Page 42 of Her Last Breath

‘I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you both,’ Jane said, dragging her eyes away from the children.

‘It was at first. I mean when she left and it was just her, yes, we worried. That was her choice though, and even though I dreaded a call like … After the children it became worse. I worried about her for them. Then you realise your role in all this. The best you can do, the best we could do, was make sure they were OK.’ She looked towards the children, Jane following her gaze. Emily was staring at them.

‘Is that why you didn’t report her missing for a week?’ Jane asked.

Trish nodded, fresh tears in her eyes, while Owen gripped her hands, sitting stoically next to her.

‘Where did she go when she needed to be alone?’

‘Sometimes to her grandmother,’ said Owen. ‘My mother had more patience than us, indulgent even. But she hated the stuff that Alice was filling her body with.’

‘The drugs?’

‘Yes. She couldn’t abide them and what they did to the people around her. We moved from Harrogate to Burnley for Dad’s job, and she said over the years she saw how drugs destroyed the lives of people who had so little already the most. She told me, you know, when she were growing up how Burnley used to be envied, the history of its manor houses, the wealth the mills brought in. Then slowly it all declined like all these towns round here, no investment for decades and in those gaps the criminals just pitch up tent. They don’t care whose lives they ruin. My mother were happy to take Alice in and help her get clean, though. Until she got too ill.’

‘I could never do it,’ Trish said, her voice full of regret. ‘I was so devastated at what had happened to my baby that when she came home to me, I would always get angry and Alice would leave. His mum though, she was a kinder woman.’

‘It must have hit Alice hard when her grandmother became ill?’

‘It hit us all hard. It were a stroke. She was eighty-six, perfectly able, her mind sharp. And then the next day she could barely talk and couldn’t move.’

‘When was this?’

‘May. Eighteenth. A day before her eighty-seventh birthday.’

‘Alice went to see her?’

‘Yes, every day,’ Owen said. ‘It wasn’t too far from where Alice lived, so she could walk there. She walked everywhere she could to save money. It’s why she couldn’t come here so often. Even when she would leave the kids with us. I did offer to pick her up, but she wouldn’t have it. Had to pay for three buses at least to get here.’

‘That was my fault,’ Trish said. ‘I couldn’t help myself. I tried to just keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t. If she came to us for help, she got it, along with a bucketful of lectures and “I told you so”.’

‘Come on, love.’ Owen patted her hand, then squeezed it.

Jane looked over to the kids, waving at Emily, who looked shyly away, hiding her face on her brother’s shoulder. He put his arm around his sister without taking his eyes off the TV.

‘Do you remember the incident with the nurse at the hospice?’ Jane asked tentatively.

Owen looked sheepish, embarrassed. Trish’s eyes darted towards him.

‘It was so unnecessary,’ he said, softly. ‘The nurse accused Alice of stealing my mother’s wedding ring. Called the police, called us. It was mortifying, and I’m just glad my mother wasn’t aware of what was going on.’

‘You asked the hospice not to pursue it?’

‘Yes. It didn’t make sense. If Alice had wanted that ring, my mother would have given it to her. After her death it was going to Alice anyway, so why would she steal it?’

‘What did Alice say?’

‘She was hysterical, ranting and screaming at the police, at the nurse. At us. That’s when I thought she might be high again. She blamed us for everything, and said the nurse was stealing the ring, that she caught her doing so. I mean, why would the nurse do that?’

Jane didn’t know, but she would ask Kangna Kandasamy for sure. What else did Alice know about the nurse? Was it enough to warrant Alice being silenced?

‘You didn’t believe her?’

‘We didn’t have time to think. Mother passed away that day.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Jane pictured her own mother passing away. What sort of state would she herself be in then?

‘After that? How was Alice?’