A fresh rustling sounded deep in the grass, and Joe watched a blackbird emerge onto the path and run over to a greenhouse, which was so full of bolting plants that it looked like a crowded tube train, all the backs pressed against the doors.
He said, ‘You found someone who recognised her?’
‘In Llandrindod Wells. The garage where she bought her petrol. They told me she lived somewhere up Nant Garth valley.’
‘And you found her?’
Sarah nodded. ‘I watched for her in the valley and followed her up to the log cabin. I went there again the next weekend, and the next, trying to work out how to get her alone. They had this routine. Chetwood took the dog for a walk in the morning while Jenna took the pony for a ride. It was the only time when she was alone, but it wasn’t ideal. But then this one weekend I realised Chetwood wasn’t around. His car was gone, and it was Jenna who took the dog out first thing. So when she went to take the pony for a ride I simply waited in the cabin.’
She seemed in no hurry to continue, so Joe said quite roughly, ‘Go on.’
Emerging slowly from her thoughts, she murmured, ‘Yes … So … I’d prepared it all in my mind, every possible scenario. Anger, denial, arrogance. I’d imagined every possible reaction except the one she produced. Total silence. That was what got to me! She just sat there like this bloody nun, looking holy and not saying a word. Well, I’d had quite enough of defendants claiming their right to bloody silence. I totally lost it. After all those years I wasn’t going to put up with that sort of rubbish! I was totally incensed. So I tied her up tight - and I mean tight. I wanted to hurt her! I did hurt her! I was glad to be hurting her. I was so angry I could have killed her!’
‘And you almost did.’
Sarah gave an involuntary shudder. ‘Yes!’
‘You almost strangled her.’
‘I have no memory of actually putting my hands round her throat. None at all. All those defendants who tell you they don’t remember half killing someone, that they had a sort of blackout - well, they’re absolutely right. It’s rage that does it.
The first thing I knew I was squeezing her throat as hard as I could and her face was bright red, her eyes were - horrible.
I stopped immediately. I stopped as soon as I realised what I was doing.’
Joe sat forward, the better to watch her face.
Sarah was rushing on now, as if to get the story over and done with. ‘But I told her that if she didn’t start talking I really would do it, I really would kill her. She said she wouldn’t blame me. That’s the first thing she said after - well, after she’d got over all the coughing and spluttering. “I wouldn’t blame you.” She told me it had been on her conscience all those years, that she bitterly regretted what she’d done, how it never left her, not for a single moment, how she’d loved Sam, how she would give up her life a dozen times over if it would bring him back, how she’d thought of killing herself hundreds of times.
All this stuff. Well! At first I thought she was having me on. I thought she was just trying to talk her way out of it. But I’ve seen too many people in the witness box over the years, I’ve seen too many people lying through their teeth. If she was lying, she was the best I’d ever seen. Not that I let her off the hook,’ she added sharply. ‘No -1 made her spell it out for me.
Chapter and verse.’
‘What happened with Sam.’
‘Everything.’ She fluttered her hand in a gesture of impatience, as if she didn’t have much time for this part of the tale. ‘According to her, she thought Chetwood had left her, and it drove her a bit mad.’ Sarah flashed her eyes derisively.
‘Well, we could all say that, couldn’t we? That we all get a bit mad from time to time. She fell in love with Sam on the rebound, she said. Well! Not a term I would have used - love.
Anyway - then Chetwood came back, and he and Jenna had this huge night-long discussion, and Sam—’ Her voice broke abruptly, she sucked in her cheeks. ‘Sam waited through the night, thinking Jenna was finishing with Chetwood, believing he and Jenna were going to be together for ever, never doubting … Eventually, Jenna went and told him that she was going back to Chetwood, that she’d loved him all along. At which point Sam announced that he couldn’t live without her, and went out to the car. According to Jenna, she would have gone after him’ - Sarah turned her pale gaze on Joe - ‘but Chetwood talked her out of it. That was her story - that Chetwood persuaded her to let Sam go, persuaded her that Sam would calm down by the morning.’
Now she was facing him, Joe noticed that her nose had gone white at the tip, and her cheeks were transparent with cold. Even as he gazed at her, she shivered slightly. He stood up and offered her a hand. ‘And you let Jenna go.’
‘She started going on about God - what else could I do?’
Avoiding his hand, Sarah got to her feet. ‘Damnation and judgement and all that stuff. I realised there was nothing I could do to her that she hadn’t already done to herself.’
They began to walk. Joe said, ‘You had no idea what she was planning when you left?’
‘None. She was upset, but no more than she deserved to be. At first I was glad she’d killed herself. Now … well, you could say I recognise the benefits of forgiveness, even if I can’t bring myself to practise it.’
They passed under the arch onto the damp lawn. Confronted by the dark house, Sarah seemed to hesitate. ‘The CID
in Wales,’ she said in a brittle voice, ‘did they seem fairly bright to you?’
‘They did, as a matter of fact.’
‘In that case I won’t bother to call them.’
‘To say what?’
She gave a caustic laugh. ‘Why, to give myself up, Joe. To turn myself in.’
He stopped and caught her arm. ‘For what?’
‘Oh, GBH or attempted murder. I can’t imagine it’ll be much less.’
‘But… do you have to?’
‘I don’t think I have much choice. They’ll have traced everything back to me by now. They really can’t fail to.’
He groaned. ‘The bloody passport.’
‘And other things, Joe. Plenty of other things. I didn’t exactly cover my tracks.’
‘So what’ll happen?’
‘Oh, it’ll be a custodial sentence of some sort.’
‘My God, Sarah. My God.’
She would have turned away, but he held her back with a hand on her shoulder. She would not meet his eyes.
‘At least let me come with you. Make sure you’re okay.’
She almost smiled as she shook her head. ‘But thanks anyway. I have no regrets, Joe. And if I do’ - she stole a quick glance at him - ‘then I’ll learn to live with them.’ She gave a shudder as if from the cold and, swinging away, walked rapidly towards the house.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Clare Francis is the author of seven international bestsellers, Night Sky, Red Crystal, Wolf Winter, Requiem, Deceit, Betrayal and A Dark Devotion. She has also written three non-fiction books about her voyages across the oceans of the world.
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