The Best of Friends by Alex Day (accelerated reader books .txt) 📕

abundance. She had been concealed behind rampant tangles of brambles and, intent on her task, she had not called out to you. She had been surprised when you emerged only five minutes later but assumed you’d just dropped by on a whim and that I was out and therefore hadn’t answered your knock.

Even after all this, once we get back into court, your defence team still tries to pin it on me.

‘Mrs Hegarty, you are maintaining that, unbeknownst to you, Ms Carr entered your house, your kitchen, and put hemlock in the curry that you had already tasted. Do you really expect us to believe that she could have done this without you noticing, in the few minutes she had available to her? Those minutes that we know numbered no more than five as we have Miss Whitehead’s testimony on this.’

I can see how it looks. A massive coincidence that in those five minutes, I was not in the kitchen or anywhere in the vicinity. But that’s life, isn’t it? Full of sliding doors moments – if this hadn’t happened, then the next thing wouldn’t have done and so on.

‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘Susannah knew that when she dropped off the curry I still hadn’t showered or done my hair. So she would have known that I would go off and do this at some point. And she also knew I wasn’t my normal self, that I was all over the place. She took a lucky chance that I’d be elsewhere and it paid off. But she would have been able to see into the kitchen from outside and I suppose that, if she’d spotted that I was still in there, she’d just have gone away again and come back later. She didn’t imagine that anyone would see her, so it wouldn’t matter if she had to give it more than one try.’

‘So we are supposed to believe, are we Mrs Hegarty, that in that grand house of yours, the biggest in the village, the manor no less, full of artworks and jewellery of considerable value and interest to thieves, you have no security devices against intruders? No alarms? No CCTV?’

The barrister flashes a conceited smile at the jury, as if to say, look at me, aren’t I the bee’s knees? Honestly, I thought having a woman against me would make it easier but actually I think they’re worse than the men. Just as cocky and egotistical as the male of the species and utterly lacking in female solidarity.

‘It may seem strange,’ I respond, with complete equanimity, ‘but you’re right. We do have a burglar alarm but it’s only used when the house is completely empty, which isn’t very often with …’ I falter slightly as I realise that what I was going to say, ‘with two live-in staff members, the housekeeper and the au pair we normally have’ will not go down well with the twelve good men (and women) on the benches facing me. The last thing I need is for them to see me as a stuck-up rich bitch. ‘With such a large family,’ I resume, almost faultlessly, ending with a sweet, sad smile. ‘We have never wanted our boys, our precious children, to feel like they’re living in a fortress,’ I continue, ‘so we don’t have CCTV. The fact of the matter is that there was nothing to stop Susannah walking right on in – and she knew it.’

Touché. I’ve done it. I’ve made us look humble and ordinary, no different, really, to any of the jury.

The barrister waffles on for a while, asking spurious questions that I easily bat back. When her questioning finishes, I allow myself a small, self-congratulatory smile. I think it went well.

Under cross-examination, Miriam helps out no end. She confirms that you were wearing your red trench coat. Not the obvious choice when slinking around trying to go unnoticed but, on the other hand, if you hadn’t worn a coat at all it would have been odder. It was cold that day, rainy, the impending storm hanging heavy in the air. And everyone is used to seeing you in that scarlet garment – you might have drawn more attention without it.

Forensic tests add the final touch to the evidence. The right coat pocket, where it might be expected that a right-handed person would put things, bears traces of hemlock. Minuscule ones, but there nevertheless.

Incontrovertibly there.

Chapter 49

Susannah

Whilst the lawyers speak, we are only a few feet away from each other, Charlotte and I. We steadfastly ignore each other’s gaze. The trial seems to last forever. My side has made a point of my good character, just as was the case all those years ago, my impeccable upbringing, my (mainly) private school education, my respectable position in society, my inherent decency … They lay it on thick as treacle on a stack of pancakes.

Charlotte’s side, on the other hand, has made a bad character application. There’s an audible gasp when the details are put in front of the court.

That I have history. That I have form.

That I am a poisoner.

I’m hung out to dry, tarnished by a past that, to me, seems to belong to someone else. Unfortunately though, it is mine – and I can’t escape it.

Eventually, it’s time for the summing up. Nervously, I clasp my hands together and listen as if in a trance, unable to connect to reality, my heart filled with a bitter, leaden dread.

‘You poisoned Mr Hegarty because of your jealousy, hatred, and anger,’ the prosecuting QC says, addressing the jurors, who are listening expectantly, eyes wide open, following his every gesture as he makes his statement. ‘Over a sustained period of time, you did everything you could to try to win his heart, and to sour his relationship with his wife. You did this because you wanted him. His charm, his good looks, but above all his wealth, were things you coveted for yourself. But, though you seduced him and slept with him whilst Mrs