‘That’s exactly what I’m saying!’ Toots weakly beat the table with her balled-up fists.
‘Toots,’ Jeannie admonished. ‘Let’s not get all worked up again.’
‘You!’ Toots pointed straight down the table at her daughter-in-law. ‘You put me in that home for speaking the truth. But people don’t just drop down dead. He was healthy, fit as a fiddle!’ She clutched at her pearls.
‘Grandma,’ Miles said softly, ‘Grandpa was ninety years old?—’
‘And? And? Just because you reach ninety doesn’t mean you just drop down dead!’
‘He had a short illness,’ Jeannie insisted.
‘Yes,’ she hissed ominously. ‘A brief illness that no doctor could explain. And then no autopsy, because according to them he was old and therefore must have died from natural causes. Well, I am no fool. I have had my suspicions. And now my George, and Tristan…’ Her breath rattled.
‘You must be careful, Mother,’ warned Fergus. ‘Your heart…’
Beebee now brazenly turned her phone’s camera around to scan each of our faces. As the little black eye fixed its gaze upon me, I shot the lens and her a scowl for being so obscene.
‘You were all here.’ Toots let her finger rove around us. ‘I know it was one of you. And I will get to the bottom of this, you mark my words.’
9
RIBBONS, RED HERRINGS AND REVENGE
Iflung back the heavy curtains in anticipation.Great. Still snowed in. A sea of powder-white glittered under the morning sun, the light stretched and pale through the bare trees. Miles propped himself up on his elbow, eyebrows raised in question. I shook my head.
‘Still at least four foot deep.’
‘Better get back in bed, then, where it’s nice and warm.’ He threw back the pristine white duvet and patted the empty space. I giggled, scurrying back into the gap he’d opened. He launched the covers back over me and wrapped me up as the warmth from his body heated mine.
I jumped out of my skin as the door burst open.
‘Mum!’ Martha exclaimed, barging in and letting the door slam behind her.
Miles and I untangled quickly and sat up.
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked, pulse hammering in my throat.
‘It’s Beebee…’ She came over to the bed and sat next to me, holding out her phone. A video was playing; it was Toots pointing an accusatory finger at all of us, then the camera panning around. There I was, cutting a stare straight down the lens.
‘Beebee’s video has gone viral on TikTok,’ Martha said breathlessly.
Sure enough, the likes underneath the heart displayed 122.5k.
‘It’s on its way to a million views, and it was only posted twelve hours ago.’
‘Well… What does it mean?’ asked Miles.
‘It doesn’t mean anything, Dad. Other than the fact Beebee and Ceecee are currently trending, and a bunch of armchair detectives are creating conspiracy theories about our family and which one of us is a potential murderer.
I felt my skin prickle. ‘Murderer? What?’
Martha scrolled through the comments, her eyes widening. ‘They’re saying that there’s no way that three deaths in the family at Christmas is a coincidence.’
Miles chuckled nervously. ‘This is just online nonsense. People feed off conspiracies these days.’
‘Look at this one,’ Martha said, pointing to a comment. ‘“The woman in the green sweater looks guilty AF. Bet she did it for the inheritance.”’ The video super-zoomed into the death stare I was levelling at Beebee, and I had to admit, I did look pretty psychotic.
‘It’s just nonsense,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘You know how the internet loves drama.’ The world seemed to move underneath me. The forum… How long before this hit the chat room? How long before my publisher saw that I was tangled up in some scandal?
