‘He’s been fantastic.’ Terrified that she was about to cry, Kate said, ‘He was overweight before.

We’ve put him on a diet, taken him for loads of walks – his breathing’s so much better now. We-we’re going to miss him d-dreadfully.’

‘Really?’ Barbara looked incredulously across at Norris. ‘Well, that’s marvellous news! Maybe you’ll end up gettingone of your own. OK, let’s get a move on, Bernard’s expecting us back.’ Since no one was showing her photos the degree of interest she felt they deserved, Barbara gathered them together and slid them back into their packets. ‘Norris, come along, we’re going home.’

Kate gazed beseechingly at her mother. Estelle, clearly distraught, could only shake her head. With a quizzical look at Barbara, Norris rose obediently to his feet.

‘Say thank you very much for looking after me,’ Barbara prompted, causing Norris to wag his tail in a bemused fashion.

‘If you wanted him to stay here, we’d love to keep him,’ Kate blurted out, causing Barbara to look at her even more oddly.

‘But he’s ours, dear. Not yours. Right, off we go.’

Crouching down, Kate put her arms round Norris and felt him rest his paws on her knees. Oh God, how could she ever have thought him ugly? Hot tears dripped down her chin as she kissed the top of his broad head. In return, Norris licked her wrist. It was hard trying to say a meaningful goodbye to someone who didn’t understand what was going on.

‘Bye, Norris,’ mumbled Kate as Barbara clapped her hands.

‘Right, let’s get a wiggle on! Say goodbye to Estelle now,’ Barbara ordered bossily.

Unable to watch Norris leaving the house for good, Kate stumbled to her feet and left the kitchen.

It was time to go to work, for all the good she’d be. No more Norris, it just didn’t bear thinking about.

‘Estelle! I forgot to tell you about our visit to the crocodile farm,’ she heard Barbara trill behind her.

Bloody Barbara Kendall, thought Kate, how she’d love to feed her to the crocodiles.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, feeling as if her heart had just been squeezed by a giant fist, Kate slammed out of the house.

Marcella couldn’t quite believe she was here at Dartington House nursing home, in the same room as Pauline McKinnon. She especially couldn’t grasp what she was hearing.

Feeling light-headed but far too agitated to sit down, Marcella stared at the wizened, yellow-tinged face of Den McKinnon’s mother.

‘I don’t believe you,’ she said flatly. ‘It’s not true. No mother would ask her son to take the blame for something like that.’

‘I did.’ Pauline McKinnon plucked at the pale blue bedspread.

‘I think you’re just lying to protect him. You don’t have long left to live, so you’re trying to persuade me he was innocent all along.’

‘Why would I? I didn’t want to tell you the truth. I’m only doing it now to prove to Den how sorry I am.’

Marcella took a deep breath. Pauline McKinnon didn’t sound as if she were lying. And if Den had spent the last nine years in Australia, why would he need his mother to make up a story like this?

‘Is this to do with Kerr?’ Marcella was still struggling to take it in. Was this his idea? Does he think I’ll change my mind about him and Maddy?’

‘Maddy who? Your daughter?’ Bemused, Pauline McKinnon said, ‘What’s she got to do with Kerr?’

This time it was blindingly obvious that she had no idea what Marcella was talking about.

‘How did Kerr feel about seeing his brother go to prison for something he didn’t do?’ Marcella was having trouble keeping her voice steady.’He didn’t know. He only found out this week.’

‘Does he despise you?’ said Marcella.

‘He hasn’t said so,’ Pauline McKinnon shrugged, ‘but I’m sure he does. Same as Den. I don’t blame them,’ she added. ‘I despise myself.’

‘You were drunk. You killed our daughter.’ Marcella’s voice began to rise, because she had no doubt now that Pauline McKinnon was telling the truth. ‘You forced your own son to take the blame.’

‘And I’ve suffered every single day since then.’

‘ Good,’ Marcella hissed, her eyes blazing. ‘You don’t know how happy that makes me. I hope you rot in hell for what you’ve done to us and to him.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘And it’s taken you eleven years to say that!’

‘I was going to, I swear I was.’ Pauline McKinnon swallowed with difficulty. ‘Before the trial, we weren’t allowed to. Afterwards, Kerr came over to your cottage one day and tried to apologise. You were out. Your husband was there but he didn’t want to hear it. He refused to listen and yelled at Kerr to leave. After a reaction like that, how could I risk trying to do the same? I couldn’t face either of you.

You hated us enough as it was, without even knowing what I’d really done. It was easier to blot it all out,’

she concluded wearily, ‘and have another drink instead.’

‘Look at me,’ Marcella ordered, because Pauline McKinnon was avoiding her eyes. ‘Can you understand how much we loved April?’

Forcing her head up, Pauline nodded without speaking.

‘Actually, I don’t suppose you can,’ Marcella’s voice was cold, ‘but let me tell you this anyway.

She was every bit as precious to us as our other children. I would give everything I own for the chance to hold her again. The fact that April had cerebral palsy wasn’t her fault and didn’t make an ounce of difference to how we felt about her. Yet you seemed to think we had no right to be distraught because it wasn’t as if she was normal.’

‘ I didn’t say that,’ croaked Pauline McKinnon. ‘I swear.’

‘We were told you’d said it.’ Marcella was defiant.

‘Outside the court? I remember. I heard someone else saying those words, but it wasn’t me.

I’ve been truthful with you all afternoon,’ Pauline went on. ‘After everything else, why would I bother to start lying to you now? With a bit of luck by the end of next week I’ll be dead. What’s the matter with you, anyway?’ Her clouded eyes had dropped to Marcella’s front. Marcella realised that without even being aware of it, she had been gently rubbing her stomach.

‘Nothing.’ It was the truth; there was no pain or discomfort. Her family would have a fit if they knew she’d run the risk of coming here today to confront Pauline McKinnon but she had come through it without mishap. Some inner instinct reassured Marcella that her baby was just fine.

‘I’m tired,’ said Pauline McKinnon tetchily.

‘I’m not going to forgive you, if that’s why you wanted to see me.’

‘I didn’t want to see you. This was all Den’s idea, not mine.’

Marcella looked at her, experiencing a mixture of hatred, revulsion and disgust. And pity, too. But not for Pauline McKinnon.

As she turned to leave the room, Marcella said, ‘My daughter, April, was worth five hundred of you.’

Chapter 58

Outside, Marcella took lungfuls of much-needed fresh air. A warm dry breeze rippled the front of her loose, dark blue shirt. The manicured grounds were deserted apart from a solitary figure sitting on a bench some distance away, beneath a spreading cedar tree. From here it was impossible to tell whether the figure was male or female; all Marcella could make out was longish dark hair, sunglasses, a white shirt and faded jeans.

But she knew at once who it was. Without hesitating, she descended the stone steps and made her way across the freshly mown grass.

He took off his dark glasses as she approached and Marcella saw the eleven years of strain etched on his face. Here was someone who had suffered almost as much as she had. It beggared belief that any son could have a mother like that.

Her heart went out to him. She had spent all these years blaming him for something he hadn’t done.

He may be a McKinnon, but he was innocent.

‘ Do you believe her?’ Den searched her face, his voice taut with uncertainty.

Nodding, Marcella said, ‘I do.’

‘It’s the truth.’ Den nodded too and she saw that he was shaking. ‘I didn’t do it. It wasn’t me, I swear.’

Marcella held out her arms and drew him to her, making soothing noises and patting his back as he sobbed on her shoulder like a small boy.

‘God, I can’t believe it. I haven’t cried for years,’ Den said finally, using his sleeve to wipe his eyes.

‘Not since I came out of prison.’

‘You’ve been bottling it up. Don’t worry.’ Marcella stroked his face. ‘It’s all over now.’

‘I didn’t know she was drunk, that’s the stupidest thing.’ Den cleared his throat, determined to say it. ‘I could have driven that day. If she had only let me drive, it would never have happened. But she didn’t want me to know how much she’d had to drink, so she made out she was fine. I should have taken the keys off her—’

‘Sshh, stop it.’ Her earlier words to Den’s mother came back to Marcella now: it hadn’t been April’s fault she was born handicapped. Well, it wasn’t Den’s fault either that he had been handicapped by the fact that Pauline McKinnon was his mother.

Marcella briefly closed her eyes, remembering those dark, desperate days after the accident. Her grief had been so overwhelming that directing her hatred at only one person hadn’t been enough, she’d needed to encompass the whole family. And that had been wrong, she could see that now.

‘Is this what I think it is?’ Being hugged by Marcella had brought the curvature of her stomach to Den’s attention. Pulling away, he gazed down at the small bump.

‘Always one of those embarrassing moments,’ said Marcella, ‘when you really hope I’m not just fat.

And no,’ she went on, ‘I’m not just fat.’