anything you could do to keep him. Even if it did mean murdering your own child.’
‘I didn’t murder him.’ Susanna was trembling; she rubbed her shaking hands down her sides. This was unbearable, all this pain dragged up again. Everything she’d tried to bury for so long. She closed her eyes. Maybe it’s time to come clean.
‘You just can’t bear to be left. Can’t stand on your own two feet. Is that why you started on Ellie? You saw her getting a life away from you too? If I’d worked out what happened to Ben, I’d have had those girls taken away from you.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Susanna went to leave the room but her mother shouted after her.
‘I’m going to call the police! Tell them everything.’
Susanna buckled. Turned back to Kathleen. ‘OK, you do that. But first, know what really happened.’
It had the desired effect. Her mother shut up.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Matteo, in the silence that followed.
‘My mother is right,’ said Susanna, her voice cracking. ‘Ben had more salt than in just those ready meals. But it wasn’t me. It was Abby.’
‘You little—’ said Kathleen.
‘No, Mother. It’s true. I have never told anyone this, not in all these years.’ Susanna started to break down. ‘I didn’t see it. I couldn’t stop it, and then it was too late.’
‘Stop what?’ asked Matteo.
‘Abby added salt to Ben’s meals. Over those three days.’
‘She was two years old,’ scoffed Kathleen.
‘It is terrifyingly simple. A teaspoon is enough to kill a child of his age. She was excited at first, at the idea of a baby brother, but when he came along, took up my time, began to crawl, broke her toys, she soon had enough. She would scream at him, and hit him once when he destroyed her Lego.’
Susanna bristled at the sceptical look on her mother’s face. She needs to hear this, she thought. ‘Abby would ask me why I moved the salt cellar off the table when he was old enough to sit with us in his high chair. And I told her. I said it was because salt wasn’t very nice for babies.’ Suddenly Susanna deflated. ‘After he’d died I couldn’t work out how he’d had so much. For years I tormented myself, assuming I’d left the shaker within his reach one time and he’d eaten some. But when I saw Abby putting paracetamol in Ellie’s milk, it all fell into place. She had done it. I’d told her again and again that salt was bad.’ Susanna looked up. ‘But if you’re going to blame anyone, you might as well blame me anyway. I didn’t make her feel she could accept him. I failed her as well as him.’
Susanna glanced at her mother. A new emotion flitted across Kathleen’s face: uncertainty.
‘Call me a bad mother, go ahead. I deserve it. But I am the one who knows my children best. And I’m telling you now, Abby’s never changed. And if you don’t listen to me, then I am convinced Ellie will be harmed. Argue with me all you like but what if you’re wrong? How will you feel then? Because believe me, it’s hell having the death of a child on your conscience.’
FORTY-EIGHT
Around them were fields, miles and miles of green that reached far towards the horizon right to the base of the Pyrenees. The lower slopes of the mountains were covered with evergreens, tiny trees clinging like limpets. There were thousands of them, hiding trails and pathways of the national park. Ellie gazed out of the window, wondering if there were people hidden amongst them. Tourists who’d come to enjoy the great outdoors, ordinary people who had nothing more pressing to do each day than decide where to spend their free time, what pleasures to revel in. Maybe there were people there right now, mountain bikes kicking up soil and dust, a picnic in their panniers. She briefly thought of Fredrik – he seemed like a dream now.
A new track came on the radio. It was the summer hit of the year, an upbeat song with a reggae vibe, and it was played frequently. Ellie thought she must have heard it half a dozen times already that morning. Add that to the quota the day before, and the day before that, and she knew pretty much all the lyrics by heart. A summer anthem that, as all anthems did, would bring back memories. Ellie tried to picture the future but came up with a