‘What?’
‘You heard me,’ I say firmly. ‘You’ve not left this town since ... well, since I got ill. You deserve a break. I’ll even pay for it. You can pack a bag and leave right now.’
‘I’m not leaving! We need to go out and celebrate together! You’re cured, Zoe. This isn’t the time for me to leave!’
‘Actually it is.’ I take a deep breath and tell myself I’m being cruel to be kind. ‘Your mothering makes things worse.’
She gapes. ‘What?’
‘You know, all the checking up on me and the doctors and the hovering ... it’s kind of suffocating sometimes.’
She looks so hurt that I almost start crying. ‘Zoe, I...’
‘Go away on holiday for a couple of weeks and enjoy yourself. That way I’ll be able to finish healing and when you’re back and I’m really better, we can celebrate.’
‘But...’
I force myself to meet her eyes. ‘Please. I think it will help me. I need to do this alone.’
‘I’m your mother,’ she says bewildered. ‘I need to be here.’
‘No. You don’t.’ I say it so flatly that she recoils.
‘If that’s what you really want,’ she whispers.
‘It is.’
***
I bundle her off in a taxi as quickly as I can. She still seems hurt and every time I look at her, I feel a sharp pain in my chest. I don’t have the time to make her see the truth. She needs to be safe.
The second the taxi is out of sight, I start walking back into town again. I’m careful, traversing the small alleys and worn paths that I used to mess around in when I was a child. I can’t risk the Mayor driving past in his shiny car and spotting me. It takes me far longer to get to the police station than it should but it gives me time to work out a plan.
I’m bloody terrified – but at this stage I don’t feel I have much of a choice. The Mayor is on my tail and it’s only a matter of time before he catches up with me. Between Esme’s apathy and the other Travellers’ combination of fear and misplaced trust, I need to do this on my own. I’m not even sure I can count on Dante or Bron to help me out; I might not be able to trust them either. All the same, when I’m finally standing in front of the familiar police station, I almost have a change of heart. Then I stiffen my resolve and walk inside.
The desk sergeant looks bored. ‘Can I help you?’ he asks politely.
I clear my throat. ‘I’d like to speak to Sergeant Rawlins, please.’ There’s a tremor in my voice. He raises his eyebrows, curiosity in his eyes. I stand straighter. ‘The sooner the better.’
He regards me sombrely for a moment then picks up a phone and mutters into it. I take a seat. This could go very badly for me in the long run but the Mayor has forced my hand. I have to do this.
It seems an eternity before she appears. When she does, there’s the same expression in her eyes. She thinks I’m a dangerous freak who’s manipulating her mind. She may not be entirely wrong. I stand up and wipe my sweaty palms on my trousers.
‘What can I do for you now, Ms Lydon? Would you like to report another strange death? Or perhaps one of your neighbours is pilfering items?’ She drops her voice and stares at me malevolently. ‘Maybe you want to tell me more about my own psyche.’
I can’t blame her for reacting like this. There are a lot of things I should have done to handle this better. I remind myself to breathe and look her in the eyes. ‘I want to confess to murder. I’m responsible for the deaths of Dean Salib and Thomas Miller.’
Chapter Eighteen
They say if you dream a thing more than once, it’s sure to come true.
Disney’s Sleeping Beauty
––––––––
After using my one phone call to make sure someone will look after the Chairman, I meet my solicitor again. Andrew Brown has an air of giddy excitement; he does his best to contain it but it fills the small room. I guess he’s never had to defend an alleged murderer before.
‘What you need to tell me, Ms Lydon, is why you’ve confessed. The police had already decided not to question you further. You were free. Now, well frankly, you might have to spend the rest of your life behind bars.’
I hope it won’t come to that. Right now, however, I’m not worrying about tomorrow, I’m just focusing on making it to the end of the day without being killed. Being stuck in a prison cell is the best I can manage. Unless the Mayor also happens to be a police officer in real life, this is about the safest place in the world – and it will enable me to put my hastily cobbled together plans into action.
I tread carefully. ‘The guilt was just too much.’
He seems disappointed. ‘So you’re planning to plead guilty.’ He can obviously see his dreams of a sensational murder trial disappearing before his eyes.
‘I already confessed, right?’