WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 7, 2013
MORNING
I was with the National Childbirth Trust girls atStarbucks when it happened. We were sitting in ourusual spot by the window, the kids were spreading Lego all over the floor, Beth was trying (yet again) topersuade me to join her book club, and then Dianeshowed up. She had this look on her face, theself-importance of someone who is about to deliver apiece of particularly juicy gossip. She could barelycontain herself as she struggled to get her doublebuggy through the door.
“Anna,” she said, her face grave, “have you seenthis?” She held up a newspaper with the headlineWAS MEGAN A CHILD KILLER? I was speechless. I juststared at it and, ridiculously, burst into tears. Eviewas horrified. She howled. It was awful.
I went to the loos to clean myself (and Evie) up,and when I got back they were all speaking inhushed tones. Diane glanced slyly up at me andasked, “Are you all right, sweetie?” She was enjoyingit, I could tell.
I had to leave then, I couldn’t stay. They were allbeing terribly concerned, saying how awful it must befor me, but I could see it on their faces: thinlydisguised disapproval. How could you entrust yourchild to that monster? You must be the worstmother in the world.
I tried to call Tom on the way home, but his phonejust went straight to voice mail. I left him a messageto ring me back as soon as possible—I tried to keepmy voice light and even, but I was trembling and mylegs felt shaky, unsteady.
I didn’t buy the paper, but I couldn’t resist readingthe story online. It all sounds rather vague. “Sourcesclose to the Hipwell investigation” claim an allegationhas been made that Megan “may have been involvedin the unlawful killing of her own child” ten yearsago. The “sources” also speculate that this could be amotive for her murder. The detective in charge ofthe whole investigation—Gaskill, the one who came tospeak to us after she went missing—made nocomment.
Tom rang me back—he was in between meetings,he couldn’t come home. He tried to placate me, hemade all the right noises, he told me it was probablya load of rubbish anyway. “You know you can’tbelieve half the stuff they print in the newspapers.” Ididn’t make too much of a fuss, because he was theone who suggested she come and help out with Eviein the first place. He must be feeling horrible.
And he’s right. It may not even be true. But whowould come up with a story like that? Why wouldyou make up a thing like that? And I can’t helpthinking, I knew. I always knew there was somethingoff about that woman. At first I just thought she wasa bit immature, but it was more than that, she wassort of absent. Self-involved. I’m not going to lie—I’mglad she&rsquo............