The Best of Friends, Alex Day [feel good books to read .txt] 📗

Hegarty was away on a family holiday with her children, ultimately he turned you down. When you found out that the couple were trying to make up, to make a go of things, to rekindle their romance, you flipped. I put it to the court that you lost your mind and your anger – not for the first time in your life – became uncontrollable. You decided then and there to put a stop to it.’

The court is on tenterhooks, utterly silent, the weight of expectation hanging thick and heavy in the stuffy air.

‘Mrs Hegarty never once suspected that you, the person who, though you had not known one another that long, had quickly become her best friend, was trying to steal her husband away from her. She could not possibly imagine what hatred lived within the depths of your heart, what cruelty you are capable of.’

‘Objection!’ My barrister’s voice rings out. ‘This is no time for melodrama and hyperbole.’

The judge nods. ‘Please keep to the facts,’ he says.

My legs are quivering, wobbling as if they might give way. I don’t understand what is happening, how they are making such a convincing case against me when it’s all lies. No one realises that this is how justice works, that it hangs on who has the silkiest tongue, the most velvety words.

The QC’s face is emotionless as he resumes. ‘You poisoned their curry with hemlock you had gathered locally; you were well aware of where it grew and how toxic it is. Mr and Mrs Hegarty ate the curry.’

‘No!’ My voice is overly loud in the still, stifling air of the courtroom. ‘No, it’s not true.’

My defence team look towards me as one, horrified. The chief barrister makes a gesture that clearly says, ‘Shut up.’

‘Please could I request that all those in the courtroom are silent during the closing statements,’ commands the judge, reprovingly.

The QC takes a deep breath and, with a flick of his gown, continues. ‘Very soon the effects became apparent: a gradual paralysis of the limbs and the organs, but the victim remaining conscious to the last. Mr Hegarty was only saved by Mrs Hegarty’s fearless journey through the stormy night to the hospital, and the prompt treatment he received once there from the paramedics, doctors, and nurses. Fortunately, Mrs Hegarty, who had barely eaten any of the curry herself, was minimally affected.’

The QC turns to me. I’m crying now, silent tears seeping from my eyes and down my cheeks. My head is in my hands, my blonde hair all awry, sodden strands sticking to my forehead and my face. I can sense the lack of sympathy in the stultifying air of the courtroom; it is like a thousand knives in my back. I rejoiced at this when it was aimed at Charlotte. Now pointed in my direction, it’s a different matter altogether.

Pausing only for a moment, the QC directs his gaze back to the jurors. ‘Hemlock, as many of us know, was the poison of choice of the ancients. It has not been used in a British poisoning case for many years, though another plant, a genus of wolfsbane, was used in a very similar crime in 2009. In that instance, the victim died.’

His voice, up to this point, has been measured, calm. Now it rises in volume and urgency as he addresses his comments directly to me. The theatricality of his actions is hard to ignore.

‘Exactly what you hoped to achieve by what you did is unclear. As you have continued to protest your innocence, it is possible that we will never know. But the effects of what you have done will leave a lasting legacy on your victims for years to come.’

It won’t. There are no lasting effects. You will be fine; so will Dan. It’s all lies. Once more, I am silenced quickly when I start to shout this out.

A profound hush descends on the room. There is no possibility other than a guilty verdict.

Chapter 50

Charlotte

I read out my victim impact statement to the court. I have to take a few deep breaths to steady myself before I begin. My voice is strained and tight throughout. Frequent pauses occur whilst I forcibly suppress my tears. I conclude with the most powerful line of all: ‘You tried to destroy our lives, but in the end, you destroyed your own.’

The judge gives a term of fourteen years. It’s very reasonable, all things considered.

We leave the courtroom together, Dan and I, arm in arm. United. Everything you didn’t want us to be. I manage to quash the urge to smile until we are out of sight of the cameras massed outside in the street. It wouldn’t be good to be seen to be gloating, when the eyes of the world are upon us. Interest in the case has grown and grown, and it’s built into a major story. Someone will probably turn it into a Hollywood movie. I wonder who will play me. Cate Blanchett would be good, but she’s a little too old now, and too fair for me really. Anne Hathaway? So beautiful and talented, she’d be ideal. As for you, obviously Nicole Kidman leaps to mind. Fittingly blonde, and her character’s cold pursuit of her aims by any means necessary in To Die For mirrors your manipulative murdering soul to perfection.

The whole business has done Dan no harm, either – he’s busier, and richer, than ever. It’ll make my book – nearly finished now – a bestseller. Shame yours will never see the light of day.

Back home, I wrap my arms around my husband.

‘I’m cold,’ I say. ‘Let’s have a sauna.’

Since Dan paid off my debts, I’ve rekindled my enjoyment in the sauna and we’ve recently had it upgraded, and a steam room complex installed. It helps both my back and Dan’s stressed and work-sore limbs. I can really recommend it to anyone. It’s worth every penny of the thirty thousand it’s cost us. It doesn’t remind me of my peccadilloes anymore,