Page 18 of The Stranger in Room Six

And so, their stories began. They talked in Mabel’s room; they talked during walks through the gardens; sometimes they even talked in low voices in the canary-yellow library, surrounded by shelves of Rosamunde Pilcher and Maeve Binchy.

At first, the pace was somewhat halting, each of them being slightly nervous but also determined not to reveal too much. Mabel described the horror of searching in the rubble for her mother and sister, followed by her new life with her aunt.

‘You poor thing,’ said Belinda. She was so taken aback that somehow she found herself describing the shock of Karen’s phone call and the terrible events that had led to her pushing Gerald.

Mabel’s eyes had widened. ‘You should have explained it was an accident.’

‘I did,’ said Belinda, ‘but my lawyer still said it was manslaughter.’ Then she went rather pale. ‘But, please, you mustn’t tell anyone. Remember what we agreed?’

‘Of course, I won’t. But does the manager know you were in prison?’

‘No.’ Belinda went bright red. ‘I contacted someone I knew inside who was a professional forger and she made me a fake DBS certificate.’

‘What’s that?’

‘It says I don’t have any criminal convictions amongst other things.’

Mabel shivered. What would the law say if her own crime was discovered? Was it possible to send a nearly ninety-nine-year-old to prison?

Belinda, meanwhile, cursed herself for telling her story so readily. Was it because of nerves or because she wasn’t very good at telling lies? Now, if Mabel blabbed, Belinda would lose her job – something she needed for reasons that no one would understand.

‘You don’t have to worry, you know,’ Mabel said, noticing the concern on her companion’s face. ‘I like you and I want you to stay. Besides, I own this place. They have to do what I want.’

‘You own it?’ gasped Belinda.

‘I knew you didn’t believe me when I told you about the private beach. My aunt left me the whole estate when she died.’

Oh my God, thought Belinda. So I’ve just told the owner of Sunnyside that I’m a murderer and that I’m working here under false pretences.

If Mabel did let the cat out of the bag, Belinda would have to claim that the old woman was rambling. How could she have been so stupid?

Yet somehow, as time went by, the more they talked, the more each trusted the other, feeling as though a burden was being lifted.

It had been so hard to carry the weight of loss and wrongdoing over the years.

The wonderful thing about sharing, as Mabel pointed out, was that if one of them betrayed the other’s confidence, it would be easy to get revenge by doing the same. It guaranteed silence on both sides.

Each woman turned out to be a good listener, neither interrupting the flow but waiting until the other had finished, either through tiredness (usually on Mabel’s part) or because Belinda was needed elsewhere.

Sometimes when that happened, Mabel would put her foot down and remind the interrupter that she owned Sunnyside, and that if she wanted Belinda with her all the time, that was her right.

Belinda might not know it, but she would never hear the whole story. Mabel was determined to keep that final secret until – and beyond – her last breath.