‘The search continues for missing Severn Oaks resident, Tristan Patterson. Tristan was reported missing by his mother after he failed to return home from a friend’s house where he was believed to be staying. Severn Oaks, home to celebrity couple —’
‘Oh God, turn it off.’ Miranda paced the room, stopping every few seconds to twitch the living-room curtains, which were still closed. She could only just see the corner of the street where a police car now sat outside the Patterson’s house.
‘Not going to go and confess to that one as well then?’ Alex snapped, but he flicked off the TV as requested.
Miranda had been waiting for this. They had barely spoken two sentences to one another since Alex had picked her up from the police station nine days ago when she had been – shudder – released on bail. Following her confession, Miranda had been arrested for administration of a noxious substance and released pending charges. Her solicitor had advised that there was still a slight chance that she could be charged with manslaughter, but it looked unlikely. The police would have to prove that Erica had been entirely unaware that she was drinking alcohol, and that the alcohol given to her by Miranda specifically caused her to fall out of the tree house. At this point, he’d suggested, it was impossible to prove how much alcohol Erica had drunk of her own accord, as well as how much – if any – of the spiked drink Miranda had served her. He argued that it was entirely possible that Erica had known that Miranda had given her alcohol and drank it anyway, in which case all she was guilty of was serving a drink. Erica might even have thrown it away. All they had was an anonymous voice on a podcast to suggest that Erica had given up alcohol, and no evidence to support the claim. All in all, it was unlikely the police would press any charges at all.
She was relieved, in a way, that he had finally brought it up now. He’d been sullen, only speaking to her when the children were around, and it had been almost unbearable. She’d spent most of the time in her bedroom – the room that Alex hadn’t been sharing since her arrest.
‘Very funny. Are you going to stay mad at me for ever? It was stupid of me to spike her drink, I know that.’
Alex looked at her, his mouth half open. ‘You think that’s why I’m mad at you? Because you got someone drunk at a party?’
‘Why else?’
Alex stood up. ‘Perhaps because you went to the police to confess to murder without even talking to me first? They could have locked you up, Miranda, you thought they were going to charge you with murder. Didn’t you think for a second what that would do to the kids? What it would do to me? To have you taken away from us and locked up for God knows how long? I would . . . I wouldn’t . . .’ He shook his head and made a strangled noise in his throat. ‘And you didn’t even bother to tell me.’
‘Because you would have convinced me not to go,’ Miranda said, her eyes filling with tears.
‘Of course I bloody would!’ Alex looked livid. ‘What good does it do for you to tell the police after all this time? Did it bring Erica back? It didn’t change anything for anyone other than us.’
‘Not us,’ Miranda whispered. ‘You . I went for you. I thought that once the police had my confession they would stop, the podcaster would stop.’
‘And what difference would that make to—? Oh fuck, no, Miranda. You thought . . .’ His handsome face creased in pain. ‘You think I killed Erica? That’s why you wanted the police to stop investigating, so they would stop looking for me?’
Miranda didn’t speak, she didn’t need to. This was it, Alex knew now why she’d done what she’d done. Her marriage was over.
‘I don’t know whether to be furious that you think I could push Erica out of a tree house, or flattered that you’d confess to murder to cover up for me.’ He paced the floor. ‘Why the hell would you think I’d do something so horrific? What was the motive you dreamed up for me?’
This was the bit Miranda had been dreading. Because the minute she told him the reason why she’d confessed, she’d have to see his face, and she’d know the truth – and he’d know that she knew Erica Spencer was carrying his baby. Right now they could still pretend – while it was unspoken – but not once it was out there. She’d have to demand to know how long it had been going on, and – however painful – if he’d loved her. If he’d been in love with the woman across the road who was pregnant with his baby. Then she’d have to forgive him, if he even wanted her forgiveness, but she would be left wondering if he was only with her because Erica was dead. Nothing would ever be the same.
She took a deep breath.
‘Because of the baby,’ she said, her words barely audible. ‘Because of Erica’s baby.’
‘But what does Erica’s baby have to do with . . .?’ Realisation dawned. ‘You think it was mine?’ He looked disgusted and heartbroken. ‘Is that what you think of me?’
Miranda was stunned. She’d readied herself for a denial – of course she hadn’t expected him to just come out and admit that the baby was his – but she hadn’t expected his denial to be so convincing.
‘Cynthia Elcock said . . . and I thought everyone knew . . .’
Alex crossed over to her and held out his arms. Miranda folded herself into him, too relieved to speak.
‘I love you, Mim,’ he said, using the special nickname only he had ever called her by. ‘I might be working a lot to keep your nails looking perfect, and I might drink too much at parties and make jokes like I’m a stupid hormonal teenager, but I thought under all that exasperated tutting you liked me like that. I thought it was boyish charm.’
‘You were listening to that podcast and I heard you, Alex – you were crying! And you came home early stinking of alcohol. Because you’d found out about the baby . . .’
‘I lost my job, Miranda.’ Alex let out a breath, and his face crumpled.
Miranda couldn’t understand. ‘You what? Don’t be ridiculous, that was ages ago, and you’ve been going to work every day.’
‘I’ve been out meeting potential clients. They told me they’d decided not to renew my contract that day – I finished at the end of that week. I’m pretty sure it was because of that podcast.’
Miranda let out a sob and Alex held her at arm’s length, looked at her in a way he hadn’t in years. ‘I should have told you. I just didn’t want to worry you, because there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve had three possible offers anyway. And I never touched Erica, or anyone else. I’ve never cheated on you, I love you.’
Miranda felt so, so stupid. She had confessed to wanting to hurt Erica in order to protect a man who she should never have doubted for a minute. He’d never given her a reason not to trust him, but that hadn’t stopped her taking fucking Cynthia Elcock’s word as gospel. Maybe she had just never believed that a man as good-looking and funny as Alex would only be hers, just hers. Next time she saw that woman . . .
‘So the baby was Jack’s then?’ Miranda’s entire body felt lighter as she and her husband lay on the sofa, their limbs intertwined, his hands stroking her hair.
Alex chuckled. ‘Well, I didn’t say that, did I?’