The Things You Didn't See(95)
I tried to grab the gun from you, and there was a struggle. The gun was in Daniel’s hand when it fired the fatal shot, knocking you into a coma from which you’d never wake. It was an accident. But who would believe that? He’d arrived at the house to confront you; he had a motive. He had to think quickly.
I was no good to him, I was still asleep, so he walked me back upstairs, stripped me of my bloody clothes and returned me to bed. Then he woke Dad, and told him I’d shot you in my sleep. Janet and Ash arrived and were told the same story, and they all agreed to say you’d attempted suicide. Everyone was willing to lie, to protect me.
But really, Mum, they were protecting Daniel. And now I’m protecting him too.
A buzzer sounds in the courtroom, and Rupert Jackson throws me a quick look, the barristers tug their wigs straight and everyone looks attentive. A wooden door swings open, and the twelve jurors enter in a long line. Some look at me, others definitely don’t.
Victoria leans over the balustrade and Daniel touches her arm, to pull her back. Dad nurses his bad hand and Ash says something. They’re my family – I will never question their love again.
The judge enters, looking for all the world as if he’s waiting for a doctor, or a bus. He’s weary, his life won’t be altered by whatever the jury has decided, it’s just another day at work for him. The black-cloaked usher collects a slip of paper from the foreman, hands it up to him. He reads it with a resignation that suggests the bus has been delayed and he’s not surprised. The foreman stands. He’s one of the few people in the courtroom who looks at me; he wants to be acknowledged. Whatever the piece of paper says, he had no doubts.
‘Members of the jury, have you reached your verdict?’
‘We have, Your Honour.’
‘And how do you find the defendant?’
The usher pauses, enjoying his moment of importance. Then, ‘Not guilty.’
I really am innocent after all. The person most responsible for your death, Mum, was you.
48
Holly
The drive towards Kenley looked the same as it had last November, though just before the turning for Innocence Lane, there was a new addition: a sign, six feet high, navy blue, with silver writing that announced SAMPHIRE HEALTH SPA. Holly took the turning, and felt the change. For a start, the stench of pigs was gone, and the hedges had been trimmed along the lane.
The entrance had been levelled and white gravel crunched beneath the car wheels. Parking spaces were indicated by the positioning of olive trees in terracotta pots, and Holly pulled her Fiat 500 to a stop. The other cars in the car park were a BMW and an Audi. The entrance was sentinelled by lit candles in hurricane lamps and the door was a blue to match the signage. Each of the windows was gleaming, and the whole atmosphere was luxurious and tranquil. Holly left her car, and walked towards the entrance. She noticed, in the corner of the porch, a CCTV camera.
The brass handle was huge, and she pushed the door open, stepping forward onto a carpet so deep it was like stepping into sand. The mahogany reception table had been restored to its former shining glory. On it stood an old-fashioned brass bell with a sign, PLEASE RING TO NOTIFY STAFF OF YOUR ARRIVAL. Holly ignored the instruction and walked along the hallway. To the left was the front room, where she’d sat with Cassandra, just hours after the shooting. Two women and a man in navy towelling robes sat on velvet sofas, sipping water and leafing through thick magazines. One woman looked up; Holly smiled and moved away.
Daniel was walking towards her. ‘Holly, so good to see you – welcome to Samphire!’ Presumably the camera had informed him of her arrival as she hadn’t pressed the buzzer. ‘Looks a bit different from when you were last here, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ agreed Holly, ‘much plusher.’ She hadn’t been here since the trial had concluded, even though Cass had sent her an invite for the opening weekend. ‘You’ve really transformed the place.’
‘Book a spa day, then you can experience it first-hand,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I’ll give you a Swedish massage, all on the house. We’re very grateful to you, Holly – some Samphire Master Magic is the least you deserve.’
Holly felt distinctly uncomfortable; she hoped it didn’t show. ‘How’s Cass?’
‘She’s grand: happy that we can move on with our lives. We’ll go and find her – she’s upstairs in the office.’
‘I’d like to see Hector too, if he’s around?’
‘Of course he is. The old boy never really leaves the grounds since losing Maya. Come on, we can go and see him first.’
She followed Daniel down the hallway, and through to what had once been the farmhouse kitchen but was now a conservatory with low beds, each with a throw folded on the end. ‘This is our sleep room,’ he whispered, gesturing to one bed, where a curled shape was covered by a white blanket, bar the top of a blonde head. Candles had been lit in lanterns around the room, and sage incense was burning. Quietly, Holly followed Daniel through what was once the back door, but was now a bifold window that led to an herb garden, with benches placed strategically for clients to sit and take in the ambience. They crossed the garden and Holly realised where they were heading.
‘The barn?’
‘It’s been converted, it’s where Hector lives now. Cass, Tori and I live in the main house.’