Knowing that this would all be over soon and that she could stop living this lie made her feel elated. And a little sad, truth be told. It had been a fun ride, but it was time to close it all down.
Tomorrow.
It would all end tomorrow.
*
Maddie’s eyes were tight and dry, like every drop of moisture had been sucked from them, leaving behind two glassy marbles. She drank her tea at the kitchen table, not really tasting it but needing the familiar warmth after a sleepless night spent staring at the ceiling.
Whatever happened, if she could be in the clear when it was all over, that would be a bonus, but a large part of her didn’t care. There was a strong possibility that things would not turn out well. Worst-case scenario would be that she was arrested not only for one murder, but implicated in Greg’s death too. Her brain struggled to comprehend how she had got herself into such a mess, but she couldn’t think about Greg for too long without feeling like she was hanging over a precipice, staring down into an abyss.
If she went to jail, so be it, but she should try as much as possible to take Jade down with her. Greg deserved that at least.
She looked at the address Jade had sent to her, opened the maps app on her phone and factored in the travel distance, memorised the route.
She set her phone back on the table and sat staring at the room in front of her. Her little flat didn’t feel much like a haven anymore. More like a place that had been violated by something poisonous and she needed to escape from it, to get as far away from it as possible.
There was nothing here for her anymore. Greg was gone; Jade was keeping Ben from her as punishment; Jemima wasn’t her daughter, no matter how much she wished she was; and Gemma would probably be happier if Maddie was miles away.
The way Maddie saw it, she had two options after today if she wasn’t arrested: to just take herself up onto the roof, lean over and watch the ground rush towards her. Who would miss her? Or to get away from here. Far away. To that little cottage by the sea, somewhere remote, where she could start over, have her own space that belonged just to her, free of memories. Somewhere isolated and quiet.
She had a dog in her daydream. She’d always wanted one, but Greg was allergic. She could hear a memory in her head, her telling him as he read the ingredients on some soup she’d bought that one day his allergies would be the death of her and he had replied, ‘No, Maddie, the death of me!’ and they’d laughed.
How they’d laughed.
She could feel panic clawing up her skin, so she thought about the dog she would buy. Something medium-sized, but not too energetic. Something that needed short walks and bursts of fresh air to get her out of the house, but not endless hours of running in fields. Maybe a rescue dog that needed a bit of love, one that would curl up in her lap.
Jemima would probably love a dog. Not that she would be able to come and visit. If Maddie left, she would be doing it in order to completely disappear. Like the woman who lived here before.
Maddie had a sudden urge to see Jemima, give her one last cuddle, maybe whisper an apology into her ear.
As she left the flat, she almost collided with Luke as he bundled into the building.
‘Oh, hey,’ he said with a wide smile, his top lip disappearing into his teeth. ‘I haven’t seen you in ages.’ Then he frowned. ‘You ok?’
‘Not really, I had some bad news a few days ago.’
‘Oh, shit, sorry. Do you want to talk about it? I could put the kettle on. You shouldn’t be alone. I wish you’d said sooner.’
She fought back another dose of tears and said, ‘That’s sweet, thanks, but I have something I have to do.’ She turned away from him towards the main door, then turned back and said, ‘You’re really nice, Luke. I’m glad we met.’ Then she rushed out before she could change her mind.
*
When Maddie walked up to the front door, she could hear Jemima screaming through the woodwork. An angry, indignant wail symptomatic of a toddler in full meltdown.
She paused with her finger over the doorbell, then rang it apologetically. She fully expected Gemma’s mother to act as doorkeeper again, but it was the lady of the house herself who pulled open the door. But this was not the neat, immaculately styled woman Maddie had seen a little over a week ago.
The woman standing in the doorway was wearing sports leggings and a stained sweatshirt, with feet stuffed into chunky slippers. Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, but strands had escaped and hung limply around her drawn face. The bags under her haunted eyes were plum-coloured and she’d made none of her usual effort at masking them.
Maddie was momentarily speechless.
How the mighty have fallen.
‘Hi, is now a bad time? I can come back,’ she said.
Gemma looked like she was about to crumble. Her face collapsed in on itself and Maddie stepped forward to take hold of her as she swayed on her feet. Gemma grabbed onto her and pulled Maddie into the house.
‘She won’t stop crying! I don’t know what to do!’ Gemma wailed, almost as loud as the cries coming from inside the house.
‘Hey, hey. Let me help. Come on.’ Maddie guided Gemma through the hallway. ‘Come and sit down in the kitchen and I’ll put the kettle on.’
Gemma’s slippers
