Page 123 of Ethan & Grace

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I can’t, because I didn’t delete the footage,” my dad insisted. His impassive expression finally began to show signs of impatience. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

I gritted my teeth. “You’re lying!”

“Your father isn’t lying,” my mum’s voice came from behind me. She had entered the living room without my noticing.

I looked up at her. She was also wearing a dressing gown, and her blond hair was tucked under a silk bonnet. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, as if to hold herself together. Her face was etched with worry and shame. I wondered how much of our conversation she’d heard. “It was me. I deleted the footage.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “How? You don’t have access to the server.”

“No, I don’t. But your dad does. He keeps a little black notebook in his study with all the important information in it, including his passwords,” my mum explained with a faint smile on her lips—but it was desperate rather than happy, like a shield she was clinging to in order to stop herself from breaking down in tears.

I stood up and walked over to her. She avoided my gaze. I found it hard to believe that she was behind all this, but the guilt reflected in her eyes told the truth. “Who did you delete it for?”

“Alistair.”

“Eddington?”

She nodded. But that didn’t make any sense. He’d cancelled his attendance at the Pearl Gala so the allegations against my dad wouldn’t make him look bad. Which was why Grace and I had never suspected him. And why would he have been anywhere near The Darlington that evening if he wasn’t going to the gala?

My mum seemed to notice my confusion. “It wasn’t Alistair who hit Grace’s sister. It was Charles.”

My mouth fell open, but no sound came out. Charles had killed Amy? How was that possible? I knew he was a thoughtless bastard, but a hit-and-run? Manslaughter? I wouldn’t have thought even he was capable of it.

“He was drunk and wasn’t paying attention,” my mum explained.

I nodded, dazed, trying to process the information. Charles must have left the gala after Jessie and I had slipped away. I hadn’t realised he’d driven to the gala in the first place. Especially considering he’d drunk just as much as I had that evening. No one would have been fit to drive under those circumstances. But it also explained why he’d behaved so strangely towards Grace on Saturday evening. I’d assumed he’d simply deemed her beneath him, but in reality, he’d seen in her the reflection of the woman he’d killed. It was so fucked up!

“He was driving his dad’s Rolls-Royce, and when it happened, he was completely out of his depth. He didn’t know what else to do, so he rang his father,” my mum went on, still not meeting my eyes. “Alistair knew that headlines about his son drunkenly killing a young woman with his car would ruin his election campaign. So he asked me to make the footage disappear.”

I couldn’t believe it. This kind of behaviour would have been in character for my dad, but my mum? Even with her occasional bitterness and cynicism, I wouldn’t have thought her capable of it.

“I don’t get it. Why did you help him?”

She let out a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul. “The negative headlines about us, and about The Darlington, were piling up. Henry was getting bad press because of Kate, and things with your dad’s trial weren’t looking good. When Alistair asked me to delete the footage, I saw it as an opportunity for our family. People look up to Alistair. They admire him. His poll ratings are excellent, and his words carry weight.”

“You wanted Alistair to speak up for Dad,” I concluded, thinking back to the statement Charles’s father had made some time ago, in which he’d said my dad had a heart of gold. I should have been sceptical even then. Anyone who knew my dad was well aware that he had a lump of stone in the place his heart should have been.

“Yes,” my mum confirmed, finally meeting my gaze. Tears glistened in her eyes. “Charles didn’t hit the girl on purpose. It was an accident. Alistair took away his driving licence. And I just wanted to help our family, to make the best of a situation that couldn’t be changed. You have to understand that.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t understand it. I never really understood my mum. Not about this, and not about my dad. Just because something couldn’t be undone didn’t mean that it should be forgiven and forgotten. Especially when other people had to deal with the consequences.

“You have to come to the police with me,” I said.

She bit her lower lip, hesitating.

“Mum, please.” She had to tell the police everything. There was no way around it.

I was already bracing myself for an argument, but then, to my relief, she nodded, seemingly ready to take responsibility for her actions. “Fine. I’ll just quickly change and get the USB stick.”

I raised my eyebrows. “What USB stick?”

“The one with the footage of the accident.”

“You kept it?”

The corners of her mouth lifted. “Of course. How naive do you think I am? I’m not going to break the law for Alistair without keeping something up my sleeve.” With that, she turned and walked up the stairs to her bedroom.