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‘I’m off to the solicitor’s,’ he’d called out, ‘it’s time I updated my will to make sure that Hugh and Harry inherit the lot.’ He’d waved an envelope in her face. ‘You can’t be trusted with finances but no doubt the boys will make some provision for you.’

‘Provision’, Kath knew, was a nursing home. She’d heard her sons discuss the subject many times when they thought she was badgering away in the kitchen, preparing yet another meal. As soon as the soil covered Jim’s coffin, she’d be packed off to spend her days propped up in a chair with other nameless souls whose pointless lives ebbed away in the dreary confines of a shared old folks’ home where time was a thief who stole what little you had left.

When Jim turned to leave, something in Kath had snapped. As he opened the door, she rushed forward and, grabbing the envelope, shoved her brutish husband hard with all her might. Startled, Jim tried to cling onto Kath, but she leapt back, and he lost his balance. The steps were steep, and Jim misplaced his footing. Kath watched the dead weight of his body fall, his eyes wide with fear, as he catapulted fatally to the ground.

Within seconds the envelope was buried in Kath’s pocket.

Within minutes, Jim was dead.

Time stood still as Kath gripped the rail, stupefied by the haunting memory. Jim had provoked Kath for months by telling her he was changing his will. She couldn’t have allowed him to travel to the solicitor that day.

Suddenly, she realised that Dicky was leering up in front of her. She saw his lips move and his teeth flash. He spoke with menace and told her how much money he wanted. Close now, Kath smelt Dicky’s stale boozy breath and felt the heat from his body. Then, without warning, Dicky raised his fists to gesticulate and rant.

Kath cowered, fearing a blow. Instinctively she thrust out her arms, and when her hands connected with Dicky’s chest, she pushed as hard as she could.

‘What the hell…’ Dicky swore as he stumbled on Kath’s bulky bag. His feet lost their grip, and still unsteady, he skidded backwards on the deck’s surface. Before she could reach out and stop him, Dicky had lost his balance and careered over the railing.

Kath was motionless, too stunned to move. One moment Dicky was yelling at her, and the next, he was gone.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ she blurted out. ‘What on earth have I done?’

Glancing around, Kath saw no one other than herself on the deck. Before she had time to linger and consider her actions, she reached down to grab her crumpled bag and raced back to Hibiscus.

ChapterThirty-Three

‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’ Jane said as she gripped Kath’s flapping arms and held her tight. ‘You can’t possibly have killed Dicky!’

Kath stood in the centre of the suite, her eyes closed and body trembling as she repeated that she’d pushed Dicky into the sea.

‘You couldn’t have done. Anne stood alongside, her face puzzled. ‘I was with him not a quarter of an hour ago.’ She looked at her drink and decided it was time to stop; her brain was befuddled, and she couldn’t make sense of Kath’s ramblings.

‘You don’t understand,’ Kath insisted. ‘Dicky knows what I’ve done!’

Jane, who’d returned to Hibiscus to get changed, shook her head. ‘I don’t have the foggiest notion of anything you are saying, but I suggest that you have a seat, take a deep breath, and tell us all about it.’ She took Kath’s shoulders and eased her onto a sofa. ‘That’s a good girl,’ she said as she sat beside Kath and motioned for Anne to sit too. ‘You’re with friends and whatever has happened can be sorted.’ She held out a glass of water for Kath to sip.

‘B-but it can’t,’ Kath stammered, ‘I’m a murderer...’ She pushed the water away.

Jane shrugged and looked to Anne, who shook her head and frowned.

‘Start at the beginning and tell us exactly what has happened and what you think you might have done.’ Jane spoke softly and stroked Kath’s arm.

Fifteen minutes later, Jane found herself sitting bolt upright, and Anne was sober.

‘Holy shit…’ Anne whispered, ‘are you sure Dicky went over the rail?’

‘Of course I’m sure,’ Kath replied. ‘He was very tipsy and when I pushed him, he stumbled over my bag and disappeared in a flash.’

‘O.M.G.’ Anne’s mouth fell open as she stared at Kath and blinked slowly.

‘Whoa…’ Jane stood up. ‘Firstly, we need to retrace your steps and see if there is any sign of Dicky, and if not, we may need to notify someone in authority that there might be a man overboard.’

‘But what about Jim?’ Kath sobbed. ‘Now you know the truth.’

‘Oh codswallop!’ Jane shook her head. ‘For heaven’s sake, please stop all thoughts of Jim’s death being your fault. The man had a very unfortunate accident and simply misplaced his footing. It could have happened to anyone. The steps to your house are terribly steep, as your postman told the police. We all know how forgetful you are. You’re confused, due to shock.’

But Jane had doubts, and as Kath’s tale of her husband’s will unfolded, she knew it was likely to be true. She remembered many occasions when Kath made excuses for a cut or bruise, saying she’d been clumsy in the kitchen or garden. Who could blame her for striking out at her bullying husband when he threatened to ruin what was left of her life? If Kath had managed to destroy Jim’s updated will, Jane could hardly blame her. She felt guilty that she hadn’t been a better friend over the years and realised that Kath was being abused.

But now was not the time to ponder on problems from the past, and Jane knew that swift action was necessary. More than ever, Kath needed her friends, and Jane was not about to let her down.