did something. I don’t remember what. She didn’t put enough tomato sauce on his plate. She laughed the wrong way.” Bonnie looked directly at Celeste. “You know.”
“I know,” said Celeste hoarsely. She put her hand on the couch where Perry had once held her head.
“You know what I did? I ran to my old bedroom and I hid under the bed.” Bonnie gave a little bitter laugh of disbelief. “Because that’s what my sister and I always did. I didn’t even think. I just ran. And I lay there on my stomach, my heart pounding, looking at that old green shag carpet, waiting for it to be over, and then all of a sudden I thought, ‘My God, what am I doing? I’m a grown woman hiding under the bed.’ So I got out, and I called the police.”
Bonnie pulled her plait over her shoulder and readjusted the elastic at the end. “I don’t hide under the bed anymore. I don’t keep secrets, and I don’t want people to keep secrets for me.”
She pushed her plait back over her shoulder. “Anyway, the truth is bound to come out. Madeline and Renata will be able to lie to the police. But definitely not Ed. And not Jane. And probably not even my poor hopeless husband. Nathan will probably be the worst of the lot.”
“I would have lied for you,” said Celeste. “I can lie.”
“I know you can.” Bonnie’s eyes were bright. “I think you’re probably very good at it too.”
She stepped forward and put her hand on Celeste’s arm. “But you can stop now.”
81.
Bonnie is telling the truth.
It was a text message from Celeste.
Madeline fumbled the phone as she dialed Ed’s number. It suddenly seemed as though the future of her marriage depended on her reaching him before he went in for his interview.
The phone rang and rang. It was too late.
“What is it?” His voice was curt.
Relief flooded her. “Where are you?”
“I’ve just parked the car. I’m about to go into the police station.”
“Bonnie is confessing,” said Madeline. “You don’t need to lie for her.”
There was silence.
“Ed?” she said. “Did you hear me? You can tell them exactly what you saw. You can tell them the truth.”
It sounded like he was crying. He never cried.
“You shouldn’t have asked that of me,” he said roughly. “That was too much to ask of me. That was for him. You were asking me to do that for your ex-bloody-husband.”
“I know,” said Madeline. She was crying now too. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I was going to do it.”
No, you weren’t, my darling, she thought as she brushed away her tears with the back of her hand. No, you weren’t.
Dear Ziggy,
I don’t know if you remember this, but last year at kindergarten orientation day I was not very nice to you. I believed that you had hurt my daughter and I now know this was not true. I hope you will forgive me and I hope that your mum will forgive me too. I behaved very badly to you both and I am sorry.
Amabella is having a going-away party before we move to London, and we would be honored if you would attend as our very special guest. The theme is Star Wars. Amabella said to bring your lightsaber.
Yours sincerely,
Renata Klein (Amabella’s mum)
82.
Four Weeks After the Trivia Night
Has she tried to speak to you?” said Jane to Tom. “That journalist who is interviewing everyone?”
It was midmorning on a beautiful winter day. They stood together on the boardwalk outside Blue Blues. A woman sat at a table near the window, frowning as she transcribed notes onto her laptop from a Dictaphone attached to her ear by a single earplug.
“Sarah?” said Tom. “Yeah. I just give her free muffins and tell her I’ve got nothing to say. I’m hoping she’ll mention the muffins in her story.”
“She’s been interviewing people since the morning after the trivia night,” said Jane. “Ed thinks she’s trying to get a book deal. Apparently even Bonnie spoke to her before she was charged. She must have reams of stuff.”
Tom waved to the journalist, and she waved back, lifting her coffee in a salute.
“Let’s go,” said Tom.
They were taking some sandwiches around to the headland for an early lunch. Jane’s sling for her broken collarbone had come off yesterday. The doctor had told her she could start doing some gentle exercise.
“Are you sure Maggie can handle the café?” asked Jane, referring to Tom’s only part-time employee.
“Sure. Her coffee is better than mine,” said Tom.
“No,