As soon as the words were out of her mouth she felt embarrassed. She sounded absurd. Even with the tension pulsing through the room, Bella heard herself speaking with a sensation of disbelief. How was it possible that these things had been done, by these people? It was too late now anyway. She had to push on and say the rest of it. She took a firmer grip of the table edge.

“You pushed her. I don’t know if you meant to but you did push her. She fell down the stairs and hit her head and died. She died in this house and you wouldn’t go to the police. You dug a hole under the shed and you buried her there.”

Carl put down his mug. He was smiling.

“Buried someone under the shed?”

Bella flushed. “That’s what I said.”

“Well, Bella – “ Carl paused and his smile grew wider. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, darling… that’s quite a story. Let me guess – that’s what Jake told you, right?”

“I – “

“Am I right? It was Jake’s story?”

Bella floundered. “Well, yes – but – “

Carl stopped smiling. His brows drew together, less of a frown, more of a wince.

“I don’t blame you,” he said. “You’re too young to really know how to handle this – and I can’t pretend that I was hoping it wouldn’t happen.”

Bella stared at him, winded.

“What?”

Carl put down his mug.

“Bella, my love, you must know that Jake’s not been himself lately.” He threw a quick, anxious glance at his brother as he spoke. Jake hadn’t moved since Carl started speaking but Bella couldn’t bear to look at him. “Jake is – is not well. He’s not mentally well. I did try and tell you about this earlier. I did try and warn you. You remember; that time you slept in V’s bed? Jake had thrown you out of the bedroom, if I remember rightly?”

Bella looked down at the table, feeling a great wash of heat climb towards her face. She felt the hard edges of the table beneath her fingertips, the only thing she felt she could be sure was real.

Carl went on.

“I tried to warn you then and I’m truly sorry Jake hasn’t been able to share this with you directly. He’s really not mentally well. He’s had these – these episodes – before. I really hoped the last one might have been the last but, it seems not.”

Bella blinked a couple of times. She was conscious of her mouth hanging open and shut it as she groped for words.

“What?” she said weakly.

Carl came over to her and she flinched back a little. He took no notice, and crouched down on his haunches, putting his hands gently on her shoulders. She felt the warmth of his fingers as he spoke again, softly.

“I’m so sorry, Bella.”

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She felt as if she were groping through thick fog, towards a light barely glimpsed in the distance.

“What are you talking about?” she managed.

Carl looked serious. He kept his hands on her shoulders, tightening his grip just slightly.

“God Bella, I’m so sorry. I was so hoping that this day was never going to come. You just have to accept it. I’ve had to, my whole life. He’s my little brother, you know? I’ve always had this, I’ve always had to take care of him. Ever since we were little. Ever since Mum died.”

Bella sat, unmoving. She was transfixed by Carl’s eyes, so like Jake’s, holding her gaze, unmoving. His large hands cradled the rounded bones of her shoulders. She groped for clarity, trying to make sense of the thoughts that were filling her head in a thick, swirling fog. Was it true? She thought back to Jake, his moodiness, his temper, his box full of secrets. Was it all a lie? Why would he lie? Why? Because Carl says he’s ill, she told herself. He’s mentally ill. Her thoughts thickened, like mud, like the ash-choked air of an underground tunnel. She was back there again, wading through the wall of heat and thick choking dust. Only this time, there was no Jake to take her hand and lead her out to daylight – because it was Jake that was causing the darkness. She put her hands up to her temples, pressing her fingers into her skin, holding together her aching head. What a fool I’ve been, she thought, and felt tears sting her eyes, blurring her vision. She blinked hard.

Carl was still crouching before her. His face was serious, his brows drawn together but she could see a lightening in his eyes, a release of tension. He could see her belief in his explanation dawning. He gave her shoulders one last, friendly squeeze and stood up.

For a moment, there was silence in the kitchen. Bella was aware of the four of them, locked for a second, in a curious tableau: Carl, frozen in the act of stepping back from his crouch; Jake, staring down at the table top; Veronica, cringing back against the cooker; herself, sitting static on her kitchen chair.

Jake looked up. His eyes were tear-filled.

“Am I mad?”

No one spoke. He asked again, in a faltering voice.

“Am I mad? Am I really mad?”

Bella felt her whole face clench in pity. She opened her mouth to answer him, to say something, to reassure him.

Veronica pushed herself away from the cooker. She stood straight, very upright, her blonde hair gleaming brightly under the light. She was trembling but when she spoke, her voice was surprising calm.

“No, you’re not mad, Jake. You’re not mad at all.”

She was looking at her boyfriend, full in the face.

“Carl’s lying,” she said.

Bella, gaping, looked from her to Carl, watching his face begin to darken. Veronica took a deep breath.

“He’s lying about everything. You’re not mad, Jake. That girl – Candice - she was here, and Carl pushed her down the stairs, and she died. We put her under the shed. Then Carl made me help him dig her up, and we moved her far away. He wanted to make sure she would never be found. And he wanted to make sure he had a scapegoat, just in case she was.”

Bella felt the muscles of her face contract in shock. She watched Carl take a step forward, his face black with anger, the denial of Veronica’s words trembling on his lips.

Veronica gasped in another breath. She was speaking fast, as if racing against some inner deadline.

“He went back to look a couple of times. I saw him do it the first time. He was fascinated by the body. You didn’t know I watched you the other times, though, did you Carl? I watched you do it. You couldn’t keep away from that shed.”

Carl drew his lips back from his teeth.

“You fucking bitch,” he said.

Veronica didn’t flinch. She kept on talking.

“Jake, you’re not mad, you’re not. Or you’re no madder than I was, than we have been. It was a terrible thing we did but we don’t have to put up with it any more. It’s over, it’s past. It’s too late, Carl, can’t you see? It was inevitable. I knew it then, but I couldn’t speak out. You cowed me down too much. Bella – “ her eyes turned to Bella, who clenched her fists beneath the table, “Bella, I wanted to tell you, to warn you but I couldn’t. I’m sorry. And now it’s too late for salvaging.” Veronica took a deep breath. She looked at Jake and her face softened. She looked at him, almost tenderly.

“I’m sorry Jake,” she said. “We should have stuck together, the first time. It would have been better for us all.”

In the silence that followed, Bella was suddenly aware of her held breath. She let it out in a giant whooping gasp, her heart stuttering against her ribs. She watched Carl open his mouth, to say something, to refute, to retaliate – she never found out.

Then there was a roar from Jake, so loud she jumped and nearly screamed herself, a inarticulate cry of pain; loss and fury rushing forward from his lungs. He exploded upwards, unfolding in an ungainly ballet from his chair. The roar went on, reverberating from kitchen wall to kitchen wall. Bella cringed back in her chair. She caught sight of Veronica, turning, her mouth an ‘o’ of surprise, her beautiful face stretched in shock. By then Jake had moved, his chair flying in a clatter of wood, Veronica in his way, pushed aside, the glint of metal as his arm came down, Veronica falling, her swathe of gold hair flying, Carl’s eyes wide with shock, Jake’s arm moving around, down, thudding against his brother’s body. Bella felt the scream come up inside her, her hands up to her face, digging her nails into her skin. Veronica hit the kitchen floor, crying out in pain as her head smacked back against the cabinet doors. Carl’s legs were sliding, sliding across the tiled floor, his hands grasping Jake’s hands, the two of them locked together, Carl’s eyes wide and his mouth gaping.