‘Heart-shaped invitations, heart-shaped biscuits, heart-shaped balloons, pink champagne in heart-shaped glasses, heart-shaped pizzas … heart-shaped pizzas? Seriously? Ugh. Tacky or what?’
I giggled at the undisguised disgust in Flora’s voice. She really was not the hearts and flowers type.
‘Well, it is a Valentine’s Day party. People like hearts on Valentine’s Day, Flora, what can I say? We give the client what the client wants. She can have heart-shaped flipping loo roll in the bathroom if she wants it.’
Flora’s eyes widened.
‘Someone makes heart-shaped loo roll? How does that work then? How does it fit on the … oh, very funny.’
Still laughing, I moved to one side as Flora threw her pen at me.
‘Ouch, don’t! Sorry, it was just your face as you read the list of heart-shaped stuff … you don’t realize how funny you can be, Flora.’
‘Hmmph.’ She snorted in an exaggerated fashion, but there was a little smile playing on her lips now.
‘Well, I’m glad I amuse you. Shall I pour the tea?’
‘You do. And yes, please. I’m just going to move Olaf into the living room. Every time I stand up I worry I’m going to trample him, poor love.’
I bent down and gently picked the kitten up, stroking his soft head as I carried him into the front room and gently deposited him on the hearth rug, where he immediately curled into a sleepy ball. Remarkably, the very next day after the Hamish tragedy, Greg had seen an advert in the local paper offering Persian kittens for immediate rehoming. To Sienna’s intense joy, the adorable ball of white fluff now known as Olaf had joined us that very evening, and after just a couple of days already felt like part of the family.
Smiling – he really was the sweetest little thing – I returned to the kitchen, where my tea was waiting for me. Flora and I had just settled down at the kitchen table for a quick debrief on last night, and a look ahead to Wednesday, when we’d be throwing the Valentine’s party for Lara Foster, the Cheltenham Town footballer’s wife. The pyjama party had been a resounding success – Octavia had been thrilled, hugging us both as we left and pressing an extremely generous cash tip into my hand. When we’d arrived home just after midnight, I’d handed most of the money to Flora.
‘For all your hard work recently,’ I said. ‘You deserve it.’
She’d gaped at the notes and then, to my surprise, flung her arms around me. When she released me a few moments later, she had tears in her eyes.
‘Oh Flora, sweetie, don’t cry! It’s only money. I’ll take it back if it upsets you!’ I laughed.
She laughed too, stuffing the cash into her jeans pocket.
‘No way! Thank you so much, Annabelle. I’m sorry, I’m an idiot. It’s just that … well, you’re so kind to me. I feel … I don’t know, sort of valued here. And sort of part of the family too. You’ve made me so welcome, and I love my job. I appreciate it so much, and I’m sorry if … well, I’m sorry if I don’t often show it. I’m not that good, with emotion …’
She wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, and I felt a sudden wave of affection. She was so young, really, and I remembered how insecure I’d been at twenty-five and suddenly wondered if I should be doing more to show how much I appreciated her. She worked so hard, and was so great with the kids. I really couldn’t imagine life without her now.
‘Oh my goodness, don’t apologize,’ I said, and reached for her hands, squeezing them. ‘You are absolutely part of the family, and highly valued, and I should tell you that more often too. Treat yourself to something nice with that money, please. You’ve more than earned it.’
We’d headed for bed after that, and I’d fallen asleep with a warm glow, remembering the smile on Flora’s face as we’d parted on the landing. I was glad she was finishing the day on a high note. Earlier, as we’d eaten breakfast together, I’d mentioned Thea, and what she’d said to me when we’d bumped into each other in Cheltenham. I hadn’t mentioned seeing her former employer to Flora when we met up again to drive home after our shopping, not wanting to sour the mood, so why on earth had I mentioned it now?
I knew instantly by Flora’s face that I’d made a mistake, and mentally kicked myself. What Thea had said to me, about remembering things about the day Zander died, about the fact that she thought someone else had been responsible, had haunted me the evening after I’d seen her, but I’d been vague when I’d mentioned it to Greg, just saying that Thea’s memories were returning and she was feeling confused. He’d been there that day after all, and the more I thought about it, the more ludicrous Thea’s claims sounded. She had looked wretched, broken – was that why she had temporarily convinced me that there might be some truth in what was she was saying? Was it just sympathy for a woman whose life was crumbling that had made me believe her? Probably. So why had I brought it up now, with Flora? What was wrong with me, always going on about the Ashfields, when I knew she couldn’t bear to talk about them, when I knew she was still traumatized by what had happened there?
‘Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry, Flora. There I go again. Forget I said anything.’
I stopped buttering my toast and turned to look at her. Her eyes were fixed on her plate, her hands still working her knife and fork, cutting up a sausage, but her body looked stiff, her movements suddenly jerky. She shrugged, not looking at me.
‘It’s OK. It’s the same sort of stuff she said to me, that time she asked me to go round to see her. I think she’s crazy, Annabelle, honestly, and I hate saying that. But I think she’s lost it a bit. I don’t blame her – I can’t even imagine what she’s going through; it must be horrendous; it was bad enough for me, for the rest of us, seeing … well seeing Zander like that. But she was his mother, and I’m almost not surprised that her brain is finding it impossible to accept what she did; it must be unbearable. Even so … what she’s saying, that she doesn’t think she did it … I mean, it’s bonkers, right?’
I sat still for a moment, thinking, then nodded slowly.
‘Yes. It probably is. And it’s just the saddest thing in the world, isn’t it?’
Flora’s eyes met mine, and she nodded too.
‘It’s the worst thing I’ve ever had to witness,’ she said quietly, then dipped her head again, spearing a piece of sausage with her fork.
We ate in silence after that, and the more I thought about it, the more I knew Flora had to be right, just like Greg was.
I was thinking about it again now, as we sat at the kitchen table sorting out the final details of the Valentine’s party, my mind constantly drifting away from pink confetti and heart-shaped everything to Thea. She had been so convincing, when she had told me what she’d told me, but now that I could look back on our meeting with a level of objectivity, it seemed insane to think that anyone other than her could have been responsible for the baby’s death. Who on earth would do something like that?
CRASH.
Flora and I both jumped as, down the hallway, the front door banged open, flung inwards so hard it bounced back against the wall. I pushed the notes on the Valentine’s do aside and stood up, alarmed.
‘Greg? Is that you?’
It was. My husband was staggering down the corridor, his face deathly white.
‘Annabelle.’
His voice was a hoarse gasp, and my alarm grew as he flung himself into an empty chair. His eyes were red-rimmed, his hair wild, as if he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly.
‘Greg! What’s wrong? Has something happened? Have you … have you been crying? Oh no, no no no … please don’t tell me it’s one of the kids? Greg, talk to me!’
I was standing over him, practically screaming, panic gripping me. My husband sank his head into his hands, and I turned to look at Flora, who looked as horrified as I felt.
‘Greg … Mr Garrington? What is it? Please, you’re scaring us,’ she said, her voice shaky.
Greg raised his head and looked at me.
‘The kids are fine. Well, our kids are anyway.’
Relief flooded through me, to be instantly replaced by more fear.
‘What do you mean, our …?’
He was looking at Flora now, ignoring me.
‘I’ve just been talking to Thea,’ he said. ‘She told me something. Confirmed something, Something I’ve suspected for a long time. Something I’m wondering if you already knew, Flora.’
Flora frowned, and then her eyes widened.
‘Oh.’
Her voice was a whisper. Simultaneously, they both turned to look at me, and the expression in their eyes sent a chill down my spine.
‘What? For God’s sake, what is going on?’
‘Annabelle.’
There were tears in my husband’s eyes now, and I had a sudden terrible sense of foreboding, a sudden absolute knowledge that whatever this was, whatever he was about to say, was going to change everything, was going to destroy life as I knew it.
‘Greg. Don’t, please …’ I whimpered the words, but he wasn’t listening.
‘Annabelle. I have something to tell you.’