There’s a beat. ‘OK, yes, yes—’
‘Christ!’ I lean back in my chair, cover my mouth with my hands. ‘Why the hell didn’t you say anything at the time?’ Why didn’t my mum?
She thrusts her head into her hands and begins to cry. ‘Jackson and I were having an affair – a fling really. It meant nothing.’
‘But you should have told the police you were one of the last people to see Jackson before he vanished.’
‘I couldn’t, OK.’ She looks up. ‘I couldn’t bear the thought of Neil finding out. I didn’t want to lose him. Is that why I’m here, Amelia? Are you going to rake it all up – ruin my marriage?’
I shake my head – no.
‘Then what’s so important that you needed to talk to me?’
‘Well one,’ I say, leaning forward and raising my index finger, ‘I think Elise may have seen you with Jackson. And two, I think she may still be alive and—’
‘Alive?’ She widens her eyes.
‘You need to be careful, Rosamund. She could be dangerous.’
‘Elise? Dangerous?’ She furrows her forehead. ‘Oh, Amelia, why would you even think that?’
‘OK. Right. The first thing is Ruth was wearing your bed jacket when she died. What if Elise thought it was you? And I’m pretty sure I saw her in the wood the night Lark went missing. I didn’t realise at the time – my head so full of ghost stories – but now I’m pretty sure it was Elise hanging up those awful masks ready to scare you – us – when we went in the woods the following day. And now she wants revenge.’
‘A whole year later?’
‘I know. That part doesn’t quite fit. But then she’s bigger now, stronger.’
‘Although the mask bit fits,’ she says, her voice rising, her eyes flashing as though she can suddenly see what I see. ‘She was obsessed with those stupid things, wasn’t she? Maybe she is still alive and she left the mask on my doorstep. Put one in the antique shop for you to find.’
‘Exactly,’ I say. ‘I don’t think you should go back to your house alone, Rosamund.’
‘Oh God,’ she says, covering her face with her hands. ‘No, no you’re right. I can’t go back there.’
There’s a painful silence for some moments, before she removes her hands from her face, and clenches her fists. ‘He ended it with me that night,’ she says.
‘Who? Jackson?’
She nods. ‘He said he felt guilty.’
‘Well, he bloody well should have.’
‘I regret every moment, Amelia,’ she says. ‘Jackson was a terrible flirt – a handsome charmer. He took me to his caravan in Laurel Wood a few times, that’s all. It was a short fling, nothing more. I loved Neil, always will. You have to believe me. It was over the night Lark vanished.’
‘So that’s why you took off, never spoke to my mum again?’ I stare into her eyes, see them shimmering.
She nods. ‘And I’m so, so sorry.’
The kettle boils, and I rise.
‘Can I borrow your loo?’ she says, rising too. She leaves the room, and as I make hot drinks, my mind buzzes. Mum had seen Rosamund and Jackson together. She’d known they were having an affair. Was that what the letter to Neil had said? Had Mum told him she’d seen them?
But no, that can’t be right. Neil is still with Rosamund. So did he forgive her? Had he known all along?
As I put the drinks on the table something niggles at my thoughts, but I can’t quite reach it. Frustrated I sit down; take a long sip of my coffee.
‘Maybe you could get booked into a B & B in Berwick tonight,’ I say as Rosamund returns.
She nods, sits too, picks up her mug. ‘Good idea.’
I pull out my phone, about to look up a suitable place for her to stay, when it hits me.
I stare into her eyes. ‘I never told you about the mask in the antique shop,’ I say.
Fear floods in. I get to my feet. ‘You should leave. Now.’
Something shifts in her eyes. She’s on her feet too. Within moments she’s grabbed a knife from the rack.
‘Christ!’ I cry. ‘What the fuck?’
‘I tried to veer you away from finding out the truth.’ She leaps towards me, pins me against the wall, points the blade at my throat. ‘Tried to lay the blame at Finn’s door. I thought the mask in the antique shop was a nice touch.’
‘Rosamund, please,’ I say, trying to fight back tears.
‘I hoped you’d recall Finn was in the area, put two and two together and make some absurd number. I never dreamed you’d think Elise was after me.’ She laughs. ‘God I wish I’d thought of that.’ She grabs me, slams me against the wall with the same force as the masked figure in the wood. It was her. It was her that awful night.
She looks down at me crumpled in fear and pain, and tilts her head. With a jolt she crouches down, and presses the tip of the knife against my throat. I whimper, pathetic.
She lifts her manicured finger against her lips, and I yelp as the knife nicks my skin. Her face is so close to mine, I can smell stale coffee on her breath. ‘It wasn’t meant to turn out like this,’ she says. ‘But one domino fell, then another, then another.’
‘Did you kill them?’ My words catch on my breath. ‘Maddie? Ruth?’
‘Yes. Yes I did.’ She’s so calm, proud of herself.
‘Please let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone.’
Blood pumps in my ears, as she shakes her head. ‘No can do, I’m afraid. And you might as well know, because I’m going to kill you anyway, that Elise is dead. I killed her too.’ She sounds triumphant.
‘Oh God, no. Why? Why would you do that? She was just a child.’
She screws up her nose. ‘In my defence, it was an accident. She’s buried in a field not far from
