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The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can get back to him.”

“I’m going to get bail?”

“Not necessarily. Let’s just see how the interview pans out.”

I want to tell him to hurry. I take a huge gulp of my water. I really don’t want to be sick in front of these two police officers. I smell bad enough as it is.

“You were arrested at an address in Otley, the residence of Bryony Rose, at 6:20pm yesterday evening, for aggravated assault. What have you got to say about it?”

“I was really drunk.” I look down at my hands, which are trembling. “Usually I go to Alcoholics Anonymous, but my husband has died this week. Then I find out that he’s been seeing Bryony. I’ve also found out that he’s lost all our money and been lying to me about everything. I lost control. I couldn’t take anymore.”

“You’re saying that gave you a reason to go to her house, push her about and threaten her with a broken bottle?”

“Of course not. I barely remember doing it. I hadn’t eaten much, and I’d been drinking gin, vodka and wine after a year of not drinking at all.”

“I’m afraid that being drunk and out of control will not stand up as a defence in court.”

“I know. I can’t stand the woman, but I had no right to do that to her. I would never normally behave so dreadfully. I’m really sorry.”

“Well, your remorse is noted and might have a slight impact in terms of how you are viewed. Miss Rose is very shaken, but otherwise OK. We have already been in contact with the Crown Prosecution Service, which have authorised us to charge you with aggravated assault.”

“So what now?”

“It’s up to them whether you are granted bail. I have to say though, that because you’re already under investigation for causing death by dangerous driving, I think it’s unlikely.”

“But I haven’t been charged with anything there.”

He and his colleague look at each other. “Let’s just see what they say.”

“Please.” Tears leak from my eyes. “I need to get back to my son. I didn’t kill my husband. I was at home that morning. I loved my husband. I need help to find someone called James Turner.” I realise I’m gabbling, but they seem to be listening. They wait in silence as I take a gulp of water. “He’s the man you should speak to. He knows something. It’s all being pinned on me, and they’ve got it wrong. I’m a victim here too. This man has got all my money and I feel sure that he was involved in my husband’s death.”

“Let’s just allow the investigation to be carried out. I promise you that every relevant lead will be thoroughly investigated. DI Green is an experienced detective. If we charge you, then you will have every opportunity to build a defence and will get a fair hearing.”

“I have to say, though,” says the other one. “You’ve done yourself no favours with what you did last night.”

“I know.”

* * *

I’ve always recognised the anger and vengeance

that exists inside me.

I knew one day there was a risk I might act on it.

Chapter 28

I hurry along my street, hoping none of the neighbours are watching. They’ve all rallied around since Rob died – I’ll be so embarrassed if I’m seen. I’ve never looked, felt, or indeed smelt worse.

They gave me police bail. I’ve to return later with my passport and report to the station each week until my court appearance. I’ve got to sleep at home every night, though it’s not like I’m going to go anywhere else anyway. I’ve not to contact Bryony directly, or indirectly.

“Mummy! Where have you been?” Jack pokes his head around the lounge door as I step into the hallway.

“Just let me have a shower, honey, then I’ll come and see you.”

Dad emerges from the kitchen, disappointment all over his face.

“I’m sorry Dad.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what to say to you. Get yourself cleaned up. Then we’ll talk.” The look on his face is far worse than anything he could say to me.

“Did anyone let you know where I was?”

“Yes. Go in there, Jack. Grandad will be there in a minute.” When Jack has gone, he looks me up and down with an expression that makes me want to shrink down to nothing. “Thank God I was here, to look after your son, that’s all I can say. What would have happened to him otherwise?”

“I’ll be down shortly.” Fighting back tears, I take to the stairs, desperate to get away from Dad’s scrutiny.

A shower makes me feel more human and at least I don’t stink anymore. The clothes I was wearing can go in the bin. I never want to see them again. Reaching into the bedside cabinet, I swallow a migraine tablet, followed by an anti-emetic. Whilst being a non-drinker, I haven’t needed either of these. But today, I feel lousy, with no one to blame but myself. I fill a pint glass with water in the en-suite and down it, feeling slightly better straight away. I must have been dehydrated.

Even though it’s a warm June day, I feel cold, so pull on clean jeans and a jumper. I slide a pair of Rob’s socks over my feet and head downstairs to face Dad.

He’s clattering about in the kitchen and the strains of Phineas and Ferb, which Jack is hooked on, echo from the lounge. Dad glances over his glasses at me, as I sit at the breakfast bar and pluck an apple from the bowl.

“Tea?” he says. He can’t be that mad if he’s offering me a brew.

“Please.” The tablets I’ve taken are starting to have an effect, thank God. I can say, hand on heart, that I would rather die than touch an alcoholic drink at this moment. I’m going to ask the doctor for some Antabuse tablets to ensure I keep completely away from it. For good.

“So why, Fiona?

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