“Go ahead. You’ll make me a fortune. Everyone will buy the book to find out what the fuss is all about. And if it’s argued in a court, whichever one it is, I shall make damn sure this time that the evidence is heard.”
“What evidence?”
“The evidence that proves you didn’t do it.”
Olive slammed a meaty fist on to the table.
“I did do it.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did!” roared the fat woman.
“You did not,” said Roz, her eyes flashing with anger.
“When will you face up to the fact that your mother is dead, you silly woman.” She banged the table in her turn.
“She’s not there for you any more, Olive, and she never will be, however long you hide inhere.”
Two fat tears rolled down Olive’s cheeks.
“I don’t like you.”
Roz continued brutally.
“You came home, saw what your precious lover had done, and went into shock. And God knows, I don’t blame you.” She took the mortuary photographs of Gwen and Amber from her bag and slapped them on the table in front of Olive.
“You adored your mother, didn’t you? You always adore the people who need you.”
Olive’s anger was enormous.
“That’s crap, bloody fucking crap!”
Roz shook her head.
“I needed you. That’s how I know.”
Olive’s lip trembled.
“You wanted to know how it felt to kill someone, that’s all you needed me for.”
“No.” Roz reached across and took a large, soft hand in hers.
“I needed someone to love. You’re very easy to love, Olive.”
The woman tore the hand away and clamped it across her face.
“No one loves me,” she whispered.
“No one’s ever loved me.”
“You’re wrong,” said Roz firmly.
“I love you. Sister Bridget loves you. And we are not going to abandon you the minute you get out. You must trust us.” She closed her mind on the insidious voice that murmured warnings against a long-term commitment she could never keep and against well-meant lies that could so easily rebound on her.
“Tell me about Amber,” she went on gently.
“Tell me why your mother needed you.”
A sigh of surrender shuddered through the huge frame.
“She wanted her own way all the time, and if she didn’t get it she made life hell for everyone. She told lies about things people did to her, spread awful stories, even hurt people sometimes.
She poured boiling water down my mother’s arm once to punish her, so we used to give in just to make life easy. She was as nice as pie as long as everyone did what she wanted.” She licked the tears from her lips.
“She never took responsibility, you see, but it got worse after the baby was born. Mum said she stopped maturing.”
“To compensate herself?”
“No, to excuse herself.” She twined her fingers in the front of her dress.
“Children get away with behaving badly so Amber went on behaving like a child. She was never told off for getting pregnant. We were too afraid of how she would react.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“Mum had made up her mind to take her to a psychiatrist. She thought Amber had schizophrenia.” She sighed heavily.
“Then they were killed and it didn’t matter any more.”
Roz passed her a Kleenex and waited while she blew her nose.
“Why did she never behave badly at school?”
“She did,” said Olive flatly, ‘if people teased her or took her things without asking. I used to have to get quite angry to stop them doing it, but most of the time I made sure no one got on her bad side. She was a lovely person as long as she wasn’t crossed. Really,” she insisted, ‘a lovely person.”
“The two faces of Eve.”
