Page 68 of After the Accident

There was my mother, who endured and tolerated all this, even though she was dying.

There was my brother, who had probably tried to kill our dad to protect an inheritance. Who had literally just tried to kill his sister.

Then there was me. The woman who killed her baby son because she’d had too much to drink and then got into a car. The woman whose husband left because he couldn’t bear to look at her any longer.

And I thought about what I should say.

Julius:It was only later that I found out Emma supposedly has an alibi for that night Dad fell. It took me a while to put things together – but then I found out the person giving her the alibi is the person who works for you.

Emma keeps talking about who benefits – but it’s you, isn’t it? It’s Garibaldi Media. It’syourmovie.

And that’s when I put it all together.

There are a few things that could have happened that first night. Option one is that Dad fell. I don’t believe that – and neither does he any longer.

Second, Emma used Paul as an alibi and then snuck out of the room when he was asleep. She stumbled across Dad on the cliffs and took her chance. It’s not that hard to believe. She was never the favourite child and then, after what happened with her son, Dad never looked at her the same way again.

Third – and I think this is the most likely – Emma and Paul were in on it together. You were making a documentary and he thought it would make for a better story. I know you might not want to believe it, but there it is.

Do you have a better version of events?

Emma:I wondered if I should tell her about all the things I’d just challenged Julius about. If I should mention what had just happened upstairs on the balcony.

I wondered if she would believe me – because it would always come down to my word versus his. My word versus her favourite’s.

The lift pinged and Julius came out, dragging his case behind him. He walked through the lobby, focused only on me, with the wheels of his case bumping across the tiled grooves. And then, suddenly, he was in front of us: a triangle of me, him and Mum. He was breathing loudly, still struggling for breath, and he said: ‘We’re family.’

I know it doesn’t sound like much – but it was a declaration of war. As if he was saying: ‘This is us and this is what we do. Like it or leave.’

It was so simple and all I could reply was: ‘Yes. Yes, we are.’

And wearefamily – except, if I had to like it or leave, then there was only ever going to be one decision.