Dark Waters: The addictive psychological thriller you won’t be able to put down. Mary-Jane Riley

      ‘So how are things going?’ Lin refilled Alex’s wine glass. ‘You seem tired.’

      Alex leaned back in her chair, running the tip of her finger around the rim of the glass. ‘Not too bad. It’s been an interesting day.’ She yawned, trying not to think of Heath Maitland and how annoying he was. And trying not to think of DI Berry who had merely glared at her and walked off when she’d tried to ask him a question. What a rude man. Listen to her – what an old woman she was turning into. ‘That was a lovely meal, thanks, Lin.’

      They were sitting in Lin’s kitchen, the folding glass doors open, the air soft and still. There was a faint smell of the sea and the odd sounds from the road were of people talking, footsteps, a dog barking, rather than actual traffic. The scent of honeysuckle drifted in. Alex was full and sleepy. Must be relaxed, she thought. Even the kitchen, which was peaceful with its off-white and duck-egg blue décor and a couple of Lin’s oil paintings on the wall, was neat and ordered as though no cooking had gone on there, despite the ravioli in pesto sauce topped with mozzarella cheese and accompanied by a side salad Lin had made.

      Lin put down her glass and seemed to steady herself. ‘Look. I didn’t tell you the whole truth about where I’d been for the last few days.’ She chewed her bottom lip.

      ‘What do you mean?’ She had never seen Lin look so vulnerable.

      ‘I did go on a course like I said, but I also went to visit my brother. My younger brother. In Craighill. It’s a unit for people with mental health problems. He has schizophrenia and hasn’t been taking his medication properly so …’ The words came out all in a rush. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

      Alex sat up, her tiredness gone. ‘Lin—’

      Lin held up her hand. ‘I don’t want your pity.’

      ‘I’m not—’

      ‘It’s difficult to tell people, you see. I don’t normally do it. People don’t understand. It’s not like having a broken arm or something that you can see and that you know will be mended in a few short weeks. But I thought we were becoming good friends and it’s a relief to say it. I can’t keep it bottled up any longer, not from you.’ She gave a little hiccup. ‘I used to tell people and they would drop me as their friend, as if it was contagious or something like chickenpox or herpes.’ She looked at Alex. They both giggled. ‘You know what I mean.’

      Alex reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘What’s his name?’

      ‘Name?’

      ‘Your brother.’

      ‘Bobby.’ She sniffed. ‘There. Now you feel sorry for me. I can’t have that.’ Her smile was wobbly.

      ‘I don’t feel sorry for you.’

      ‘Yes, you do.’

      Alex looked at Lin. If her friend had heard any gossip about her then she was keeping a pretty good poker face about it. Normally Alex didn’t like talking about what Sasha had done to her family – her whole family – and, deliberately, she didn’t easily invite confidences, but Lin was watching her with pain in her eyes and Alex wanted to reach out to her. Could she do it, though? Could she really expose herself and her life to a relative stranger? But Lin was her friend, and you should trust friends, right? She took a deep breath. ‘I don’t feel sorry for you because I know what it’s like to have someone close to you who has mental health problems.’

      ‘A bit batty, you mean?’

      Alex smiled. ‘Something like that. My sister, Sasha, has been very ill over the past few years.’

      ‘How so?’

      ‘She suffers – suffered – from severe post-natal depression. These days it would be called post-partum psychosis because she … um …’ Alex’s throat filled up with tears. She swallowed hard. ‘She killed her children. They were twins. Four years old. And she’s been getting treatment in a mental health unit. The judge was very kind to her. During the trial.’ She waited for the gasp of shock and horror from Lin, but none came.

      ‘That must be so hard for you.’ The hand she had reached out to Lin was now being squeezed, and Lin’s careful tone pulled Alex back from the brink. She was able to tell Lin the story of how Sasha had drowned her twins in the North Sea more than fifteen years earlier, how two people were jailed in connection with their murder. How neither of those two people lived to see Sasha tell the truth. The truth that had only come out two years ago.

      ‘Was there ever a part of you that over the years thought Sasha had killed her babies?’

      Alex didn’t know how to answer that. It was something she had asked herself over and over again. Had she turned a blind eye to what Sasha could be capable of? Had she been lying to herself for years? Alex couldn’t fully answer those questions, which was why the guilt still haunted her however much she told herself she had dealt with it.

      ‘Look, it was unfair of me to ask you that,’ said Lin.

      ‘No, it’s perfectly fair but I don’t know the answer. And I feel guilty about that. That and the fact the children were taken from my garden while I was in bed with a man.’

      Lin gave a low whistle. ‘Right.’

      ‘A man who was arrested for their murder but died in prison.’

      ‘God, woman, it sounds like something off Jeremy Kyle.’ Her friend was obviously trying to lift the atmosphere and Alex liked her for that. Lin stood up. ‘I know what you need.’

      ‘My bed?’ said Alex, hopefully. All this confessional stuff was exhausting. Yet liberating too. She felt as though some of what she called her cloak of doom had been peeled away from her shoulders.

      ‘A bit of fresh air. Come on, let’s go to the beach.’

      ‘Really?’

      ‘Yes. I want to know all about what you were doing today and also what else is on your mind.’

      ‘What else?’

      ‘Yep. What else. And my guess is that it’s something to do with that troublesome sister of yours. Either that or a man.’

      Alex laughed. ‘What are you? A mind reader?’

      ‘So it’s a man?’

      ‘No.’ But talking about Sasha had brought her to the forefront of her mind. A problem she had to solve. She didn’t want to think about it now.

      ‘Come on.’ Lin grabbed the wine bottle and two clean glasses from the cupboard. ‘Let’s go and blast the cobwebs away.’

      ‘Hardly blasting,’ grumbled Alex, standing. ‘There’s no wind and it’s quite warm.’

      ‘All the better, then,’ said Lin. ‘Come on.’

      The walk to the prom and down onto the beach took them less than ten minutes. There were still plenty of people around enjoying the unseasonably warm evening. Lin settled down with her back up against the wood of a groyne and pushed the glasses and bottle into the sand. Gulls still wheeled and screamed above them, and the sea whispered on the shingle at the shoreline.

      Alex sat. ‘I love the sea. Because it’s always there, coming in, going out. It’s dependable.’

      ‘Dependable?’

      ‘You know what I mean. The tide going in and out has been happening for millions of years, and it’ll go on happening. Long after human beings have become extinct. Puts things in perspective somehow.’ She picked up the wine Lin had just poured and took a sip. She looked around in the fading light. It wasn’t far from here that Sasha had waded into the sea with her two babies and just let them – drown. She shivered.

      ‘Cold?’

      ‘I’m fine,’ said Alex, putting the memory back in its box.

      ‘So?’ Lin raised her