Luckily, his lawyer had it all thrown out of court in the end. We found experts of our own; they said Daniel’s and Rory’s homes were too close for the masts to say with any real accuracy that Rory had had the phone at his house. But still, the police insisted. Even that detective, Carter, the one who saved Katie’s life, wasn’t entirely supportive. He kept asking awkward questions, making out like it couldn’t have just been Daniel, that there must have been someone else involved.
Katie keeps going on at me, saying we should listen to him, and what if he’s right. We have nearly fallen out over it, once or twice. I don’t know if Katie is still talking to him, even now. I hope she isn’t. I wish she would just lay it to rest, that both of them would lay it to rest, like I have tried to.
Serena left Rory before it even came to trial. Neither she nor Rory came to see Daniel in court. Only me. Amazingly, Rory and Lisa are still together. They have moved to somewhere in the West Country. I keep saying I’ll go and see them, but it seems so far. And it is difficult, being on my own.
Serena, meanwhile, has moved abroad with her little baby, Sienna. A little girl, the same age as Leo. My niece. I’ve never even seen a photograph. Rory doesn’t like to talk about her. It must break his heart. But she has washed her hands of me, of Rory, of all of us. If I’m honest, I would have liked an explanation, about her and Daniel. I know it was years ago, but it still hurt. Then again, after everything that’s happened, who could blame her for cutting ties, for moving far, far away?
‘I don’t know though,’ Katie is musing, stirring her mug of tea. ‘Could the note you found at Rory’s really have been from Lisa? If Lisa was W, why would Rachel have had it? How would she have got hold of it? And why would Rory call Lisa “W”？’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe they weren’t even love notes. They were probably – I don’t know … a figment of my imagination.’ Not to mention all the other weird stuff I thought I saw.
She looks at me, shakes her head. ‘Helen, I can’t believe you are still letting him do this.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Daniel! He was always encouraging you to think you were stupid, or that you were losing it. You weren’t. You lost your parents and had four miscarriages. You were very, very sad, as anyone would be. You were not crazy.’
This is her latest theme – that I’m a victim, just like Rachel. Except Rachel is the one who was raped, robbed of justice, and who ended up dead. Not me.
‘I’m just saying. If you saw those things, you saw them.’
I sigh, put my hand on hers. The hand that was bandaged for months, after that day. Sometimes I struggle to believe it really all happened. To think about her, clinging to the drain hooks. To think about what might have been, if DCI Carter hadn’t worked out that Katie would head to Daniel’s house. If he hadn’t got in his car, turned up there when he did. Got his police contacts to find him the address as he drove. Found Katie’s car outside. Rung once, then again. Then smashed our door down.
‘But the thing is, I really wasn’t thinking straight, back then. I see that now. I mean, I think I knew something was going on. But I didn’t know what. So I came up with these mad theories.’
‘I still think there’s stuff that doesn’t add up. So does Mark. I know you won’t hear a word against Serena. But he says there’s no way that Daniel could have –’
‘Oh, Katie, I know that DCI Carter means well. But please. Enough.’
She sighs, folds her arms. I gaze past her, out of the window. The rain is easing off, a cool sunlight reappearing behind the trees.
‘Look,’ I say, giving her hand a squeeze, ‘it’s all over now. Why dwell on the past?’
I step behind her and throw the doors open, let the smell of the rain pour in. I’ll cut the garden back tomorrow, I think. Maybe I’ll plant some flowers, water them with Leo, like Mummy and I used to do.
And then I take Daniel’s letter, tear it up and throw it into the recycling.
SERENA
‘Careful, darling,’ I call to Sienna. She is striding straight into the water. Walking, at less than ten months. And utterly fearless. Just like me. Her nanny hovers next to her, in case she falls. I watch them both in the shallow turquoise water, the strands of light playing on the backs of their bare legs.
I lean back on my lounger, sip my White Russian. I should leave soon, really. Start making plans. But every time I think about it, I feel the fine pale sand between the creases of my toes, the stars overhead, the swaying palm trees. I can stay here a little longer, I think.