Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
TASHA
The door opens and I jump, my breath coming sharp. Detective Sató steps inside the small grey room.
We’ve been at this for hours, but the detective is still so calm. She has a folder tucked under one arm and another bottle of water she places on the table for me. I flinch at the soft clunk it makes. My nerves are frayed, completely unspooled.
Time has lost all meaning in this awful place. Minutes have felt like hours. My stomach churns with hunger. I haven’t eaten since I finished Matilda’s half-eaten Weetabix this morning. Sweat has dried on my skin, leaving me feeling dirty. Stale.
I want to ask if she’s been speaking to Beth and Georgie?
What have they said? But we made a pact: no mention of each other.
Solo confessions will only work if we stick to the plan.
But Beth didn’t tell me what to do if the guilt inside me feels like it’s eating me alive.
She didn’t think about what it would be like sitting in this room hour after hour while our children were out there somewhere with that woman. A sob catches in my throat.
Please, please, please let them be safe by now.
And what of Marc? Is he home from golf? Did he walk into an empty house and think I left him?
I wish I could see him. To tell him I forgive him.
That I understand why he lied. Why he bought the vineyard for us.
That he’s right – it’s more than a dream.
It’s our future. Silent tears track two lines down my cheeks.
I have nothing left in me. It has to be time to end this.
Sató settles into the chair across from me, folding her hands on the table. ‘Thank you for waiting, Tasha. How are you feeling now?’
‘I’m OK,’ I lie. I’m not, and we both know it.
‘If it’s all right with you, I’d like to talk about the night of Jonny Wilson’s death. The PTA quiz night,’ Sató says, like we haven’t spent this entire time talking about exactly that.
I nod, biting back a protest. There’s something like a razor’s edge to Sató’s voice.
My muscles tense.
‘We’ve continued our door-to-door enquiries from the night of Jonny’s murder,’ she says, sliding open the folder.
‘And someone’s come forward today. A woman walking her dog around eight p.m. She said she saw a woman in a yellow top matching your description running down Magnolia Road heading in the direction of Magnolia Close.
Not dressed for exercise. Looking distressed. ’
Cold dread twists in my gut.
‘I was in the kitchen helping with food prep,’ I say quickly, needing to explain. Needing her to see the truth behind what she’s discovered. The detail of the night of Jonny’s murder I’ve not told anyone. ‘But there wasn’t much to do so I thought I’d nip home to check on the girls.’
It’s not quite true, but my real reason for leaving that night doesn’t matter now.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I should’ve said straight away, but I knew it looked bad. I was only gone a few minutes. Matilda – that’s my oldest – she gets upset easily. I was worried about her and wanted to check she was OK.
‘I got to the gates of Magnolia Close and realised how silly I was being, so I just called Florence, our babysitter. She said the girls were asleep, and I returned to the school. No one knew I was gone.’
‘Would you say you were at breaking point that night, Tasha? Your parents needed to live with you, but Jonny had blocked planning permission for your extension. You couldn’t find a way out.’
‘I was stressed, yes,’ I admit. ‘But—’
‘You needed something to change. You needed that extension. And Jonny was standing in your way.’
Sató is right. She knows it. I know it. I think of how desperate I felt the night in the pub when we met Keira.
There was no way forward, no escape from the relentlessness of my life.
And I realise I don’t feel that way anymore.
That even though I’m living in a nightmare, there’s hope.
I’m no longer buried alive. I can breathe.
And it’s all down to Marc and the plans he’s made for us.
Sató doesn’t blink. ‘Did you leave the quiz night with the intention of murdering Jonny Wilson?’
I open my mouth, but no words come. I’m supposed to be confessing to Jonny’s murder. I’m supposed to convince Sató, and now I have and I can’t follow through. I feel myself split in two. Cracking, like the shell of an egg squeezed too tight inside a fist.
I can’t carry on.
A guttural sob heaves through my body. I’m trembling all over. Can’t get the air into my lungs. I close my eyes and pray Alistair has found the children. That my girls are safe.
‘I didn’t kill Jonny,’ I whisper.
‘Excuse me?’ Sató replies. ‘Could you repeat that please?’
‘I said…’ I swallow, forcing my voice louder. ‘I didn’t kill Jonny. I’m not really here to confess.’
‘Then why are you here, Tasha? Because you told me not two hours ago that you killed Jonny Wilson.’
‘I… I lied.’
‘You lied about leaving the quiz that night, and now you’re lying about killing Jonny.’
‘Yes. I mean, no.’ I scrunch my eyes shut.
I can’t think straight. My chest cracks open.
The sob rips through me before I can stop it.
‘It wasn’t me. It wasn’t any of us,’ I cry.
‘We didn’t kill Jonny. We’re only here because the real murderer forced us to confess.
She has our children. She said we’d never see them again if we didn’t do exactly what she said. ’
In the silence that follows, the only sound is my heaving breath.
Sató’s eyes narrow. She still doesn’t believe me. ‘OK, Tasha, who forced you to come here today?’
‘A woman named Keira Philips. She manipulated and blackmailed us. All of this – the murder, the confessions, it’s her.’
I’m changing the plans I made with Georgie and Beth, messing everything up, but right now I can’t think past needing to see my girls.
Why didn’t we walk into this police station earlier and tell Sató the truth?
How would Keira have known what we were saying to her?
These questions seem so obvious now, but I was so swept up in the messages from Keira and scared for my girls, I didn’t stop to question the plan we made.
But getting to my girls – making sure they’re safe – that’s all that matters now.
The words spill out. I tell Sató everything. Everything since Keira’s sudden appearance.
‘We never thought it was real. Until she sent us the evidence. The top…’ I swallow.
My throat hurts. Head pounds. This is the moment.
I have to make her see. ‘And my dad’s prescription sleeping pills.
She must’ve taken them from my bag that night.
I don’t know how she got it, but she had a key to Jonny’s house too.
‘She wanted us to kill her ex. And when we refused, she… she… threatened our families.’ I can’t speak the words fast enough.
They tumble out, and I’m not even sure how much sense I’m making.
It all seems so unbelievable. ‘We went to do it, but we couldn’t go through with it.
But it was never about her ex anyway. Keira knew Jonny too.
We think she wanted him dead. There’s a photo of the two of them together.
Georgie has it. Ask her. Talk to the others.
She… made us come here today to confess to Jonny’s murder.
She has our children. You have to help us.
Please,’ I whisper, praying I’ve said enough, praying she believes me when I was so certain earlier she wouldn’t. ‘Help us. Help our children.’
But when I look up, Sató’s mouth is a firm line. Her eyes locked on mine.
‘And I’m supposed to believe you now? After all the lies you’ve admitted you’ve told me?’
‘We had no choice. She has our children.’
The room closes in. My vision blurs.
Beth said this plan would protect us. She said the police couldn’t charge us if we all confessed separately. But she was wrong. This isn’t the way out at all. All we’ve done is make everything worse. So much worse.