What Have I Done - By Amanda Prowse Page 0,4

with this?’

She smiled her hesitant smile and chose her words carefully.

‘I can see that some people will only ever see what they want to see, Roland. I do know that. But it’s also important to recognise that some people are great deceivers. Mark was a great deceiver and, to a certain extent, so was I. He was a monster who pretended to be otherwise and I was a victim and pretended I was not. Guilty as charged.’

‘Kathryn, do try not to use that phrase, please.’

She didn’t know if he was joking.

‘Okay, Roland. The point that I’m making is that it doesn’t really matter to me what people think or what people think they know. I know the truth and one day my kids will know the truth, and that is the only thing that matters to me. The fact is, I am guilty, and I do expect to pay the penalty. You should know that for me there is no punishment that would match the life that I have lived as Mark’s wife. None. I am not afraid, not any more.’

Roland sat down on the opposite side of the rectangular table. He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles, clasped his hands behind his head and sighed. His mind flitted to the numerous times that he had sat at the table in the Brookers’ warm family kitchen, Kathryn wearing her floral apron and serving tea from a dotty pot. Mark would hold court and dish out the banter after Sunday service, debating the latest on the cricket while Classic FM hummed quietly behind the delicate clink of china on china.

None of it made any sense. Roland was fully engaged and prepared to listen. It was essential that he listened because he needed to hear. More importantly, he needed to understand.

He ran his hand over his face and finished by raking his scalp and patting his side parting.

‘I have been in this job for a long time and I know that things can happen. Sometimes on the spur of the moment; bad things, accidents—’

‘I think I know where you’re going with this,’ Kathryn interrupted, ‘but I should stop you right there. This was no accident. Not that I planned and plotted or anything like that, but it wasn’t an accident. I intentionally stabbed Mark and as I held the knife in my hand, I wanted to kill him. Thinking about it, I’ve probably wanted to do it for a long time, deep down. So whilst it was “spur of the moment”, as you say, it really wasn’t an accident.’

Roland shook his head; she wasn’t exactly helping herself.

‘I tell you what would help me greatly… why don’t you give me some examples?’

‘Examples?’

‘Yes, anything that will help me to fully comprehend what you have been through. Give me something typical.’

‘Something typical?’

‘Yes. A snapshot, if you like. Paint me a picture to help me get it; tell me exactly how it was. Explain to me what he did to you that was so bad. Enlighten me in simple terms as to what he put you through. You talk of fear and torture, but I need you to make it real. Tell me what he did that made you so afraid. Tell me what he did that pushed you to take his life.’

Roland had abandoned the friendly angle and was now in full copper mode.

‘You want a snapshot?’

‘If you like, yes.’

‘Let me think. A snapshot, things that were typical…’

She paused.

‘It’s difficult to know where to start, how much to give you.’

‘Give me anything, Kathryn, other than the phrase “my husband was a monster”, which is a bit too generic and dramatic to be of real use. Give me something tangible, something that will help me to understand, any detail that will help me explain it to others.’

‘Righto. There is one thing that I would like to say before I start, and that is that I will neither exaggerate nor understate the facts. I have told you and will continue to tell you only the whole truth and nothing but the truth – is that the phrase?’

Roland nodded. ‘Yes, that’s close enough. Ready when you are.’

Kathryn breathed in sharply and used her left thumb to spin her wedding band around her finger. It hadn’t occurred to her to remove it, but she now decided to do so as soon as she was alone. She pushed the gold sliver upwards and briefly pondered the groove it had notched into her finger, wondering how long

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