I watch for a moment, then find my voice. ‘Looking for something?’
Across the room, Matt freezes, then turns to me, a look of hatred on his face. I should be terrified, but knowing what he’s done, thinking of my mother charged with his murder, I find a strength I didn’t know I had. Incensed by his arrogance, that he thinks he can intimidate me, thinking of his twisted mind games, my fear is gone. ‘You can’t honestly believe you’ll get away with this. You’re scum, Matt. A despicable human being. You know it and I know it, and soon the whole world will know it.’ My voice is trembling, not from fear, but from anger at what he’s done to my mother, furious at everything he’s done to me; and who knows who else along the way. ‘You have no right to fuck up other people’s lives.’
He starts to laugh, a cynical, cruel sound. ‘You should tell that to your mother and her friend. They didn’t care about anyone other than themselves. Two selfish teenagers, wrecking all those lives … And all this time, they’ve got away with it.’
I shake my head. ‘You’ve got this so wrong. My mother is innocent.’
‘Keeping their secret all these years? I’d hardly call that innocent.’ He laughs again. ‘They’re both guilty, but quite honestly, I don’t care what happens to either of them.’
I watch him feel inside the wardrobe. ‘By the way, you won’t find anything. The painting’s smashed.’ I watch rage flicker in his eyes. ‘It’s outside. I’ve thrown it away.’ It’s deliberately inflammatory, but I’m past caring. I want to hurt him as much as he’s hurt me.
For a moment he doesn’t move. Then he takes a step towards me, sneering. ‘Do you know what, sweet little Jess? I’m going to tell you about my brother and after that, I’m going to make sure you can never tell anyone you’ve seen me. If only you’d stayed away …’ His eyes narrow. ‘But maybe there’s a certain justice after Charlie dying, in you also dying far too young. That was all I ever wanted. Justice.’
Knowing he’s capable of anything, I’m terrified. Out of the corner of my eye, I glance towards the window, praying the police are on their way. When I look back at him, there’s a wildness in his eyes as he goes on.
‘He was about your age when he died. It ruined my parents’ lives and by default, mine, too. After he died, my poor, weak mother took her own life. She couldn’t bear to live with the pain of losing him. She gave no thought to me, her other son, growing up without his mother and his brother.’ Words filled with venom as he breaks off, shaking his head. ‘Shortly after that, my father sold his business. He’d lost all interest in living. But I haven’t told you how Charlie died, have I? Shall I tell you?’ I stare at him, horrified, knowing what he’s going to say. ‘He had a girlfriend who was everything in the world to him. A beautiful, sweet, kind girl called Kimberley. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together. They were the kind of people that you felt better off for knowing. Just being with them, you could feel their love. I don’t know what cock and bull story your mother’s spun you, but it was her and her stupid friend who killed her. Charlie couldn’t come to terms with living without her. So he hung himself. From a tree. Out there. In your garden.’ For a moment, his expression is one of extreme sadness. But then he turns to me again. ‘I hadn’t planned to come here, but then I saw that magazine piece. When I realised who your mother was, after what she did to Charlie and Kimberley, I couldn’t let it go. It ate away at me when I read about the cosy little life she’d created for herself, the business she’d built, her lovely daughter. It was too unfair.’
Looking at him, I gasp. ‘You even sent the flowers, didn’t you? Using your own blood.’ I shake my head, feeling sick. ‘How could you?’
‘I cut a vein. It wasn’t difficult. Nothing is if you want it enough.’ As his eyes turn away, one of his sleeves slips back, revealing a bandage.
Standing there, I’m shocked into silence as the final pieces fall into place, his story meshing with my mother’s as I know he’s insane. Hearing a car pull up outside, he glances towards the window.
‘You called the fucking police.’ As he turns back to look at me, his voice is loaded with venom. ‘You’ll regret this.’ Muttering under his breath, he steps close enough that I can smell his body odour, a menacing look on his face as he threatens me. ‘One day, when you’re least expecting it, I swear I’ll find you, Jess. You’ll look around and see me there, and this time, there won’t be any police to come to your rescue. You won’t be able to get away from me. Think about how it will feel, when at last I catch up with you – because I will. You haven’t heard the last of this.’
In that moment, my terror knows new heights. Knowing he’s going down, he’s left me with something I can never forget. Fear – that if he ever gets out of prison, he’s going to look for me; that wherever I go, I’ll never be safe. Rooted to the spot, I hear the police coming up the stairs. Then from behind me, comes PC Page’s voice.
‘Matthew Roche, I am arresting you on suspicion of perverting the course of justice. You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later
