Read Accidents Happen for Free Online

reluctantly stood up.
    Sylvia blinked. ‘Kate, we still have forty minutes left.’
    Kate fumbled in her pockets. ‘You know, when Hugo died, they told me not to start bereavement counselling too early. They said I needed to process things first. And by that point, it hurt so badly, I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to cry any more. And I think that maybe that was a mistake now.’ She pulled out some money. ‘I came here because of the damage that decision has done to my son. And what do you do? I tell you these awful things, that I’ve told no one in five years, and you go into the kitchen . . .’ She gave Sylvia an astonished look. ‘. . . And you laugh.’
    Sylvia stood up. ‘Kate. I’m so sorry. Please sit down and we can talk a little more.’
    ‘No,’ Kate said, placing the money on the oak table and walking to the door. She waved a hand around the room.
    ‘You know, I imagine some of your clients might feel intimidated by this house. But the irony is that, if I wanted, I could buy it. That’s what happens when all the people around you are killed. You’d be amazed at how much money people give you. Like this horrible consolation prize. But, you know what? I’d give it all up to escape from this.’ She pointed at her head. ‘To feel like I used to, even for one day. To be a normal person again, and a decent mother.’
    A lump came into her throat. What had she said to this woman? What had she been thinking even coming here?
    ‘Kate!’ Sylvia exclaimed, standing up. ‘Please. I’m so sorry if you feel I’ve let you down. Could we discuss it a little more?’
    Kate held up her hand. ‘If you tell anyone what I told you, or talk to anyone about my son, I’ll deny I was ever here.’
    With that, she marched into the hall, picked up her helmet without caring whether it scratched the table or not, swung open the wooden door and slammed it behind her.
    Saskia came downstairs, shaking head in disbelief. She walked into the kitchen. Richard was reading a newspaper. Helen stabbed potatoes with a knife.
    ‘Have you talked to Jack about it?’ she asked quietly.
    Richard carried on reading, raising his eyebrows.
    ‘Dad tried, but he just looked embarrassed, poor pet,’ Helen replied. She stuck the knife in again. ‘Oh help, I’ve overdone these. Sorry, you lot.’
    The dots on her cheeks were a deep raspberry now, like a Russian doll’s. Her pale green eyes were watery.
    Saskia rested her hands on her father’s chair. ‘But it’s ridiculous,’ she whispered. ‘We’ve got to do something.’
    ‘Now now,’ Richard murmured, indicating the sitting room.
    ‘When then? He can’t live like this.’
    ‘I said, NOT NOW, darling.’
    His eyes darted to the hall. Jack was sticking his head round the door frame, watching. The theme tune from The Simpsons blared behind him.
    ‘Five minutes, Snores,’ Saskia called cheerily. ‘Go and wash your hands.’
    He nodded and disappeared upstairs.
    ‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked.
    ‘Set the table, will you, darling?’ her mother said. ‘I’ll have to mash these over the heat to dry them out.’ As she carried the pot to the sink, Saskia could see she was struggling not to drop it.
    Saskia spun round. She was sick of it. Seeing Dad, the powerful businessman who took nonsense from no one, walking around Kate on eggshells. Him and Mum summoning bright smiles and constantly calling her ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ in an attempt to diffuse the tense atmosphere their daughter-in-law created. Well, if they weren’t going to force Kate to see sense, she would.
    Saskia’s eyes settled on a closed door next to the sitting room. She checked the clock. Kate would be back after seven.
    That would do it. Send a message.
    Quietly, Saskia took down a tray from above the fridge and placed glasses, a jug of water and cutlery on it. Then she walked past the kitchen table where her father sat, and carried it to the hallway.
    She turned the handle