I stayed awake almost all night, furious that Andrew had robbed me of my one last chance to kill Clark. I only briefly spoke to Lucy when I got in, as everyone was heading to bed for lightsout, but didn’t really get to expand on my trainwreck of a day. I considered letting the prison guards know that I hadn’t actually had dinner, due to all the commotion, but I thought of Andrew’s words about playing nice. I had heard that prison officers could be a fickle bunch. Considering I would be getting quite familiar with them, it was probably best to play on the side of compliant for now.
Play nice for twenty-four hours.
To Andrew, I’m sure it was a chance to try and even the odds and actually simmer up a little hope, maybe by talking to Isla or the judge, or even trying to find another witness who may turn out to be my deus ex machina. Best-case scenario, I imagined, was some kind of plea bargain. He’d mentioned he had those leaked documents– maybe that was a part of it? I guessed if I went for guilty, I would get a few years knocked off my sentence, but I’d still probably be in my fifties or sixties by the time I got out. Gareth’s children, with his new wife, would be adults themselves by then.
The next morning, they got me up early, just like the day before. I followed the routine, got into the same nice smart clothes, and prepared myself to be led out to the van. This time I was certain they would handcuff me. I imagined my arm would be bruised black by the time I got to the courthouse, through all the manhandling about to occur.
But they didn’t. Instead, rather than taking me to the exit, they yanked me to the other side of the prison.
‘Ummm, where are we going?’ I asked.
They didn’t answer.
I winced prematurely. I knew I was probably only seconds away from the beating of my life. I imagined some of the police would be waiting for me in one of the meeting rooms, ready to show me what happened to people who embarrassed them publicly like I had yesterday.
The guard led me to Meeting Room A, hauled open the door and indelicately shoved me inside. I quickly scanned my surroundings, but there was no gang of thugs waiting to punch the crap out of me. Instead, it was Andrew, leaning against the wall, his fingers wrapped tightly around a cup of coffee.
‘Andrew? What?! Why are you here? We have the trial…’
Andrew inhaled sharply.
‘Well, Fran, this is the thing: no, we don’t.’
‘What?’ I was guessing they must have moved it or shifted it after my attempted murder of Clark.
‘After the trial yesterday, there were a few occurrences that took place. I didn’t have my phone on me, so I only found out about it all after we were dismissed,’ said Andrew, strolling around the small perimeter of the room. ‘Someone went into the police station at around seven p.m. last night, and took all the blame for Macleod and O’Neill’s death, with evidence that implicated himself and also – rather miraculously – seemed to somewhat exonerate you. Somewhat, that is. I’ve been speaking to Isla and the judge, and we have decided not to continue with the trial at this time – until we have a bit more information on next steps.’
‘What?!’ I said again, my mind failing to think of any witty quip in response. Was this some incredibly lucid dream? This hadn’t happened, right? And if it had,howthe hell had it happened, and why did Andrew look so uneasy telling me about it? ‘So, who was it?’
Andrew took a big gulp of coffee before speaking, bracing himself. I could tell he wished it was something stronger.
‘You idiot,’ I was going to say to him. That was the sentence that had been circling around my brain as soon as Andrew had told me what happened. After they’d organised my release, I’d got ataxi and then a train and then a taxi again and then arrived at the station, waited impatiently for visiting hours, and then finally went into the custody suite. I said a quick hello to Paul – it was genuinely nice to see him again – who led me into the meeting room, to see him sitting there, having somehow found a way to get his newspaper crossword. ‘You big fucking idiot.’ I ripped the paper from underneath him.
‘You’re welcome,’ Angus grunted.
‘Just…explain this to me? What? Why? When? How?’
‘Does it even really matter, Fran? What matters is you’re out, I’m in. You can now go on with your life and play all little happy families with Gareth. Just what you always wanted.’
‘You actually think I’m just going to let you take the fall for this? It’s my word against yours, buddy, and I can go right back into that courtroom and confess. It ain’t over until I say it’s over.’
‘I told them everything, Fran,’ Angus said, with a strange amount of calm. ‘I told them about how I murdered Macleod and O’Neill, and how I was manipulating and blackmailing you into doing some of my dirty work, but I was still the one who delivered the killing blows.’
‘They won’t believe that.’
‘Hmmm – the Crown Prosecution Service, who are they going to gun for? The woman who they’re not one hundred per cent sure they can convince the jury is a murderer, or the guy with a criminal record who’s literally confessing that he did it with a motive and evidence?’
‘But surely, they won’t just drop everything? Someone saw me throwing limbs in the river. They were going to put him on the stand later on in the trial. That still must make me an accessory, at the very least.’
‘Well…’ Angus started his sentence, but didn’t finish. ‘I think you should really talk to your husband.’
‘What do you mean?’ A quick flash of anger made me lurch forward. ‘He made you do this? Gareth?’
‘No,’ Angus scoffed, almost with an air of incredulity. ‘He didn’t make me do this, this is all of my decision, but I mean, I hadn’t realised what sort of man Gareth was at all.’
‘What do you mean?’ I questioned, trying to find some sense in all the new information that was being thrown at me. ‘Angus, this is prison we’re talking about here. You’re not going to be able to collect papers and watch old films, you know? This is some real shit.’
‘Yeah, but my meals will be made for me, I can do a lot of reading, I guess, and I’ve always wanted to try making toilet wine.’
