The Devil’s Dice. Roz Watkins

right. I did have lots of operations on my spine but I can’t remember. My baby photos would have been more at home in The Lancet than in a family album.’

      ‘Oh Hannah, I didn’t mean you. Of course I don’t think you should have been aborted.’ I looked over at Hannah, so lovely and full of life. I’d never admitted to her that being paralysed was one of my worst fears; that it woke me sweating in the night, tangled in sheets and gasping for breath; that I probably would abort a baby like her if I ever had to make that terrible choice.

      Hannah looked up and I followed her eyes. Jai, striding towards us.

      His voice sounded like he was being lightly strangled. ‘Meg, what happened? They say you bashed your head.’

      ‘I’m okay. It’s no big deal.’

      ‘I was leaving anyway,’ Hannah kissed me, somewhat frostily, and did a kind of wheelchair handbrake-turn before gliding away.

      Jai sat on the chair by my bedside. ‘Seriously, are you alright?’

      ‘I’m fine. How’s it going with the Hamilton case?’

      ‘Oh, there’s a suicide note. Richard’s wrapping it up. You don’t need to be involved.’

      I sat up, with some difficulty. My brain chugged. I’d forgotten. Just before I fell. The call from Kate Webster. ‘An email,’ I said hesitantly.

      ‘Yes, an email. All fairly clear cut.’

      No, it wasn’t. I was sure it wasn’t clear cut. ‘What did the email say?’

      ‘It was the usual stuff. Sorry, sorry, you’re better off without me and all that.’

      ‘How do we know someone hadn’t hacked his account? It just doesn’t have the feel of a suicide to me.’

      ‘He’d been behaving strangely, acting depressed, saying he was cursed. Richard’s happy with suicide.’

      ‘Come on, Jai.’ I could feel my brain clarifying. ‘One, have you ever tried to get cyanide? You can’t pick it up from Asda. Two, cyanide’s not a nice way to die—’

      ‘I thought they put it in those pills for spies.’

      ‘It’s quick, not nice. And C—’

      ‘You were doing one, two, three, not A, B, C.’

      ‘Give me a break. I’ve had a head injury. Three, have you seen where he lives? He could have just chucked himself off that cliff any time. Why bother with cyanide-infused cake?’

      ‘Trying to make it look unclear so it’s an open verdict and the wife gets the life insurance?’

      ‘Why the email then?’

      ‘You make a persuasive case for a woman recently bashed on the head, but it’s Richard you need to convince, not me. And he’s not expecting you in till Monday.’

      I sank back on my pillows. What I hadn’t said to Jai was – four, Mark Hamilton is a nice man with lots of dogs and cats, and he had an argument with his brother who is now dead, and I cannot let him think his brother committed suicide if it’s not true. No one should have to go through that.

      ‘I’ll go in tomorrow,’ I said. ‘And persuade Richard.’

      ‘Be careful, alright?’ He reached out and touched my arm. I instinctively pulled away and Jai withdrew his hand as if he’d touched a hot stove. I wanted to say sorry, I didn’t mean to pull away, but the moment was gone.