The Vow - Debbie Howells Page 0,101

After I opened the door, she just barged in and started throwing her weight around. She was clearly erratic, to the point you couldn’t imagine anyone would take her seriously, but she was determined she was going to change that.’ As she speaks, my mother’s eyes are filled with anxiety. ‘It was a kind of threat. She wanted to make herself more credible than I was, almost as if she knew this was going to happen so that one day, it would be her who was believed, not me.’

‘Do you think the police will believe her?’ I look at her, alarmed.

‘I’ve no idea.’ My mother looks helpless. ‘But it’s important that you do, Jess. I didn’t kill Matt and I didn’t kill Kimberley. I couldn’t have – I’m not made that way. It was Allie. She was jealous. She wanted Charlie for herself. We made a potion together to make Kimberley fall out of love with Charlie, but it was never meant to be anything more than harmless.’

‘I do believe you.’ I’m still stunned, but it explains the feeling I’ve had, that she’s been keeping something from me.

‘My grandmother took responsibility.’ My mother’s eyes are haunted. ‘She told the police that it was her fault that the herbs were accessible to anyone else. But she knew full well it wasn’t.’

Staring blankly ahead, realising how long my mother’s kept this hidden, I try to think what to do. Then I look at her again. ‘There must be something else you can tell me – about that time. Who else was there? Your grandmother? Or Kimberley’s boyfriend?’

My mother’s eyes cloud over, as she remembers. ‘My grandmother was. Our house was hers, Jess. She left it to me, so that I’d forever be reminded of Kimberley’s death. It was her way of punishing me. And poor Charlie Brooks … I’ll never forget him. The irony is, Allie never had a chance with Charlie. After Kimberley died, he killed himself.’ She glances away, but not before I notice her eyes are filled with tears. ‘So many deaths, Jess. Kimberley, Charlie, my parents … It was devastating. All because of one reckless act of stupidity, by one selfish person, who until now, has got away with it.’

*

As Cath drives us back to Brighton, I’m deep in thought, oblivious to everything around me, in my mind going over and over what my mother told me, searching for a link between her, Allie and Matt. There has to be a clue, somewhere, to what the police are missing.

Halfway back to Brighton, I turn to Cath. ‘Would you mind if we called in at home? Not to stay. I just want to look for something.’

She nods. ‘OK. Anything in particular?’

I pause, then I tell her what my mother said, using her words, because if the court case goes ahead, it’s only a matter of time before everyone will know. ‘I found out something today. Mum’s real name isn’t Amy Reid. It’s Emily Preston.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Her sister died when she was fifteen. Everyone thought it was an accident, but it wasn’t. Mum’s friend, Allie, caused her death. It was hushed up at the time, but suddenly the police have found out about it. It happened in our garden – our house used to belong to her grandmother. Before she died, she left it to Mum.’ I pause, because I’m not sure about how much Cath knows. ‘It’s the weirdest thing about Allie – or Fiona, as she’s called now …’ I stop; it really is strange. ‘She’s the same woman Matt was going to leave Mum for.’

‘You are joking.’ Cath’s flabbergasted. ‘God.’ There’s another silence. ‘That’s too weird to be a coincidence, surely?’

‘It’s why I want to go back to the house. I know the police have searched it, but I need to look around myself. There might be a clue of some kind, as to what’s really happened.’ I pause, frowning. ‘Could Matt have found out that they used to know each other?’

‘Even if he had, it still doesn’t make sense.’ She changes the subject. ‘Oh, look …’

Hearing a roaring sound, I follow her gaze to the low-flying jet above us, that’s just taken off from Gatwick. What I wouldn’t give to be on that right now, with my mother, headed away from all this madness somewhere far away, towards the sun.

It’s a relief when we finally turn off the busy motorway and take the country roads that thread along the foot of the