my Glebe Farm hoodie walking across the yard in the near darkness. Kate had surprised me with the jumper just last week, she had made them up for our stables. They had looked great with our horse head logo on the front and Glebe Farm Equestrian Centre printed across the back in large letters, below it was my name. I’d been in bed unless I’d been sleepwalking, could I be a ‘sleep murderer’? And my necklace. Oh, the moment they had shown me I’d absent-mindedly reached for my neck to see if it had been there. The policewoman had looked so smug when she told me ‘the deceased’ had been holding the necklace in her hand at the time of death and she had no doubt Olivia had torn it from her assailant as she was being attacked.

“What could I do? I know I didn’t do it…”

The duty solicitor looked up from his notepad. “Well, Mr Bishop, if you want my honest opinion unless you have some clear corroborating evidence to show you weren’t at the scene of the crime at the time, you are in deep trouble. I’m sorry, I just can’t sugar coat this for you. The officers are at this very moment calling the Crown prosecution service with their evidence, and it is pretty damning, you had already been seen causing the victim grievous bodily harm. What will happen next is that you will be up before York magistrates court for a first hearing then you will be held on remand before a Crown court case. Mr Bishop, you should expect a life sentence, with a minimum of between fifteen and thirty years in prison.”

I looked up in complete shock. The solicitor was already putting his notebook back in his case, getting ready to leave. So, this was it. I had no credible defence, whereas I knew I hadn’t killed Olivia it was clear the rest of the world felt different.

I allowed myself to be led back to the cells, sitting down heavily on the plastic bed. My life was over.

* * *

“Hilary?” There was a long silence at the end of the telephone.

“I don’t think I should be speaking with you, Kate…”

“No, wait…”

“No Kate. Your husband has done a terrible thing. Please don’t call me again.”

“No, but, please Hilary…”

The phone went dead.

* * *

“Amanda, I can’t doubt him. But…”

“Kate, he couldn’t have done it. I know my brother.”

“Do you? Amanda, we have both only really known him for a year or so. What if he did this?”

“Kate, you can’t believe that?”

“What can I believe? I’m not sure anymore…”

15

A Mother’s Loss

Horsegirl1 - Have you heard that Olivia Wright-Turner has been murdered?

Ponymad - About time if you ask me… Bitch!

Joddyboi - Yeah, I would like to shake whoever did that by the hand…

PennysHorz - But it was pretty nasty, stabbed through the heart with a pitchfork…

Ponymad - Did she have a heart?

BootznSaddle - LOL

Shetlands4Eva - No, she got what she deserved… Fu*king horse beater…

Joddyboi - You mean at Burghley last year?

Horsegirl1 - And almost every other show…

Hoofprints Online Chat Room

“Far be it from me to state that someone in the horse world should die, but let’s just say there isn’t a lot of love lost following the death of Olivia Bitch-Turner. Too many of us saw what she did to her horses. She was, by all accounts, a total bitch who should have been drummed out of the event circuit. It’s Hilary I really feel sorry for.”

Maz Turner - Facebook

“The horse world is reeling from the sudden and shocking death of Olivia Wright-Turner. Miss Wright-Turner was discovered at Hilary Wessington’s yard having been stabbed to death with a pitchfork and buried on the stables muck heap.

A controversial figure in the equestrian world after a YouTube video of her abusing her horse at a major three-day event in 2019 there have been some terse outbursts on social media. A man has been charged with her murder; however, the police have not released any names at this time.”

Horse World Magazine News Column

“Feisty Horse Girl Meets Mucky End

A popular horse rider and hopeful for team GB was last night stabbed to death with a pitchfork and dumped in a pile of horse muck. Shapely Olivia Wright-Turner, 18, pictured below, met her untimely end at the hands of what some suspect was a love rival. Read the whole gory story on page 7.”

Daily Post

* * *

“Grace, are you sure you should be doing this now?”

“Simon, my daughter has been murdered. I want justice. You have led my legal department for eight years; I want you to manage this.”

“Grace I’m not a criminal lawyer…”

“So, find one. I just want justice for my daughter, I want to make sure that the shit who killed my daughter in cold blood gets put away for a long time. I want his life destroyed; I want everything he was ever involved with ruined as I have been.”

“You’re upset, we have to wait for the first hearing…”

“No Simon. Listen to me, and listen well. I want everyone who could have been involved to be punished. I want his wife and his business; I want Hilary and her fucking horses. I want everything. Destroy them.” She hit the end call button and slammed down the phone.

* * *

“Mr Bishop.” I looked up seeing the custody sergeant standing in the cell doorway. “You should have been offered the chance to make contact with someone. I think the officers may have overlooked this, but is there anyone you would like to speak to, to tell you that you are here.”

I stuttered. I’d been here overnight and had no idea what the time was, my watch, belt and even my bootlaces had been taken from me.

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