The girls were removed from the school the next day to be sent off to different industrial schools on the mainland. All except Martha, whose aunt had decided that she would care for the girl herself. When I told the police that I had heard Miss Grayson and Cassie arguing, they seemed ready enough to believe that Cassie may have pushed the schoolmistress down the stairs and then killed herself in a fit of remorse. There was no proof, however, and since both parties were dead they decided to rule both deaths as accidents. The Dunvegan School for Girls was to be closed, they said. Hannah and Mrs String had been told not to return. Henry and I would have to find positions elsewhere but, of course, we had never had any intention of staying.
“It’s for the best, Mim,” Henry said later that afternoon, once the police had gone. “We just need to start over.”
That night, all alone in the school, I didn’t sleep. I kept thinking I could hear the girls running up and down the stairs. The Frozen Charlottes, which I had collected after the police left, giggled and whispered together in their basket. And I lay there in the dark replaying what had happened, what I had done, over and over again in my mind. The doubt began to creep in. And the guilt. The horror of it.
“I’m a monster,” I whispered.
“Monstrous,” the dolls whispered back. “What fun it is to be monstrous…”
Finally, towards dawn, I made a decision and got out of bed. I sat down at the desk and wrote a letter to Henry. In it, I detailed every last thing I’d done. I told the truth about what had happened to Edward Redwing, as well as the events of yesterday. I held nothing back. My dark soul was laid bare. He deserved to know the truth. He was good and pure and decent, and all the things I wasn’t.
When I was done, I put the letter into a sealed envelope and wrote Henry’s name on the front. Then I told the Frozen Charlottes we were going to play a game and I took them down to the basement, along with the tub of plaster from the supply cupboard.
The dolls tittered and fussed as I plastered them into the wall.
“What are you doing, Mother?”
“Is this a new game?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s the new game I mentioned earlier, remember? Just you wait until you find out what it is. You’ll love it.”
The dolls seemed content with this and giggled to themselves as I imprisoned them in the walls of the school.
“You have to stay here and wait for me to come back,” I said. “Then I’ll explain the rules.”
“Why can’t you tell us now, Mother?” one of the dolls cried petulantly as I smoothed another layer of plaster over its hateful little face.
“Because,” I whispered, “it’s going to be a surprise.”
“Oh, we love surprises!”
“Yes,” I replied. “I thought you might.”
I had to believe it was the dolls’ influence that had made me do the things I had done. Such wickedness surely could not have come from me.
The sun had risen by the time I was finally finished.
“Wait for me here,” I said. “I’ll be back to explain the game later.”
The only answer was silence.
“Hello?” I tried again.
But there was nothing. Perhaps they couldn’t hear me beneath their thick coat of plaster. Or perhaps they could hear me but couldn’t make themselves heard back. Satisfied with my handiwork, I turned and walked from the room. Then, before I could lose my nerve, I collected the letter, put on my cloak and went down to Henry’s cottage. He looked like he hadn’t slept, either.
“Let’s go for a walk,” I said.
He fetched his coat, and Murphy came hopping out, all excited. We walked along the clifftop. Henry took my hand in his and I revelled in the touch of his warm fingers. I tried to commit the feeling to memory so that it might comfort me in the lonely days to come.
Finally we reached Neist Point and stopped to look at the view. It was now or never.
“Henry, there’s something I must tell you,” I said. Forcing out the words was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. “There’s something you need to know. And, once you do, you won’t want to marry me any more. You’ll never want to see me again.” I held out the letter. “It’s all in here. Every last secret.”
Every last sin…
Henry took the letter from me and gazed down at it before opening his fingers. The letter was immediately plucked from him and went sailing over the edge of the cliff, dancing in the air for a moment before it was sucked down towards the sea and lost in the foam and froth.
“Don’t ever tell me,” he said in a quiet voice, gazing out towards the water. “I don’t want to know, Mim.” He looked at me, then wrapped his fingers round mine and said, “What’s done is done. I love you. We’re meant to be together. That’s all I need to know.”
I hesitated. I could blurt out the truth to him right here and now. I could force him to listen as I explained that I had murdered two people and that some small part of me worried that I might kill again one day.
It’s such fun to play the murder game!
I shuddered as a doll’s voice rang out in my mind, as clearly as if there was a Frozen Charlotte in my pocket. Even if the dolls had influenced me, I had enjoyed it, just the tiniest little bit. And that was the most sickening shame of all. To tell Henry the truth would have been the decent thing to do. But I also wanted to put all my suffering behind me.
“Are you sure?” I said softly.
Henry’s fingers tightened slightly round mine. “I am,” he said. “Whatever it is, let’s just bury it. We’re so close to escaping, Mim. Please don’t let anything spoil it now. Please.”
“All right,” I heard myself say. “If that’s really what you want.”
Henry’s eyes were serious. “We won’t ever talk of this again,” he said. “We’ll leave this place and never look back.”