“So, you came here at night, I presume alone, to hear my findings,” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“Well I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell. Your friend Annette is dead. Her sister claimed the body and arranged for the funeral. The son, Richard, now resides with his Aunt in Winchester.”
Caroline smiled. “So, the boy is fine?”
“He is. I saw himself.”
“Her death was natural?” She asked.
Val hoped to hide the truth from her but as she asked outright, he knew he could not. “No.”
“No?” Caroline’s brows furrowed. “What did she die of?”
Caroline scarcely heard the words. “That can’t be right. Not suicide.”
“Miss Derry.” He came from behind the desk. “I spoke to the coroner myself. There is no doubt.”
“How?” She met his eyes.
“Caroline.” He said in a voice that was almost pleading.
“How?”
“She slit her wrists,” he said even as Caroline slumped forward in his arms.
“No.” She said feeling weighted.
“I’m sorry.” He held her to him to comfort her.
“She only needed to wait a little longer.” Caroline told him.
“For what?”
“The housing project. I was saving a place for her. It would have changed her life.”
“You don’t know that. She’s lived a certain way for a long time. It’s what she knew. It’s how she survived.”
“That ended so well,” she said angrily.
“You can’t blame yourself,” he said pressing her hair back from her forehead.
She gave him a searching look which stopped his hand and he withdrew it.
“That’s right. You don’t give me a moment’s thought,” he said at the look and recalled her words.
“You’re twisting my words. I said I didn’t give your indiscretion a moment’s thought.”
“Same thing.” He shrugged. “But let me ask you this,” he said. “How can it be that my heart skips a beat just at the sight of you and then you, well, you seem to feel extreme disdain for me.”
Caroline jolted at his words and their eyes met. “I don’t feel disdain for you.”
“Condescension then.”
“That’s not true either.”
“Then what? What do you feel for me?” He asked.