I can’t let Marie tell Alex about what happened. I can’t let her control that narrative. No doubt she will leave out how completely horrific Ciara was before it all happened. How she had stalked me and humiliated me. She will focus on the fire, the six weeks I spent in in-patient care afterwards. The months in therapy. How I had to miss out on the end of my first year at university and start all over again the following academic year.
I was the demon. Ciara, who had admitted sending all those messages, seemed to be absolved of her sins. She had been drunk. Hurting. And sure, it had been almost two years since the last message.
I got a half-hearted passive-aggressive apology delivered to me while I was lying semi-comatose in hospital trying to find the energy to do anything other than stare at four walls. Joe visited almost every day. It wasn’t out of love for me, far from it. It was because the thought of me being in therapy, of spilling his sordid secrets, terrified him. I saw the fear on his face with each and every visit. I saw the silent pleading.
He needn’t have worried. Despite the gentle probing of my therapist, there was no way I was going to spill my deepest, darkest secrets to anyone. I was still too mired in shame, back then.
But standing outside of the kitchen now, hearing how damaging just one side of the narrative can be, I was starting to think it was time they all heard the whole truth, after all.
But I know that if I lose it now, it will only fuel their narrative that I’m crazy.
Stella is the first to spot me. Her face colours, knowing they have been caught out. She isn’t quite as obvious as to cough or make a dramatic change in conversation but she does say hello. Her smile is soft. Her eyes warm and welcoming. I like Stella. She seems to be a calming influence on Ciara and a nice person. It’s strange in this moment that she feels like the one ally I have in all of this.
‘Heidi,’ she says. ‘You’re here. Are you feeling okay?’
‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that,’ I say.
Alex is staring at me as if he has never seen me before, but he isn’t speaking. I try not to focus on him, because if I do, if I see how disappointed in me he is, I might just break.
‘It’s been a tough few days,’ Stella says and I nod.
The others in the room haven’t spoken yet. I wonder if they’ve even taken a breath. Bar the ticking of the big kitchen clock on the wall and the shuffle of the chair I pull out to sit on, the room is silent.
‘It has,’ I say. ‘And there have been a few unpleasant surprises.’
I glance at Ciara. She doesn’t react. Not even a little. There is no trace of surprise, of hurt, of anger or even denial in her expression.
Kathleen is first to speak. ‘I understand there has been a bit of a mix-up.’
I remind myself not to give in to my heightened emotions. ‘Yes, you could say that.’
‘Sweetheart,’ she says and I dig my nails in deeper.
I am not Kathleen McKee’s sweetheart and nor will I ever be.
‘So much gets muddled at these times. We’re all through ourselves with grief. I swear I don’t know myself these days. I keep thinking I hear him or see him …’
She starts to cry, which causes a flurry of activity. Hugs from Ciara, a tissue from Marie. Stella announcing she will put the kettle on.
Alex moves. ‘I think I hear Lily. I’ll go and get her.’
Lily isn’t crying. I know that. I spot the baby monitor on the counter – no echoing cries through it, no moving lights, but still I step back and let him pass me.
‘I think maybe we have some things to sort out,’ Ciara interjects. Her voice is soft, but the expression on her face is hard.
‘I don’t think this is the time or place,’ I say. ‘But yes, there are things to sort out. To finally deal with. There have been enough whispered conversations, don’t you think?’
‘I agree,’ she says.
The tension is palpable. I can see her stiffen.
Marie speaks. ‘I’m sorry if today was upsetting for you, Heidi. I’m guessing you feel there has been some sort of a mix-up regarding the grave.’
‘I don’t feel there was a mix-up. There was a mix-up. Factually. Joe was never meant to be buried with my mother.’
‘Perhaps we can resolve this, when we’re all feeling a little less emotional.’ Marie says. ‘There are bound to be things we can do if you find this very distressing. Perhaps we could have him moved to a new plot?’
Kathleen gasps. ‘Oh God, that would be unbearable. Today was hard enough.’
‘But it clearly means so much to Heidi and really, we must all think of Heidi, mustn’t we?’ Ciara says. ‘Some things never change. There isn’t a scene or a family occasion that Heidi can’t make all about her, even a family funeral.’
She’s waiting for me to bite. She is goading me. Everyone can see it and feel it, and I know that whatever I say or do next will have lasting consequences.
No good comes of speaking in a temper, though. She has painted me quite successfully as unhinged already. Displaying any sign that it could in fact be true would be a bad move. Especially now, when the police are more keen than ever to pin this on someone.
‘I think it’s best we just leave all this for today,’ I say. ‘Nothing good can come of it.’
With my face blazing, tears unshed and a deep sense of shame eating at me, I turn and walk to the door. When Alex arrives downstairs with Lily, I tell him we’re leaving. He doesn’t argue. He doesn’t speak at all, in fact. He just follows me out of the door and to the car.