Fifty. Sephy

I sat down on the hard bench in the reception area of the police station, ignoring the contemptuous looks being thrown in my direction by the desk sergeant. Asking to see Jude was enough to condemn me in his eyes. Guilt by association. I looked down at the carpet, I studied the posters on the wall, I watched a spider scurry across the ceiling until it reached its web in one corner of the room. My gaze went everywhere – except towards the desk sergeant. I watched the people coming in and out of the station. A woman came in crying, holding her young son's hand as she wiped the tears away before approaching the sergeant. A man came in holding a bloody hankie to a gash on his forehead. An elderly Nought woman strode in and went straight up to the sergeant, banging her hand down before she'd even said a word to make sure she had the sergeant's full attention. And all the time I sat and watched but my thoughts were elsewhere. What was Jude saying to Meggie in there? Was he confessing all? Chance would be a fine thing. I had no doubt that Jude would say anything, do anything, be anything in his efforts to satisfy his insatiable hunger for revenge against all Crosses. Could he have killed Cara Imega? I didn't doubt that he was capable of it for a second. He'd shot my sister and he was more than happy to try and kill me.

And maybe if I'd let Minerva tell the police who'd really shot her, Cara Imega would be alive today. Maybe. I didn't like the direction my thoughts were taking me, so I forced myself to let them go and think of something else. I so wanted to get home and hold my daughter.

At last Meggie came out. I stood up with a smile, which faded at the expression on Meggie's face.

'Sephy, I need your help,' she began with obvious trepidation.

'Why? What's the matter?'

'I need to find out what evidence they think they have against Jude.'

I began to shake my head. 'The police are hardly likely to tell me . . .'

'But you know people. Couldn't you find out? I'm sorry to do this but I don't know who else to ask,' said Meggie.

'But why? Does Jude reckon he's being framed?'

Meggie shook her head. 'It's not so much that. Jude says he didn't do it.'

'And you believe him?' I asked.

'I believe in him,' said Meggie.

Which didn't answer my question. We left the police station and headed along the road to the bus stop in silence. Jude was vicious and vindictive, but Meggie couldn't or wouldn't see that.

'D'you think Jude killed Cara Imega?' I tried again.

'He swears he didn't do it. . .'

'And you believe him?' I couldn't help asking.

Meggie shook her head, looking me straight in the eye. 'He wouldn't lie to me.'

I said nothing.

'Will you help me? Please,' Meggie asked.

I sighed. 'I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything.'

'You'll find out the truth,' Meggie said, every word dripping with hope. 'I know you will.'

As I looked at her I couldn't help wondering whose truth she was after. Jude's, mine or her own?