John-Paul had wanted to stay home today. ‘I don’t want to leave you alone to deal with this,’ he’d said. ‘I won’t go into the office at all. We can talk. We can keep talking.’

Cecilia could think of nothing worse than more talking. She’d insisted that he go in to work, virtually pushing him out the door. She needed to be away from him. She needed to think. He’d been calling all morning, leaving frantic-sounding messages. Was he worried she was going to tell the police what she knew?

‘John-Paul has a good work ethic,’ she told her mother-in-law, as she made tea. Imagine if you knew what your precious son did. Just imagine.

She felt Virginia’s eyes shrewdly assessing her. She was no fool, Virginia. That was the mistake Cecilia’s sisters-in-law made. They underestimated the enemy.

‘You don’t look very well,’ said Virginia. ‘You’re washed out. Probably exhausted are you? You take on far too much. I hear you did a party last night. I was chatting to Marla Evans at tai chi and she said it was a great success. Everyone got tipsy apparently. She mentioned that you drove Rachel Crowley home.’

‘Rachel is very nice,’ said Cecilia. She put Virginia’s tea in front of her, along with a selection of baked treats. (Virginia’s weakness. It helped give Cecilia the edge.) Could she talk about her without feeling nauseous? ‘I actually asked her to Polly’s pirate party next weekend.’

Which is just wonderful.

‘Did you?’ said Virginia. There was a pause. ‘Does John-Paul know that?’

‘Yes,’ said Cecilia. ‘He does actually.’ It was an odd question for Virginia to ask. She knew perfectly well that John-Paul didn’t get involved in the planning of birthday parties. She put the milk back in the fridge and turned around to look at Virginia.

‘Why do you ask?’

Virginia helped herself to the coconut lemon slice. ‘He didn’t mind?’

‘Why should he mind?’ Cecilia carefully pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. She felt like someone was pushing their thumb right through the centre of her forehead, as if her head was made of dough. Her eyes met Virginia’s. She had John-Paul’s eyes. She’d been a beauty once and had never forgiven one of her hapless daughters-in-law for not recognising her in a photo hanging in the family room.

Virginia looked away first. ‘I just thought he might prefer not to have too many ring-ins at his daughter’s party.’ Her voice was off-key. She took a bite of the slice and chewed it awkwardly, as if she was only pretending to chew.

She knows. The thought dropped straight into Cecilia’s head with a thud.

John-Paul said nobody knew. He was adamant that nobody knew.

They were silent for a few moments. Cecilia heard the refrigerator hum. She felt her heart race. Virginia couldn’t know, could she? She swallowed: a sudden involuntary gulp for air.

‘I talked to Rachel about her daughter,’ said Cecilia. She sounded breathless. ‘About Janie. On the way home.’ She paused, took a breath to calm herself. Virginia had put down the slice and was scrabbling for something in her handbag. ‘Do you remember much about – when it happened?’

‘I remember it very well,’ said Virginia. She pulled a tissue from her bag and blew her nose. ‘The papers loved it. They had pages and pages of photos. They even showed a photo of the –’ She crumpled the tissue in her hand and cleared her throat. ‘The rosary beads. The crucifix was made of mother-of-pearl.’

The rosary beads. John-Paul had said that his mother had lent him her rosary beads because he had an exam that day. She must have recognised them and never said a word, never asked the question so she’d never need to hear the answer, but she knew. She absolutely knew. Cecilia felt a clammy shivery sensation creeping up her legs, like the start of the flu.

‘But that was all such a very long time ago,’ said Virginia.

‘Yes. Although it must be so distressing for Rachel,’ said Cecilia. ‘Not knowing. Not knowing what happened.’

Their eyes locked across the table. This time Virginia didn’t look away. Cecilia could see tiny particles of orange face powder embedded in the drawstring of wrinkles around Virginia’s mouth. Outside the house she could hear the soft midweek sounds of her neighbourhood: the chatter of cockatoos, the twitter of sparrows, the far-off buzz of someone’s leaf blower, the slam of a car door.

‘Although it wouldn’t really change anything, would it? It wouldn’t bring Janie back.’ Virginia patted Cecilia’s arm. ‘You’ve got enough on your mind without worrying about that. Your family comes first. Your husband and your daughters. They come first.’

‘Yes, of course,’ began Cecilia and stopped abruptly. The message was loud and clear. The taint of sin was all through her house. It smelled like sesame oil.

Virginia smiled sweetly and picked up the coconut lemon slice again between her fingertips. ‘I don’t need to tell you this, do I? You’re a mother. You’d do anything for your children, just like I’d do anything for mine.’

Chapter twenty-seven

The school day was nearly over and Rachel was busy typing up the school newsletter, her fingers moving rapidly over the keyboard. Sushi is now available at the tuckshop. Healthy and yummy! More volunteers are needed to cover library books. Don’t forget the ‘Eggscellent’ Easter Bonnet Parade tomorrow! Connor Whitby has been charged with the murder of Rachel Crowley’s daughter. Hooray! Our warmest wishes to Rachel. Applications now open for the position of PE teacher.




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