreboding twisting his stomach as he considered what she might do next.
‘Unfortunately, yes,’ she answered with an elongated sigh.
He felt his heart clunk back into its mooring as he saw Sherry stir, attempting to raise her head.
‘Shush, shush, Sherry.’ Laura pushed her back down. ‘You’re in my care now. We really should get you out of this dressing gown, though. White doesn’t flatter your p-p-pale skin tone, darling. You could be mistaken for a corpse.’
Craning his neck, Joe watched in morbid fascination as she reached into a make-up bag on the floor beside her and withdrew a lipstick. She removed the cap to test it against the back of her hand, and then applied it to her mother’s lips. Her movements were calm, methodical and unhurried. Trepidation prickled the length of his spine. If she hadn’t been out of her mind before, she seemed to be now. Driven there, probably, by the events in her life; thereafter by the woman who was supposed to care for her and who actually appeared not to care at all.
He took a breath. She wouldn’t do it, but it was worth a try. ‘Do you think you could undo the handcuffs, Laura?’ he asked her. ‘I can’t feel my—’
‘She ran Steve over.’ Laura glanced at him over her shoulder. ‘She hurt you too. She could have killed both of you. You shouldn’t waste any sympathy on her, Joe.’
‘I’m not,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s you I’m concerned about. You could end up in prison. If you let me go now, I can help you.’ Sweat trickling down his spine, he tried to keep her talking, attempting to get at least one shoulder under the tabletop as he did.
‘But you’re a policeman. You’ll feel obliged to help her.’ She turned her attention back to her mother. ‘There,’ she said, tipping her head to one side as she surveyed her handiwork. ‘You look younger now. You never know, Grant might even stay with you because he wants to; your p-p-perfect man, the man you ruined my life for, loved more than me.’
Sherry moved, attempting again to lift her head. ‘That’s not true, Laura,’ she rasped. ‘I’ve never—’
‘Whose love you valued above my life.’ Clutching her mother’s shoulders, Laura pushed her down. ‘Your grandchild’s life! You callous bitch!’
Her grandchild? Joe squinted at her, confused. There were no other siblings as far as he was aware. Sherry and Grant had had two children: Laura and Jacob. Unless … Was she talking about Jacob?
‘She stole him from me,’ Laura went on unsteadily. ‘Convinced me that he would have a better future with her and Grant as his parents, that Grant would marry her if he thought she was pregnant. It would secure his future, she said. He would be financially secure for life. We all would – meaning she fucking well would.’
‘Laura, stop this!’ Sherry struggled yet again to raise herself.
‘Lie still, Mother!’ Laura growled, shoving her down hard. ‘Stay very, very still. You’re not going anywhere until you tell Joe here what you did. Because, you see, if you don’t, I won’t hesitate to bury you alive, do you understand?’
‘Laura, please stop this,’ Sherry begged, her voice tremulous and terrified. ‘You’re upset, darling, confused. You know how muddled you sometimes get when you’re stress—’
‘That’s what she did, you know? She took him away. Buried him in some dark, lonely place all on his own.’ Laura glanced at Joe and then back to her mother. ‘You told Grant he was dead when you fished him out of the pool, didn’t you?’
‘Laura, you’re being ridiculous, darling. Please don’t say any—’
‘My baby!’ Laura glared down at her. ‘My p-p-precious Jacob. You told Grant he was dead, but you didn’t make sure, did you? You didn’t fucking well make sure!’
‘Laura, stop!’ her mother cried. ‘You don’t know what you’re—’
‘He wasn’t!’ Laura screeched. ‘He wasn’t dead! I know he wasn’t. He was floundering, trying to swim, but he couldn’t! And you didn’t even try to save him!’
Jesus Christ. Joe’s throat was suddenly dry.
‘She buried him anyway.’ Her tone was flat, cold, unforgiving. ‘Do you know why? To have something to hold against that bastard she got to marry her. As if his fucking well abusing me wasn’t enough.’
‘She’s lying,’ Sherry cried. ‘She’s doing it out of spite. Some sort of vengeance for how she imagines I’ve blighted her