‘Let’s just say Georgia has it right and Clarissa wasn’t raped. Why would Clarissa lie about it? Imagine the shame that must have been attached to rape back then. Why bring all that down on yourself?’
Amy shrugged.
‘And to destroy Edward’s life like that? Clarissa would have to be cold as ice. Even if he hadn’t died in the Far East, it was a sic
k allegation to make.’
Amy had thought all the same things herself and she didn’t know the answers.
‘People in love, rejected people, jealous people, angry people, they’ve done a lot worse. You only have to read the papers,’ she said finally.
Will drained his beer and looked at her.
‘But these people are my family, Amy. They’re respectable people.’
She appreciated how difficult this must be for him to take on board.
‘Maybe they are in many ways,’ she said as gently as she could. ‘But Clarissa was young, buzzing with hormones, feeling snubbed – young people can do some crazy, impulsive things. They think about the rewards, not the consequences. And with Edward discredited, Clarissa married Christopher and got everything she ever wanted. The stately home, the title, the admiration of her family. That’s the sort of prize that could make you do some pretty mad stuff.’
Will stood up, pacing up and down. Amy could see he was struggling with it.
‘We need to do something,’ she said.
‘Do what?’ he asked, shrugging in exasperation. ‘Even it’s true – and how will we ever know for sure? – Clarissa and Christopher, if he knows what really went on, aren’t exactly motivated to tell us the truth, are they?’
‘So you think it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie?’ said Amy sarcastically.
‘Tell me the options, Amy. Confront Aunt Clarissa and call her a liar?’
‘Perhaps that’s exactly what we should do,’ she said, feeling her cheeks turn pink with fury. ‘Then maybe Georgia will get to hear the truth. Maybe she’ll get some closure finally. Don’t you want justice? For Georgia? For Edward? For everything that was taken away from them?’
Will stared out of the window, as if he was thinking. When he turned and looked back at her, she could see the conflict on his face and she could sympathise. Here she was, a virtual stranger, turning up in his tidy little life, begging him to chuck an emotional grenade into his family. It was crazy, wasn’t it? If their positions had been reversed, Amy was pretty sure she would have thrown him out on to the street long before now.
‘There’s a party,’ he said finally. ‘It’s at their house.’
‘You’ll help me to do something?’ said Amy, running up to him and throwing her arms around him. He smelt nice. Like Christmas trees and soap.
‘All right, all right,’ he said gruffly, stepping away from her.
‘So what’s the plan?’
He walked over to the mantelpiece and handed her a stiff white card.
You are invited to a New Year’s Eve celebration
Stapleford
31 December
8 p.m.
Black tie
‘This is pretty much the only time we are guaranteed to get Clarissa and Christopher on the spot before Easter. They have a house in Antigua they usually disappear to in January, and stay there for three or four months. And if Georgia’s . . . well, maybe we can’t wait that long to do something.’
‘And what are we doing?’ asked Amy, looking up at him.
‘Probably wasting our time,’ said Will cynically. ‘Clarissa’s almost certainly not going to admit anything.’