The Woods, page 33
That’s the moment I’m trying to push away, that awful, awful truth.
I try to catch her. The moment I see her slip, arms thrown out to try to keep her balance, I reach out and try to catch her. I almost catch her hand, I feel my fingertips touch hers, but she’s gone, tumbling down in a landslide of mud and rock. I see her fall; I see her head smash on the rock. I see it and I know she’s dead. Her eyes are open and there’s all this blood. Mud and blood and Bella. Lying there with her eyes open and…
I stumble down after her, slipping and sliding, grabbing roots and jutting rocks to try to slow my descent, but the mud under my feet is a river and I’m going faster and faster. Falling, no longer climbing. I’m getting closer and I can see she’s dead and as my foot hits a rock and I go somersaulting, I’m thinking no, no, no, not real. Wake up, Tess. Wake up.
I open my eyes and I’m alone.
I remember.
We killed him.
Bella’s words in the woods. Her confession. The roar of the wind and rain sweeping through the trees. Bella’s voice as I stood there shaking, the roar of the wind sweeping through me, the roar and the rage. It swept through me and I pushed her, all the strength of the storm in my arms as I shoved…
As the whole awful memory stands before me, the words of the fairy tale come back. The final lines I’ve been hiding from for ten years: As the girl stood there alone, she realized she was the monster and not a little girl at all…
I thought Lena was the monster. And Max. And Greg Lewis. I thought they were the monsters Bella sent me to find.
But the monster is me. It’s always been me.
Dad is still downstairs, sitting in the dark kitchen, staring at nothing. I sit opposite him and take his hands.
“I remember,” I whisper.
He squeezes my hands. “Tess…don’t.”
“It was me, Dad. I did it. I was angry—we were arguing and I…pushed her and she fell. It was me. I killed Bella.”
It’s what I said to Dad at the hospital after Bella died. Not so coherent, confused enough that he could make himself dismiss it as nonsense muttered by a daughter with a head injury, a daughter drifting on morphine.
I did it but I never meant to…
Those words could have meant anything, couldn’t they? Muttered by sixteen-year-old me, lying in a hospital bed. It was nothing, that’s what Dad told himself because he couldn’t stand to think anything else.
“I’ll have to tell the police,” I say, tears pouring hot down my cheeks.
“No,” Dad says softly.
“Dad—I have to. Didn’t you hear me? It was me. I…”
“It was an accident. An accident. Just like they said it was. You didn’t mean to do it, did you?”
I shake my head.
“Tess…God, Tess.” Dad’s crying as well and I can’t bear it. Can’t bear what I’ve done to him. “I can’t lose you as well. I can’t. You’re all I have left. Please don’t leave me on my own. Please.”
I lay my head down and cry, painful sobs pulled from my chest, crying so hard it hurts. Dad cradles my head in his hands and strokes my hair and says it over and over. Please. Please don’t. Don’t leave me on my own.
I don’t know what to do.
I close my eyes and Bella is there, next to Dad, her eyes bright with tears.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I know. It’s okay, Tess,” she says. “You needed to remember but you can sleep now.”
Forgive me, my mind whispers.
Always, baby sis. Bella’s voice is fainter now. Now sleep…
I don’t know what to do. I have to tell the police, don’t I? But Dad is still crying and saying please don’t, please don’t leave me…
Stay. Bella’s voice again. Echoed by Julia’s, asking me to look after him. Stay. Live your new life and stay. Let it remain an accident.
“I can’t.” I say it out loud. “I’ll never sleep again if I hold this secret inside.”
Oh, Tess. Oh, baby sis…
I get Detective Levinson’s card out of my pocket, pick up my phone. I leave a short message before putting the phone down and turning to Dad.
“I’m sorry.”
For a second it feels like Bella’s squeezing my hand and then she’s gone.
I drift…
…the woods and the house that always wait for me when I close my eyes fade…
…and I sleep.
From the Western Vale News, August 2020:
TRAGIC TALE OF ARABELLA COOPER
REACHES ITS SAD CONCLUSION
When eighteen-year-old Arabella Cooper was found dead in the woods surrounding West Dean in 2008, her death was ruled an accident. But ten years later, in a series of shocking discoveries, the truth was uncovered. Greg Lewis, posthumously proved to be the “Babes in the Woods” murderer of Annie Weston and Nicole Wallace, was found to have been killed himself, by Arabella Cooper, aided by Helena and Max Rees, who were convicted of perverting the course of justice and withholding evidence of a crime. Lewis is also believed to have murdered missing teenager Rachel Wells, whose body has never been found. The final twist in the Lewis/Cooper case was when Tess Cooper came forward and confessed to pushing her sister during an argument, which resulted in her falling to her death.
This tragic tale reached its strange conclusion this week when Tess Cooper was quietly released from prison and was met by Sean Lewis, youngest son of Greg Lewis. It is believed she joined her father, who left West Dean soon after his daughter was arrested.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Once again, I’m hugely grateful to so many people for all the help and support with this book.
Special thanks to Lucy Dauman and Rosanna Forte, my editors at Sphere, and to Millicent Bennett at Grand Central for your wonderful support. I also want to acknowledge the sheer brilliance of all of the team at Sphere and Little, Brown, especially Thalia, Gemma, and Stephanie.
Of course, none of this would have happened if it weren’t for my super-agent Juliet Mushens. I will be forever grateful for everything the team at Caskie Mushens has done.
Thanks to former DCI Stuart Gibbon of GIB Consultancy for the advice on police procedure—his book, The Crime Writer’s Casebook, was also invaluable. Thanks once again to Savage and Gray Design Ltd for the wonderful website and book trailers.
All the thanks, as always, to all my writing friends, especially the Romaniacs and the Cowbridge Cursors.
And, of course, to all my family and friends for their continued and fantastic support, in particular Tim, Jess, and Georgie—my very special bunch of Savages.
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About the Author
Vanessa Savage is a graphic designer and illustrator. She has twice been awarded a Writers’ Bursary by Literature Wales, most recently for The Woman in the Dark. She won the Myriad Editions First Crimes competition in 2016 and her work has been highly commended in the Yeovil International Fiction Prize, shortlisted for the Harry Bowling Prize, and the Caledonia Novel Award. She was longlisted for the Bath Novel Award.
Vanessa lives by the sea in South Wales with her husband and two daughters.
Also by Vanessa Savage
The Woman in the Dark
Vanessa Savage, The Woods
