Page 128 of The Stranger in Room Six

In January I receive a postcard from Mabel. It shows sunny blue skies and a matching sea. She writes in that spidery writing that the elderly appear to have perfected:

I think of you a lot, Belinda. I am coming to terms with your betrayal, and I forgive you now.

I hope you can find peace as I have. I don’t think I’m coming back.

At this time of my life, my body is only made for a one-way journey.

Besides, Britain is too cold for my bones.

Harry is coming out to visit shortly. I feel guilty that he lost his seat but he says this was not necessarily due to the scandal and that it was time for him to leave politics anyway.

He’s going to dedicate his time to voluntary causes now.

I put the postcard on the mirror in the room I now share with Imran, next to a photograph of my grandson.

Gerry and I often go out for lunch together. He doesn’t seem fazed about what he calls ‘the family skeleton’. ‘I mean it’s not cool that you killed my granddad but Mum says you didn’t mean to.’ His eyes seem to gleam with curiosity. ‘What was it like in prison?’

‘Awful,’ I say. ‘Make sure you never do anything illegal. It’s not worth it.’

He laughs as if I am joking.

‘I mean it,’ I say firmly.

Then I receive a text from Stephen.

It’s wonderful to have found my sisters. They’re my only link to Dad.

I don’t question my girls about it. I reckon that if they want to tell me, they will. But they don’t. Maybe it’s easier that way.

Despite her ‘ought to try again’ words on Christmas Eve, I never hear from Gillian directly. Perhaps I just have to accept that some crimes are too big to forgive.