So, no accident then. No accident. Was it suicide? Or was she just too mad to remember she was driving? I thought of my own brush with death, face down on a vomit-soaked carpet, and groaned aloud. My own mother had tried to kill me. Why? Because she knew she was going to kill herself and couldn’t bear to leave me behind? Had she wanted to prevent me suffering the same affliction in the future, snuffing me out before I had a chance to follow in her footsteps? Well, what a failure she’d made of that. In the depths of her mental torment, had she forgotten about me, strapped into the baby seat? Had I screamed as the wall rushed towards us? I thought of what her injuries must have been, and flinched. Had Angus identified her? What must he have thought as he contemplated what was left, the crumpled, ragged, ripped-apart body, the parts of it they’d managed to salvage from the wrecked car?

The pressure in my head screwed itself tighter. I could hear myself sobbing on every outward breath. Angus. All these years he’d lied to me. So many secrets in one family. How many more were there, waiting out there, waiting to spring?

I managed to get to my feet. Oblivion had never seemed so necessary. I ransacked my bathroom, looking for something, anything that would put me out for the night. I found three sleeping tablets, Temazepam, rolling around in one of the drawers. God knows how long they’d been there. As I washed them down with wine, I found myself wondering how dangerous a move this was. Perhaps they would kill me. Good, was the only answer my mind came up with, and I lay on the bed and waited for sleep, or some other kind of black curtain. Whichever came first.

Chapter Twenty Five

“You look like death,” were Matt’s first words to me as I walked through the door of the flat.

“Thanks a bunch.” I handed him one of my bags. “Nice to see you too.”

“Sorry.” He dropped the bag on the floor, drew me against him and kissed me. “That was a bit rude. You don’t look like death, but you look very tired. Better?”

I leant against his broad chest, closing my eyes.

“How was it up there?”

I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to forget what I’d heard, push it back down into the shadows.

“I’ll tell you later,” I said. “I’m too tired right now.”

I flopped onto the sofa, groaning softly. Matt handed me a little pile of envelopes.

“Your post,” he said. “Want a drink?”

I nodded. On the top envelope, my name and address were written in a hand I didn’t recognise. I tore the envelope open and scanned the single page within.

Matt was clinking about in the drinks cupboard. As I stared at the page, I became aware he’d asked me a question.

“What?”

“I said, vodka tonic do you?”

“Yes, fine.” I carefully folded the paper up and put it back in the envelope. “Matt, I have to go out tomorrow. I’ll probably be out most of the day.”

“Oh darling, you’ve only just got back. I haven’t seen you for days.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” I couldn’t face a row. “It’s stuff to do with the estate. I have to deal with it.”

Matt handed me my glass. “If you must, you must. But I’ll have forgotten what you look like soon. We must make a bit of time for us, Maudie.”

I nodded and sipped my drink, only half listening. All I could think about was the note in my pocket and the meeting with Jessica in the morning that it promised.

I had never been to the London Aquarium before. As I made my way slowly through the dimly lit rooms, bathed in a bluish glow, I thought to myself that I must come here more often. It had a peaceful sense to it, despite the hordes of school children that thronged the corridors and pressed their faces up against the glass. I drifted from one underwater scene to another, moving slowly through the dappled light and feeling calmer than I had in weeks. The three fingers of vodka I’d consumed before I left the house helped too. Drinking in the morning was supposed to be a bad sign but the way I was feeling, it was a lifesaver.

Eventually I came to our meeting place. I found a seat on one of the plastic benches opposite the shark tank and rested there, watching the sharks move their perpetual circles, spiralling up to the top of the tank, and then moving back down to my eye level. There was something hypnotic in their endless circling.

Jessica's arrival was heralded by a slight breath of the perfume she wore. I kept my eyes on the shark tank but I became aware of her sitting next to me.

“Hi, Jessica," I said quietly, not looking at her.

"Hi, Maudie."

We were quiet for a little while longer. I could feel the warmth of her arm through my sleeve and felt obscurely comforted.

"Horrible, aren't they?" she said, after a while.

I turned to look at her. "The sharks?"

"No, the screaming kids. Nightmare."

I laughed. "They are a little noisy, yes."

"At least it means we can talk freely," she said, somewhat mysteriously. She shrugged off her long black coat and folded it over her arm. "Thanks for meeting me. I didn’t know whether I should phone – anyway, how have you been?"

For a moment, I considered telling the truth. That I’d found out my own mother had been as mad as I’d once been and had committed suicide whilst trying to murder me. That my family had conspired to keep this a secret. That I’d been drinking more and more heavily, more and more secretly, since I’d discovered this. I considered telling her this for a millisecond and of course, rejected the idea.

“Oh I’m fine,” I said. “Not bad. How have you been?"

She didn't answer at first. She looked upset. I was about to say something and then she caught my eye. Her face smoothed out and she looked normal again.

"I've been okay," she said. "Things have been a bit - a bit of a struggle. A bit. I’ve been wondering – wondering what to do. I'm okay now though."

She didn't elaborate and I didn't want to press her. For a moment, I wished passionately that we could jump forward in time, to a friendship renewed three years down the track, where we'd got past the awkwardness and the back stories and were simply able to be ourselves again, as we had once been before.

"Let's wander," I said, wanting to break the silence.

We left the shark tank and walked on. Jessica stopped at a tank filled with jellyfish, floating like gently undulating, translucent balloons in the water. We were briefly alone, and she moved forward to look more closely. The blue light from the tank fell onto her face and as I watched her, I had a sudden sense of horror; it was visceral, like a whole-body shudder. She looked drowned, her skin bleached out, her eyes unseen in black hollows.

I must have made a sound. She turned towards me and the illusion was gone. I stood there with my hand up to my mouth, swallowing.

"What’s up?" she said.

I managed to put my hand down, shrug and smile. I could not shake the image of her drowned face. Perhaps the Aquarium had been a mistake. I'd managed to forget about Matt's words to me outside the pub. Now all my fears were crowding back, flooding back.

"Sorry," I said to Jessica. "I've just got to nip to the Ladies. Will you wait here for me?"

I prayed she wouldn't need to come with me.

"I'll wait here," she said.

I scurried away. I kept seeing her blue, drowned face in my mind. It had been a momentary illusion, caused by the weird water-light.

                 A few moments in a locked cubicle were enough to calm me. I took a few deep breaths before I pushed my way back out through the line of women and young children.