Trust Me (Trust Me, Find Me 1)

Suddenly, I get a sinking feeling.

Please, God! Please don’t let Callista be sick too.

Her deep eyes meet mine.

“I need to give you something.”

In her hand is a familiar-looking cream envelope. And it’s addressed to me.

“It’s from Mam.”

Cal nods grimly.

Hesitantly, I tear the top of the envelope, revealing a handwritten letter inside. My hand is shaking as I pull it out.

“Why haven’t you given me this before?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Why d’you want me to read it now?”

I steady myself as I start to read it.

Dear Annie,

If you’re reading this letter then something’s happened.

A person has many friends, but only a few you’d trust your life with. They’re your soulmates. Cal is one of those to me, and I love her dearly. She’s promised to look after you when I’m gone, and I know she will. So don’t blame her for not giving you this letter sooner.

I never wanted to write it down, but then I worry about that young man who’s been so good to me. Without him, I’d be locked up now, instead of spending my last days with you.

And it’s been so precious, our time together, Annie.

You’ve no idea how much I missed you over the years. Wondering what you were up to. Hoping you were happy. Happier than I’ve been, anyway.

When I first got my diagnosis, one of my hospital friends - I won’t say who, they got me some insulin. I saw it as a way out if I needed it. It was all my idea. I was depressed and your father was difficult. It’s not an excuse, but you saw him at Christmas.

The man was ill. God knows I’ve excused him so many times over the years. But the truth is, as you know, Annie when he was drunk, your father was a nasty piece of work. That wasn’t the condition or the alcohol. It was him.

I’ll never forgive him for that terrible beating he gave you with his belt after you came in late that time, cariad. Still makes my blood boil, it does.

And Sion’s been good to me. He saw straight away what was going on. He’s been through it too, you see, with his father. We’ve talked a lot. More than to anyone else, and it’s helped us both.

The night your father died; he’d been hitting the bottle hard all day. I was making him supper when he barged into the kitchen, catching me unawares. And I could tell he was gunning for me.

He stood there, by the door, me cornered by the stove. There was no way out. So, I went to make him a cuppa, trying to keep things normal, calm him down. ‘Course that just wound him up even more.

Then, I saw him going for the kettle. And it wasn’t to make the tea. He’d poured scalding water on me once before and I’d had the most painful burns for weeks.

Thinking about that, made me flip. I’m not sure what possessed me, except survival? I knew how bad it was going to hurt, you see.

I’d hidden the insulin and a syringe behind the butter in the fridge. And I filled it now, sticking the needle in my cardigan pocket when I got the milk for our tea.

I was right. When I set the milk down and turned around for the mugs, he came at me with the boiling kettle.

Annie, I swear to God, cariad, it was self-defence.

He pushed me and I staggered back onto the floor. He came at me again, when I was on my knees. Pulling me up one-handed, he lifted the kettle to pour over my face.

And I stabbed him in the neck.

It took a couple of seconds to kick in. He was grabbing at his neck like he’d been stung, spilling boiling water all over the floor. He was grabbing at me too, but I’d ducked out of his way. And then, he suddenly keeled over onto the floor.

I put him in recovery, and I should’ve called an ambulance. But, God help me, I didn’t. I can’t even remember driving to the cottage for help. Jac was in The Cross Keys and Sion had just got home. He drove me in his car back to the house. He checked Glyn, but he was already gone.

I was in a state, but Sion was calm. So, I asked him to help me. And he did. He hung him up from the shed beam and cleaned everything up tidy.

‘Course the detective was quite right about the rope and Glyn’s slippers.

I wanted to take this with me to my grave. But, I hope telling you what happened will set things straight.

Annie, I hope that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me, cariad.

I love you so much and I always will.

Mam x

Glassy-eyed, I hand the letter to Jac. And then to Callista. The truth sits between us on the table. My mother killed my father.

“When did you find out?”

Callista fiddles with the envelope.

“That night. She phoned me.”

“And you never told me?”

“It wasn’t for me to tell.”

“That’s the thing.”

Folding the letter back into the envelope, I leave Jac and Cal and take it with me into the kitchen.

In the fierce blue flames of the gas hob, the envelope instantly catches alight.

I carry it back into the garden as it begins to burn away.

The yellow flames quickly devour the letter, the words disappearing into blackness and the air.

As my fingers start to burn, I throw it onto the stone patio where the pieces lie like petals on the ground.

“Annie, darling!”

Callista stares at the charred fragments.

Jac shifts his gaze from his mother onto me.

“Doesn’t she deserve to know the truth?”

Sighing, I shake my head.

It’s not for me to tell Claire.

The story continues in Find Me by Nell Grey, Trust Me's exciting finale.