‘She must have jumped,’ I told the police. ‘She must have decided that she wanted to be with Kathy. Two spirits together, living in that flat, so she could be with her all the time, not just at obon.’ The police loved that.

‘So you saw Elaine Meadows last night?’ said the detective in charge of the case.

‘Yes. I went to see her to…’ At which point I stopped talking and asked for a solicitor.

So here I am, in a cell, awaiting trial for the murders of Kathy Noonan and Elaine Meadows. Apparently, the case relies almost entirely on the testimony of Emily, whose anger with me seems to be all-consuming: this is her way of punishing me and keeping Siobhan and me apart. And I guess she really believes that I did it. Thinking back over what I wrote in the journal, I suppose it was pretty ambiguous.

The police also have forensic evidence that I was in the flat the night Elaine jumped, not that I’ve denied it. I feel slightly responsible for Elaine’s death – if I hadn’t gone round there and stirred up all those old feelings… although she might just have been waiting to find out the truth about what happened before she joined the love of her life in death. I wrote earlier that I’d sensed something strange – some weird vibe – and now I understand it: she had a death wish. She was just waiting to join Kathy – she’d wanted me to push her. I understand that now; that desperate desire to be with the one you love. Still, I would have appreciated it if she’d left a suicide note absolving me of all responsibility. How thoughtless of her.

There are only two positive things left in my life. One is that my publisher is even more excited than ever about my literary career. ‘Think of the publicity,’ said Pernilla, who also told me that she had let Emily go because ‘the poor girl is a wreck, and her efficiency has nosedived drastically.’

The other, of course, is Siobhan.

Siobhan, my angel, as I lie here at night, listening to my cellmate grunting as he jerks off in the other bunk, I think of you and that beautiful night we spent together. Even though my body is in a cage… Oh shit, here comes the warden. And I don’t think he’s big on romance. But listen, Siobhan, if this was a letter, I’d sign off with four kisses, and a heart with an arrow right through it – like the heart I watched Elaine etch into the condensation, just before I left her flat.

Epilogue

22nd April.

My darling Alex,

Reading between the lines, you sounded miserable in your last letter. How are you holding up? I want to hold you up, and never let you go. I promise I will do that for you, in whatever way I can, whatever happens.

I know I keep saying this, but you never seem convinced so I will say it again: the truth will out, darling. I’m sure that you won’t end up prison. Emily couldn’t possibly lie under oath. She’ll realize that she can’t punish you in that way: that she’s playing with your life. I’m sure she’ll come around. She’s just relishing her impression of a roaring mouse for now, that’s all. She’ll calm down.

I’m sorry that you ever met her. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so blind, and so weird with you when you first said you loved me, none of this would have happened. I drove you into her arms, and I feel terrible about that.

Like I said the night before they took you away, I’ve always been slow on the uptake. I don’t know why. I either choose the wrong man (Phil being a prime example), or, in your case, can’t recognise a good thing when I see it. I mean, you bought me designer clothes, and I still turned you down! How mad is that? I can’t believe I fixated on the money part of it – I’m not tight, darling, I promise – from now on, what’s mine is yours (not that you’ll be rich, I warn you!), but I was just afraid. I was afraid of your intensity, and the effect it had on me when you looked at me that way.

It’s so funny – at dinner that night, my birthday, someone asked me what my ideal man would be like. It was only later that I realized I had given an accurate description of you, my love, both physically and mentally. You were what I wanted all along. I was just too overwhelmed by your devotion, and the way that it came like a bolt from the blue. Or maybe I felt that I didn’t deserve it – that’s always been a problem of mine; and, now that I think about it, probably the reason I’ve ended up with so many losers before. I’ve never allowed myself to truly love anybody, in case they left me.

And now here we are, apart! For who knows how long…. No, sorry, Alex, ignore that. I’m trying so hard to think positive, but every now and then I think ‘what if…’, and panic. I can’t bear the thought of you going to prison for years.

But you won’t. Like I said, Emily’s not evil. She knows you didn’t really do it, and she wouldn’t let that happen. Even though I know how true it is that hell hath no fury, etc, etc. And I wish she wouldn’t have said whatever it was that’s she’s clearly said to Natalie and Simon – they still put the phone down when I try to ring them. Natalie was quite nasty to me last time I tried, actually. I’m glad they wrote you a note; but it’s really not fair that they’re blaming me for all this! I’d do anything to get you out of there.

And no, in answer to your question, your mum didn’t ring me back either. I’m sorry. I think under the circumstances it was good of you to let her know what’s going on.

I’m going to change the subject now before I drag us both down. Guess what – I got a new job! Reading manuscripts for a hot new literary agent; an ex-editor called Mark Molesey. It’s very part time, which is perfect. I want flexible hours so that I will always be able to visit you, angel. And I’ve already sent him your stories and told him about your deal, obviously, and he’s keen to represent you for the novel that I know you’re going to write.

I’m so proud of your writing success. I was jealous at first, but that was before you were part of my life, and also when I thought that I still had ambitions to be a ‘faymuss awfor’. Reading all these manuscripts for Mark has made me realize that, actually, I am a good writer. And so are you. I’ve decided that I’m not going to do any more writing for a while though – just give myself a break from the pressure of it. I don’t want to write another novel until – or even unless – I get that deep, mad yearning for it. I’ve learned that you have to really want things in order to deserve them: want them and fight for them, like you did for me. I’m so incredibly touched that you did that for me, after I’d very nearly wrecked everything.

I’ll sign off now. There’s a man coming to clean the carpets, and I have to go and buy Biggles some flea powder – oh the excitement! Anyway, I’ll be visiting tomorrow, so this afternoon I’ll be baking my Victoria sponge with a file in. Maybe next time will be the time the guards let me through with it. I can’t wait to see you, angel. Every part of me is waiting for you, however long it takes, body and soul.

All my love,

Siobhan xxx

If you enjoyed KILLING CUPID you will love the second novel from Mark Edwards and Louise Voss:

CATCH YOUR DEATH

A secret conspiracy. A killer virus. A race to save the world.

Imagine if Dan Brown and Michael Crichton sat down together to write a fast-paced medical conspiracy thriller set in the English countryside, featuring evil scientists, stone-cold killers, a deadly virus and a beautiful but vulnerable Harvard professor.

That's CATCH YOUR DEATH, the new novel from Louise Voss and Mark Edwards, the writing team behind the Amazon Top 50 thriller KILLING CUPID.

Esteemed virologist Kate Maddox thought she was escaping to a new life. But before she can face the future she must deal with the ghosts of the past.