91. Before

Lydia's guests had left the front door open. I locked it. I would walk round the whole house to close off their exits.

Tristan, Frances, Mina, Lydia, all in one house, all finally facing up to what they'd done. And Lydia was right. Prison wasn't enough. Prison wouldn't make them feel the pain they'd caused.

I started sloshing petrol, especially on the door-frames and windowsills. The stink of it filled my head.

It was time for all the fire in me to come out.

Except for one thing. Or two things.

Ava and Ash.

If Lydia had pulled it off, they were in there too.

Because they'd proved they were chips off the old block, were partially responsible for Jenna taking a shard of mirror to her wrist. Hadn't they essentially done to Jenna what their parents had done to me?

Come on, Georgia. It's not time to lose your nerve.

I picked up the blow-torch. Why should I spare my old friends, just because of their children? I had never had children, and why not? Because I'd never been able to get close enough to another human to even consider them.

But still.

But I would go to prison for this. For a long time.

But wouldn't that be a relief?

But, no Neil. No last golden days with my dad.

Just because they deserved it, didn't mean I had to do it.

I saw my mum dangling from the ceiling, swaying, lips parted, her beautiful hair hanging lank around her face covered in yellowing bruises.

And then I got my phone out of my pocket, found Lydia's message with the video and pressed play.