Chapter 70
WILLOW
If I was nervous before, now I’m really spooked. Why on earth would Simone summon Amber to the lighthouse, alone? I picture my stepmother as she’s been since Dad died. Brittle, jumpy, defensive.
Grieving?
Not so much.
I’m about to screw up the note and lob it in the bin, when I hesitate. The paper’s a crumpled mess in my hands but I smooth it out, fold it carefully and slip it into the pocket of my shorts.
It could be evidence.
Things are beginning to click into place, the cogs in my brain spinning with the effort of it all.
But before I can pick everything apart there’s something I need to do.
Someone I need to protect. I charge out of the room and down the stairs, my breath catching in my throat.
I consider stopping to tell Mum where I’m going but she’ll only slow me down with a barrage of questions and I don’t have the time. I’m probably too late already.
I fly out of the front door, giving the police officer outside the fright of his life.
‘Sorry,’ I pant. ‘Just going on a run,’ I improvise, forcing a smile and pointing to my get-up. I’m not sure when a vest top, cut-off denim shorts and Converse were the go-to gear for running, but he either doesn’t care or can’t understand me.
The sun beats down on the back of my neck as I race up the track towards the lighthouse.
It’s a good mile away. I haven’t run that far since I flirted with the idea of taking up cross-country running in Year 8.
One circuit of our school’s muddy playing fields in the rain soon put paid to that.
But today, I’m powered by fear, and it’s not long before the lighthouse tower flashes white through the trees up ahead.
I stop for a moment to catch my breath. My lungs and thighs are burning and I’m drenched in sweat. Once my breathing’s under control I creep round the side of the lighthouse, listening with every step.
I hear their raised voices before I see them.
A tableau of three on the top of the cliff, their outlines stark against the electric-blue sky.
Simone, Amber and Dominic. Simone is pacing up and down, metres from the edge, her hair whipping in the wind, her shoes sending up tiny dust clouds with every step.
Even from this distance she looks dishevelled, her movements jerky.
Amber, standing to one side, is oddly still.
She’s cradling her right arm to her chest as she watches the Wicked Stepmother spit vitriol at them both.
Dominic, hands up and facing Simone, reminds me of a football referee trying to calm two warring sides in a cup final.
I creep closer.
‘Fuck you, Dominic Brookes!’ Simone screeches. ‘So much for always being there for me. You’re a fucking hypocrite!’
‘I can’t do it anymore, Simone. I’m tired of your games.’
‘So you’re going to throw me to the wolves, just like that? You… you bastard!’ She spins on her heels and jabs a finger in Amber’s direction. ‘This is because of her, isn’t it?’
‘Her name’s Amber,’ he says evenly. ‘And, yes, I suppose it is. Because I’m not letting you poison her life too. She doesn’t deserve it.’
‘Oh, please. Stop with the sentimental crap already. She’s a chav from a Catford council estate, that’s all. No redeeming features whatsoever. Surely even you can see that?’
Amber’s eyes widen. Dominic’s hands drop to his sides as he gives up trying to reason with her. Even from this distance I can see the muscle twitching in his jaw.
‘Don’t be such a bitch. She’s worth a hundred of you, Simone. I won’t let you frame her for something she didn’t do.’
My ears prick at this. He’s talking about Dad’s murder, he must be. I edge closer.
‘Felix deserved everything he got,’ she crows. Her tongue darts out as she grins. It’s as creepy as fuck. ‘If I could turn back the clock the only thing I’d change is that I’d have done it sooner.’
Her words hit like a sledgehammer. Is she saying… is she saying she killed Dad? The hairs on the back of my neck stiffen. I take another step forwards. Simone must hear me because she spins round.
‘Oh, look. If it isn’t my darling stepdaughter, Willow the little eco-warrior. How nice of you to join us.’ Her voice drips sarcasm.
‘Did you kill Dad?’ The words are out before I can stop them, even though behind Simone Dom is shaking his head, urging me to keep quiet.
Simone tilts her head, her index finger to her chin, as if she’s thinking. ‘Hmm, let’s see. Did I kill your father?’ Her lips are stretched tight over her teeth as she laughs again. ‘Of course I did.’
I recoil. Even though it’s clear she’s lost the plot, I have no doubt she’s telling the truth. One word forces its way past my swollen throat. By the time it comes out it sounds more like a wail.
‘Why?’
‘If you think I’m going to justify myself to you, you’ve got another think coming. Anyway, you should be thanking me. You’ll inherit half his money now.’ She giggles and tosses her head. ‘The rest goes to little old me, of course.’
‘You’re a bitch, Simone. A bitch and a fraud.’ My eyes fill with tears, but I blink hard. I want to look her straight in the eye when I unmask her. I grit my teeth. ‘I know who you really are.’
For a second, her face twists, and I can’t tell if it’s with doubt or anger. I become aware of the noise of the waves crashing against the rocks far below us. They’re so loud I can’t think how I haven’t noticed them before.
‘What do you mean?’ she falters.
‘You’re a liar, Simone. You’ve been lying all your life. And I can prove it.’ I wait a beat. ‘Oh, and before I left the villa I showed Demetriou the note you left Amber,’ I bluff. ‘He’s on his way.’
I don’t know how I thought she’d react, but it’s not like this. It’s as if I’ve flicked a switch. She looks from Dominic to the edge of the cliff and back again, then gives a desolate roar.
‘No!’ Dominic cries, as if he’s read the script and knows what’s coming next. Simone ignores him, and pitches forwards until she’s perilously close to the drop.
‘Dom!’
His head jerks round at the sound of Amber’s voice and their eyes lock.
‘I should have stopped this sooner,’ he says hoarsely.
‘I’m sorry.’ He turns back to Simone, who has shuffled to the very edge.
With one last anguished look at Amber, he darts forwards and grabs Simone, trying to haul her back to safety.
They grapple for a moment, teetering on the brink, their arms flailing.
And then they’re gone.