‘That you shouted, tried to grab me, and it was only then that I stumbled.’
‘Meaning I tried to help you, but I made it worse? Oh God, that’s a terrible thought,’ I say, and raise my eyebrows as sympathetically as possible.
‘Yes, but that’s not even the most terrible thought,’ he says, and stares at me.
Chapter78Push
We walk and wheel in silence alongside the river. I check my phone. There are eighteen messages from Cait about her investigation, but I’m not in the mood to engage with her delusions. I make a note to myself to convince her to move the focus from Hollis, as he must be my future now.
We arrive at our romantic spot with views of Westminster and the London Eye. The place I was going to kill him and where he proposed. We’ve said little, and I’m buttoned up against the cold. I put my handbag on the arm of his wheelchair and push my hands deep into the pockets of my Prada coat.
He looks up at me, expectant. If it’s honesty Hollis wants, then I can be honest, but people rarely enjoy it when they get what they ask for. If Hollis’s will is not in my name, it means there’s no advantage to killing him. A necessary precaution for a billionaire, and quite a helpful impediment to the murderous urges that used to punctuate my relationship with Hollis. I’ll try to enjoy his wealth, at least until I find a way to convince him to change the will.
‘I’ve got no evidence, Lalla,’ he says. ‘You can just walk away now if you want. But I love you, and if you love me, you’ll tell me the truth.’
‘What exactly do you suspect me of?’
‘I know what you are. You told me all about yourself and your deeds during your drunken rambles, and I loved you more for it. But there’s been this doubt I’ve had for a long time.’
‘Then make the accusation, Hollis.’
‘Did you push me off the mountain?’ he says and stares at me fiercely.
I pause. I’ve rarely been confronted with the things I’ve done, and I’m not sure of the best response.
‘What would I possibly have gained from killing you?’ I ask.
‘Not all crimes are about satisfying material needs. Some are more psychological.’
Hollis stares at me in silence. I see him try to swallow. I feel the gulf between us.
‘You seem to remember all the good things about us, but it wasn’t all good,’ I say.
Hollis loved me in the beginning. He even loved the rage, anger, and transgression. It allowed me to feel free and I told him things I’d never told anyone in my life. And then, day by day, comment by comment, he slowly started to hold it against me. He used it to cut me off from other people, remove my freedom, take away access to money, until the noose was so tight around my neck, I either had to beg for air or push back.
‘You forced me to stay with you, that was the truth.’
‘You were free to go whenever you wanted,’ he says.
‘You threatened to tell people what I’d told you in confidence. That’s not freedom.’
‘I didn’t threaten. I just said you needed looking after. I was trying to keep you from harming yourself again, or someone else.’
‘When we arrived in France, I wanted to leave you. We talked about it. You said I couldn’t. You took my passport away.’
‘Where would you have gone, Lalla? You had no money, you were...’ He looks up at me, silent for a moment. ‘You were a danger to yourself.’
‘I just wanted to be free,’ I say.
‘So you pushed me off the mountain,’ he concludes.
‘You suffocated me,’ I say.
‘So you smashed my legs to pieces and left me for dead!’ he shouts, and indicates his legs and missing scrotum with a dramatic sweep of his hand.
‘This isn’t getting us anywhere, Hollis. The past is the past.’ I frown and bite my lip a little, which I hope shows regret.
‘And will there be other mistakes? You know I’m rich now, too. Must be tempting.’
