(2011) Only the Innocent by Rachel Abbott

thought later. She’d always been the same.
    Imogen placed an extremely large Cognac that Laura didn’t want on the table next to the sofa, and sat down beside her.
    ‘I’m sorry. That was tactless of me. But what are you going to tell the police? I’m here to give you the strength to go on. There are going to be moments when you really won’t know what to do. You’re going to have to deal with Alexa, then there’s the will, the funeral, no end of things to do. You’ll need somebody to talk to, and I’m the only person who understands.’
    Laura wasn’t quite ready to let Imogen off the hook yet.
    ‘Ah, but there’s the rub, Imo. You think you understand, but you actually don’t have the faintest clue.’
    They were hurting each other, and it was a pointless exercise. The damage was done, and sticking the knife in Imogen wasn’t going to help or change a thing. Perhaps the Cognac wasn’t such a bad idea. She took a mouthful and shuddered. She hated its cloying sweetness.
    ‘Look, I don’t want us to keep fighting. God knows my emotions are on enough of a roller coaster as it is. I do understand why you came, even though it was a crap idea. It was irresponsible and impulsive. And the police are definitely going to want to know why I was so horrified when you walked through the door.’
    ‘Then tell them the truth! Hugo hated me, your brother loathes me, I have been banned from this God-awful house for years - and your husband forbade you to speak to me ever again. And you were my best friend in the world. The truth is hideous enough without you trying to fabricate some unrealistic story.’
    Laura couldn’t help but agree. From the age of five right up until the first year of her marriage, she and Imo had been as close as any two friends could be. Imogen’s parents had moved from Canada into the house next door to Laura, and she could clearly remember the day they’d met. It had been one of the bad days in the Kennedy household, and Laura had crawled into her private den in the midst of an area of dense shrubbery at the bottom of their long garden, far enough away from the house so that she couldn’t hear the argument. She’d never heard a real live North American accent until she heard Imogen’s first words. ‘I saw you from my bedroom window, and thought you looked like you could use some chocolate. Can I come in?’ Laura must have said yes, because this smiley kid in denim dungarees came scuttling into the den on hands and knees and gave Laura a quick hug and a rather dirty packet of chocolate buttons. ‘You’d better tell me why you’re crying. ‘Cos I’m staying till you do.’
    And that set the pattern of their relationship. Imogen had discovered a gap in the hedge between their houses and said it could be their secret. Any time she wanted, Laura could wriggle through to come and play with her and she would do the same. From that day forward they had never been out of each other’s houses. Laura believed that she knew everything about Imogen and vice versa. But she was wrong.
    Imogen had never told Laura that from her early teens she was absolutely besotted with Will Kennedy, Laura’s older brother. And when her feelings were reciprocated, Laura had felt side-lined. It took her a while to forgive Imogen for harbouring such a secret, but their happiness was infectious. Her best friend and her brother were married when Imogen was just twenty years old, and they had remained just as smitten with each other until one dreadful night here in this very house.
    Now somebody was going to have to tell Will and her mother about Hugo. She hated the fact that Will had chosen to work in Africa, but thankfully her mother was on her way there for a visit. She should have arrived by now. God knows, she was never Hugo’s greatest fan, but Laura could really do without hearing her mother’s views on her choice of husband at this precise moment.
    ‘I need to tell Will, Imogen. And Mum. Otherwise they’re