The Guilty Mother. Diane Jeffrey
She gets out of the car and I watch her walk away. I sit in the car for several minutes with the engine idling, looking up at Holly’s window, berating myself for messing up so badly with Holly and for messing her around.
When I get home, the boys are asleep and Kelly is dozing in front of the TV on the sofa. I pay her what I normally pay Nina and use the Uber app on my phone to request a ride to take her home. While we’re waiting for the driver, I bring her up to speed with the latest in the Slade case.
‘So, let’s get this straight,’ Kelly says. ‘It was originally thought the mother lost one baby and murdered the other one?’
‘That was the way the evidence pointed at the trial and the jury’s verdict, yes.’
‘And now fresh evidence – a missing post-mortem report that has resurfaced – suggests both babies died of cot death?’ She sounds incredulous.
I consider this before answering. ‘Well, that’s what Superintendent Goodman and Melissa’s defence team are hoping to prove. That report is their main ground for appeal. And it has happened before. There are precedents.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re too young to remember, but there were several women in the nineties and noughties who were imprisoned for killing more than one of their babies. It turned out their babies died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome and their convictions were gross miscarriages of justice.’
Kelly doesn’t appear to have listened to me. ‘Is it possible the missing report your friend gave you is inconclusive and Melissa Slade killed both twins?’
‘I suppose we can’t rule that out,’ I concede, getting the instant sensation I’m betraying Holly. She was sure of herself, so sure that she stood her ground in court. ‘She was my girlfriend, actually,’ I blurt out, ‘but she’s not anymore. As of this evening.’ I don’t know why I say that. It only makes me feel even more disloyal towards Holly.
‘Oh.’ Kelly doesn’t sound very sympathetic, barely breaking flow. ‘Or maybe neither Amber nor Ellie died of cot death but Melissa Slade is innocent,’ she says, steering the conversation back on track.
‘Hmm,’ I say dubiously. ‘But then, what killed them? A genetic disease?’
‘Possibly. You’d think that would have shown up in the post-mortems, though. I wonder if the question is not what killed them, but who? No one seems to have considered it could have been murder, but that Melissa Slade wasn’t the murderer.’ She starts to say something else, but she’s interrupted by the sound of a car horn.
‘Looks like your Uber’s here,’ I say, unnecessarily.
As Kelly leaves, I try to think over the different theories we’ve just come up with, but I can’t concentrate. My thoughts keep racing back to Holly. I tap out several texts on my mobile, but end up deleting each one. In the end, I write three words. I’m so sorry.
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