The Serial Killer's Wife by Alice Hunter (best romantic novels to read .txt) 📗

seen together, about people gossiping, and so we’d conducted our relationship in private; we didn’t want to rock the boat by flaunting it. But here he is, openly at my side. He couldn’t bear to think of me alone in the courtroom, he’d said. His need to support me outweighed his concern about wagging tongues. Although, of course, we’re still being careful because we have the girls to think about.

Raised voices bring me back to the here and now. There are crowds of people outside the Crown Court waiting for me to walk out, and to bombard me with more questions.

‘We’d better get this over with,’ I say, giving him a squeeze, and then I release myself from his grasp. We leave the reception area of the court and walk outside. We don’t hold hands. The noise surges as I open the door, and grows as I make my way down the steps through the archway towards the waiting cameras.

‘How does it feel to be the one to put your own husband behind bars?’

Flashes. Groping. Pushing.

‘What is it like being the wife of a serial killer, Beth?’

Hands too close. Lenses in my face.

‘What are you going to do now?’

I almost look up.

This final question is the easiest to answer – and as much as I’d like to respond, I know I can’t tell them. I chew on my lip, tuck my chin down onto my chest, and allow Adam to drag me by the arm to the waiting cab.

‘If this is how people react every time you step outside, Beth, I’m going to have to rethink being your boyfriend,’ Adam jokes, as the car makes its way through the throng of people.

‘I think a quieter life is preferable, don’t you?’ I say.

‘Plan A still a go, then?’ He smiles at me.

I nod, then when we’re far enough away from photographers and film crews, I slide up to him and we kiss.

‘Thanks so much for having the girls, Constance.’

‘Oh, you’re welcome, Adam. Always a delight to have Jess. And Poppy kept me entertained with her animal stories,’ Constance says, laughing. ‘She is quite the little storyteller, isn’t she?’

I refrain from saying she takes after her father. ‘She is! I see a future in writing for her,’ I say, instead.

‘I’m going to miss Jess. And you, of course, Adam.’ Her eyes glisten with tears.

‘I promise we’ll visit, Constance. And anyway, we’ll both be back to sort out house sales. And Beth will be checking in on Poppy’s Place.’ Adam puts his arm over Constance’s shoulders and gives a gentle squeeze. ‘We will miss you, though, won’t we Jess?’

Jess wraps her arms around Constance’s legs and says she will. ‘But I really want to see the sea!’ she beams.

Adam’s parents retired to Devon, and after much discussion we’re convinced that the only way of being together, happily, with no interference, is to move out of Lower Tew. Away from the stares and gossip – free from the constraints of Tom’s notoriety and Camilla’s ghost. Not that she was in any way haunting us – it was more that other people were reluctant to let her go; to let Adam move on without putting in their two-penn’orth.

Particularly as he was choosing to move on with the wife of a serial killer.

Adam showed me the photos of his parents’ house in its wonderful seaside location and it immediately felt right. Their place isn’t huge, Adam had said, but they would accommodate us on a short-term basis until we found something else. In some ways everything had happened quickly between us – some might say we rushed – but in other ways, time had slowed, and each step we made felt precise and planned.

When he’d suggested Devon, I didn’t hesitate. It made perfect sense.

‘I can work from home, but I don’t know what you’ll do about the café, though?’ he’d said.

I did.

Lucy will make the perfect manager.

So, we’re doing what we have to do in order to be together.

‘How do you feel now it’s properly over?’ Adam says, handing me a champagne flute – this time filled with the real thing.

‘Cheers,’ I say. ‘Here’s to new beginnings.’ We clink glasses. ‘I’m feeling relieved. I’m feeling lucky. But it’s at a price, isn’t it? Those poor women.’ I lower my gaze.

‘You must never blame yourself – do you hear me? You didn’t know in time to save them. And when you did find out, you had to keep quiet to save yourself. You were really brave to tell the detective about the sweatshirt. We all make choices, Beth – we don’t always like all of them. Some things are for survival.’

‘Yeah, you’re right. Thank you.’ I note he doesn’t mention my knowledge of the whereabouts of Katie’s body. I know he understands my having been reluctant to take that information to the police, and even though I’d explained how it was more of a hunch than certain knowledge, I do think he feels awkward about me keeping it quiet once Tom was already in custody. I’m hoping now we won’t ever need to discuss it.

‘Now, drink up – we’ve a whole bottle to get through.’

‘A couple of glasses is fine, thanks. Let Constance have the rest.’ Another thing I need to change in my life is my alcohol consumption. It can get me into trouble. I’ve come to the uncomfortable conclusion I’m going down a similar path to my mother. Julia’s comments about me having necked the second bottle of Prosecco the night she came over made me panic. And I’d clearly said more than I should’ve. I must’ve let something slip. Hopefully nothing too damning …

I need to make a fresh start for me and Poppy with Adam and Jess. I need to distance myself from everything that’s happened.

Chapter 88

TOM

Now

Who the hell did she think she was? Sitting there, holier than thou – confidently eyeing the jury as she spouted lie after lie.

Never once did I control her. And manipulation? Bull. She is the