52

After the windowless interior of the police custody suite, the early morning light stings my eyes. My shoulders are stiff, and my back is so sore they may as well not have bothered with the wafer-thin plastic mattress they gave me to put on the concrete block they called a bed in my cell.

I’ve been charged with GBH and bailed to appear in front of the magistrates in three weeks’ time. One of the conditions of bail is that I’m not allowed within a mile of Pascoe’s home and I’m not to approach him or Jackie. It’s hardly my finest hour. As I leave the station, a dozen eyes drill into the back of my head. Turns out that CSI Ally Dymond is no better than the murder detective she called out for corruption in an open court.

I get clear of the building and rummage around in my bag for my phone. A needle of pain threads my temples together, blurring my vision, but there’s only one thing on my mind: Megan. I haven’t seen her in nearly twenty-four hours. Holt promised me I’d be the first to know if anything happened to her while I was in custody. I believe him. For all his incompetency, he’s human like the rest of us.

When I switch my phone on, I am bombarded with messages: a text from Liam, several from Bernadette and a dozen missed calls and voicemail messages from Penny. I ignore them all. All I want to do is see how my girl is. Please, God, let nothing have happened to her while I’ve been holed up in the police station.

I dial the hospital and Wendy, one of the nurses, answers.

She tells me that Megan has had a very restful night, and all is good. I don’t believe in God, but I thank him anyway.

Forty-five minutes later, Wendy clocks me through the glass in the entrance door to the ward and buzzes me in.

‘Your mum was here a moment ago. I think she just popped out for a coffee.’

Good, Megan is alone.

‘Thank you.’

I take my seat next to Megan’s bed. Her mouth is still slack around the breathing tube, but her bruises are yellowing and I’m sure there’s a pinkness to her complexion that wasn’t there before, like life is slowly restoring itself. She’s coming back to me. It feels fitting to begin with an apology.

‘Meggy, I’m so sorry I haven’t been around as much as I should have been. I’ve been somewhere else, trying to make things right.’ This sounds vague, but what else can I say? I’ve tracked down your attacker, but he’s beaten up his wife with a spanner he stole from the cabin and framed me and now I’m facing a custodial sentence? ‘The nurses tell me that you’re doing really well, though. It’s only a matter of time now until you’ll be fully awake. Liam has asked if he can come and see you when you’re a bit better. I’m sure your other friends will want to see you too. I miss you so much, Megan. The cabin isn’t the same without you. I’m not the same without you…’ I pause. ‘But there’s still a few things I need to sort out.’

Movement catches my eye. Through the glass window onto Megan’s room, Bernadette has returned with her coffee and is talking to Wendy. It’s time for me to go. I kiss Megan’s smooth forehead.

‘Everything will be all right, Meggy. I promise. I love you.’

By the time I’m in the corridor, Wendy has told Bernadette of my arrival and she’s ready for me, armed to the teeth with judgement.

‘What, for the love of God, do you think you’re doing here?’ Invoking the Lord’s name – that’s strong even for Bernadette.

‘I’ve come to be with Megan, of course.’

‘I think it’s a bit late for that, don’t you?’

Wendy shifts awkwardly, but stays where she is, sensing she may have to call upon her intermediary skills.

‘What are you talking about?’ I reply in a way that suggests Bernadette’s statement is as laughable as it sounds.

‘We know you spent the night in a police cell. The detective phoned Penny just before I got here. What on earth possessed you to attack a poor defenceless woman?’

Wendy doesn’t even attempt to hide her alarm at this news, but I’m disappointed Bernadette has accepted Holt’s version without question.

‘I didn’t attack anybody, not that I have to justify myself to you.’

Bernadette presses her lips together. She clearly thinks she’s exactly the person I need to justify myself to.

‘The detective told us you’re likely to go to prison for what you did.’

The horror and shame of it forces her words into a whisper, but I’ve nothing to hide.

‘I’m not guilty. The courts will see that.’

‘And if they don’t? The detective seemed to think it was a foregone conclusion.’

‘It’s not, but he’s right. If I’m convicted, there is a chance that I could go to jail for this, even though I didn’t do it, and I need to think about what that means for Megan. Who will take care of her?’

‘Well, Penny will have her, obviously.’

‘No. She won’t. Penny has told me that we have to leave Seven Hills. She’s made her position clear. Penny won’t have Megan.’

‘Oh.’

I lay my hand on Bernadette’s upper arm and she’s right to stare at it suspiciously. ‘Mum, if the worst comes to the worst, would you take Megan?’

‘What?

‘As her grandmother, you’re her nearest living relative. Will you have her?’

She steps away from me and my hand drops to my side.

‘No, I can’t do that. Megan is your responsibility.’

‘I know that, but if I’m in jail I can’t look after her, can I? That’s why I’m asking you. It wouldn’t be for long.’

‘No. No. Absolutely not. You’re not going to push your problems onto me.’

‘Megan isn’t a problem. She’s your granddaughter.’

‘No, Aloysia, I can’t have Megan. You’ll have to find someone else.’

‘There is no one else.’

Bernadette says nothing for a while. Finally, she puts her coffee down on the reception desk and takes my hands in hers.

‘Aloysia, I’m seventy-eight years old,’ she says quietly. ‘I love Megan dearly, you know that, and please believe me when I say I would help you if I could, but I’m not capable of looking after her. I can’t give her what you give her.’

The amount of pride Bernadette has had to swallow to admit this doesn’t escape me. Too bad. I reclaim my hands.

‘You’re refusing to help me then? Just like you refused to help me when I got pregnant and when I told you Sean had beaten the living daylights out of me.’

Aware the stakes have just been upped, Wendy takes a sharp breath. Bernadette’s face hardens. She wasn’t expecting her honesty to be rebuffed, but she’s quick to return to her default defensive position.

‘Oh, Aloysia, you always have to be so dramatic about everything.’

‘There’s nothing dramatic about being hit by your so-called husband.’

She rolls her eyes.

‘Come on now, Ally. It wasn’t that bad.’

‘You’ve no idea, have you? You sit in your big house on the big hill casting judgement on everyone else, but you don’t have a clue. Well, I’m sick of you sniping from the sidelines, telling me where I’m going wrong and then, when I ask for help, running a mile.’ I pause. ‘You’ve never stopped punishing me for having Megan at nineteen, have you?’

‘Because you had everything and you threw it away,’ she roars back at me, the coffee cup trembling in her hand.

Wendy decides it’s time to intervene.

‘OK, I think we all need to calm down.’

But Bernadette is in full flight mode. ‘I would have given my eye teeth to have had the opportunities you had. You could have done anything with your life, but you threw it all away by sleeping with the first person who asked you. So, yes, as far as I’m concerned, you made your bed so you can lie in it.’

Her volume increases enough for another nurse to poke her head out of another room. Wendy shakes her head at her as a warning not to get involved. I allow a few seconds to pass to diffuse the situation. I don’t want Wendy calling security.

‘Look, be angry with me, that’s OK, I understand, but don’t take it out on Megan. She’ll need you more than ever if I have to go away.’

Bernadette shakes her head.

‘Maybe you should have thought about that before.’

We’ve reached attrition. I give up.

‘OK. Well, if you won’t take Megan, there’s only one thing I can do.’

Taking my phone from my pocket, I dial a number I never thought I’d ever have to call again in my life. He answers immediately.

‘Sean, it’s Ally.’ Bernadette frowns. ‘It’s about the letter you sent me asking for custody of Megan. We need to talk. Meet me at 11 a.m. tomorrow. Don’t come to the cabin. I’ll meet you at… Brandy Cove.’

I ring off and stay silent, giving Bernadette the chance to roll back on her refusal to help. She doesn’t.

‘Maybe that’s the best thing for her,’ she says coolly.

‘Really? You honestly believe Sean is the best person to look after Megan?’

She gives a little shrug. We have nothing more to say to each other. I can’t be here any more.

‘Wendy, I need to leave. Can you call me if there’s any change in Megan and I’ll come straight back?’

‘Yes, yes, of course. I’ll stay with her.’

‘You’re leaving.’

But Bernadette’s voice is flat and featureless. She knows she’s gone too far, that maybe, this time, our relationship is unrecoverable, that it is her that I’m leaving. For good.

‘I have to, and you should spend as much time as possible with Megan because once she goes to live with Sean you won’t see her. He won’t let you. I can guarantee you that.’

‘Wait. What do you—?’

But I’m already walking away.