‘Third-party involvement?’
Anxiety fluttered in Diana’s belly. The police had spent at least an hour interviewing her in Notting Hill. She thought it had been to get the fullest possible picture of the night that Julian had died, but had it actually been done with a different agenda?
Ralph held up a steadying hand. ‘He said that further enquiries should take six to eight weeks, after which they’ll hold the full inquest. Should be around mid-July.’
Mrs Bills came in with a tray, which she put down on the antique console table.
‘So what happens now?’ asked Diana, trying to calm herself.
‘The coroner’s office will collect information, make a date for the hearing. Some of us will have to go to court, unless the coroner thinks that’s not necessary, although I have spoken to my lawyer and it’s likely that you will have to give evidence,’ added Ralph, glancing at Diana.
She looked away, feeling sick. The idea of it, of standing up as a witness to recount the events of that night . . . It was bad enough going over and over it in her own head, but to share it in public, to answer questions about their relationship in front of strangers?
‘I can’t,’ she said quietly.
Ralph looked solemn. ‘I have to say I agree with you. I don’t know what public inquests achieve other than more heartbreak.’
‘The point is to get to the bottom of what’s happened,’ said Elizabeth brusquely. ‘Isn’t that more important than some bruised feelings?’
‘Elizabeth, please. We know what’s happened,’ snapped Ralph, his cheeks reddening slightly.
Diana frowned. ‘You know? What do you mean?’ she asked, catching a look of complicity between father and daughter.
‘Julian’s depression,’ said Elizabeth flatly.
Diana could feel the slow rise of panic. ‘Julian wasn’t depressed,’ she replied.
Ralph met her gaze. He looked crestfallen, deflated. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t obvious at the time, but yes, Julian had depression,’ he said.
‘I think I know my husband.’
Ralph looked across at Sylvia. ‘Could you give me a moment alone with your daughter? Elizabeth, you too.’
Elizabeth looked reluctant, but finally she and Sylvia left the room. Ralph pushed himself up on his walking stick and came over to sit next to Diana.
‘Julian suffered from depression,’ he said softly. ‘Before you.’
Diana didn’t know how to react. It was as if Ralph was talking about someone she didn’t know. She had always felt like an outsider in this family, and even now, even after Julian’s death, she was discovering that she had been locked out of their secrets, this bond they shared. But as she looked into the old man’s pale grey eyes – Julian’s eyes, she realised – a little cloudy from tears, she knew that there was no unkindness in his words.
‘There was a period during his time at Oxford when Julian found it difficult to cope,’ said Ralph. ‘Our doctor put him on antidepressants – only for a short time, but it alerted us to the fact that he was prone to dark spells.’
‘But if he was struggling, I would have noticed,’ said Diana. ‘I mean, he hasn’t been like that since he’s been with me.’
‘That’s true,’ nodded Ralph. ‘I’m no expert on psychiatric illnesses, but I believe the weakness was there.’
It was unbelievable. She could see why the family would keep quiet about Julian’s so-called ‘weakness’, but why hadn’t Julian himself told her?
Ralph seemed to read her thoughts. ‘No one knew about it except Julian, myself, my wife and the family doctor. Even Elizabeth and Adam were left short on the details. We never wanted it to come out because we always knew he would be CEO one day and we didn’t want anything to jeopardise that. You know how jumpy shareholders can be.’
‘But I just don’t believe he was depressed,’ said Diana, feeling utterly bewildered.
‘Please, Diana,’ said Ralph, touching her hand. ‘Don’t.’
‘Don’t what? Question my husband’s mental state? Why shouldn’t I? Because you’re telling the truth, or because you don’t want any more publicity?’
She saw his face harden.
‘It is the truth. But you’re right, we certainly don’t want this all played out in public. Both for the business and for the sake of Julian’s memory.’