‘It was self-defence, Soph,’ Callie said. ‘The police will see that.’

They sat on the sofa, both pretending everything would be OK but Callie’s skin took on a green tinge and she spoke in a monotone.

‘I’m a murderer. I’m going to jail.’ Sophie wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked herself back and forth. Panic filled her throat.

‘You won’t,’ Callie said but Sophie had never heard her big sister sound so uncertain before.

‘I will. I’m going to jail. I won’t be able to cope.’ Sophie buried her face in her hands and sobs ripped through her body so intensely she felt her chest might split into two and her heart might tumble to the floor.

‘I won’t let you.’ Callie slid her arm around Sophie’s shoulders. ‘We’ll say I did it. We could say I called around looking for you but you weren’t here. Owen attacked me. The police will believe that.’ Callie’s hand fluttered to her swollen cheek. ‘I was protecting myself.’

‘But the wound is on the back of his head. That’s not self-defence. I can’t let you take the blame. Oh God. I can’t go to jail.’

‘If we explain to the police—’

‘No.’ Sophie shook her head. She knew if the police got involved the secrets she had kept, the lies she had told, would all come out. Her family would be torn apart. They would hate her. Callie would hate her. ‘Please, Callie. You’ve got to help me.’ Sophie squeezed Callie’s arm tightly.

‘How?’ Callie asked, her eyes flicked to Owen. Blood had seeped from his head and stained the hearth.

‘We could get rid of his body. No one would know.’ Sophie felt a kernel of hope. ‘No one would miss him. Not really. He doesn’t have a family.’ Sophie blocked out the thought of Owen’s son, Harry. It wasn’t like he ever saw him, was it? ‘His mates are all losers. Particularly Neil. Thinking he’s something special when he’s just a small-time crook. He would miss Owen for his money but no one would actually miss Owen as a person.’ No one but her. Sophie pushed that thought away. ‘It’s the perfect solution.’

‘Sophie, I can’t…’

‘If you loved me you would.’

Hurt flashed in Callie’s eyes, and Sophie knew she wasn’t being fair but desperation was inflating inside of her like a balloon, and she didn’t know what else she could do. She pushed forward, ideas sparking now.

‘We could bury him. Look.’ Sophie grabbed the free local newspaper off the coffee table and flicked through it until she found what she was looking for. ‘Burton Aerodrome.’ She jabbed her finger at the article. ‘They’ve declared it a conservation area. They’ll never build on it. Never dig it up.’

Callie rose to her feet and paced over to the window. Sophie wished she knew what her sister was thinking. They had always been so close but now they felt a world apart. Sophie wrung her hands as she waited. The clock ticked loudly. Her blood pulsed in her ears. Finally, Callie turned around. Her face streaked with tears.

‘OK. I’ll help you.’

* * *

Sophie wanted to move quickly before Callie had second thoughts and she went into the bedroom to fetch a sheet to wrap Owen in. As she stood at the foot of the bed where she had lost her virginity, she noticed Owen’s watch on the bedside table. He would never need to know the time again. What had she done? She ran into the bathroom and her stomach muscles screamed as she vomited in the toilet bowl until there was nothing left inside of her. When she had finished she stuffed a few things into a rucksack. She was never coming back here.

When Sophie walked back into the lounge, sheet bundled in her arms and a sour taste in her mouth, Callie was tapping on her mobile phone.

‘What are you doing?’ Sophie’s heart stuttered.

‘I’m telling Nathan we’re having a night out. He’ll wonder where I am.’

‘I bet he’ll love that.’ Sophie knew Nathan didn’t like her and although she understood why – all the relapses, all the stress she’d put Callie through – it still rankled.

Callie bit her lip and, for a split second, Sophie thought Callie had changed her mind and she wished she hadn’t said anything but Callie rose to her feet, took a deep breath and said: ‘Let’s do this.’

* * *

Callie reversed her car right up to the front door. She clicked open her boot, and Sophie took out the gardening tools and the wheelbarrow Callie always used to tend to their parents’ garden and put them on the back seat.

Rain was still teeming down and although blanketed by darkness Sophie looked around nervously, imagining eyes watching them.

In the lounge, the girls shoved the coffee table out of the way and spread out the sheet.

‘Let’s lift him onto it and wrap him up,’ Callie said but neither girl moved.

‘After three,’ Callie said bending down and sliding her hand under Owen’s shoulders. ‘Grab his feet, Soph.’

Sophie was glad her sister had taken charge. It felt like old times almost, and tears stung as she thought of all the ways their relationship would change after this.

Sophie shuddered as her hands closed around Owen’s ankles. His jeans shifted and she caught a glimpse of the Mr Grumpy socks she had bought him for his birthday. She began to shake uncontrollably.

‘If you’re not sure, it’s not too late to change your mind?’ Callie asked. ‘I could call the police?’

But the thought of the police digging into Sophie’s past was worse than the thought of what they were about to do.

‘I’m sure,’ she said. But she wasn’t. Not really.

‘One, two, three,’ Callie grunted as she strained to move Owen. ‘Bloody hell.’ She crouched on her heels as she folded the sheet around him. ‘I can’t believe he’s so heavy.’

‘How are we going to get him into the car?’ Terror had lodged in Sophie’s chest and her voice was unnaturally high.

‘Wheelbarrow?’ said Callie.

* * *

The journey to Burton Aerodrome was silent save the clipped tones of the voice on the satnav giving directions and the rhythmic swish of the windscreen wipers. The smell of cleaning products still clung to Sophie’s nostrils but, despite a lingering stain on the hearth, Sophie was sure they had removed the blood splatters from the lounge. Her hands felt raw from the bleach she had used.

When they reached the airfield Callie’s car juddered over the rough ground.

‘Where do you think?’ Sophie looked anxiously out of the window.

‘I don’t know everything,’ Callie snapped, and Sophie felt the jolt of her sister beginning to slip away from her. ‘How about near the bushes? It won’t be obvious the ground has been disturbed if anyone comes?’

Callie turned her face towards Sophie’s as she waited for an answer and, in the half-light, her skin had a waxy sheen and Sophie wondered how Callie would move on from this. How they both would.

‘OK.’ Sophie said.

Callie accelerated again and as the engine thrummed louder she unclipped her seatbelt and twisted around to reach for her handbag that she always slung on the back seat when she drove.

‘I’ve told you before not to do that.’ Sophie snatched the bag from Callie’s hands. ‘It’s dangerous. What do you want?’

‘There’s a packet of mints in there somewhere. I’m feeling sick.’

They circled around the airfield, sucking on Extra Strongs, until Callie slowed again.

‘Here. I think.’

She parked and cut the engine, leaving the headlights slicing through the darkness, illuminating the rain.

Callie handed Sophie the fork and took the spade and, although the ground was wet, it took a long time to dig a hole deep enough. By the time they had finished, the muscles in Sophie’s arms trembled and burned and she was covered in a clammy sweat. She looked at her sister and she wasn’t sure whether Callie’s face was wet with rain or tears.

* * *

‘Come with me,’ Sophie had pleaded as they sat in the car park at the train station.

‘I can’t,’ Callie said. ‘I love Nathan.’

‘But you love me?’ Sophie didn’t think Callie could any more. Not after everything she had put her through that night.

‘Of course. You’re my sister.’

‘Will you tell him? Nathan?’

Callie brushed her damp hair out of her eyes with a hand that still shook.

‘I don’t know, Soph. I’ve never kept anything from him before.’

‘He’ll tell the police.’

‘He won’t.’

‘You’ve got to act normal. If you’re going back. At work. Everywhere. You won’t be able to do that. I know you.’

‘I can’t just leave my life.’ Callie had scrubbed at her wet cheeks with her sleeve. ‘Where will you go?’

‘Dunno.’ Sophie shrugged. ‘I always fancied Spain. Shit. My passport is still at Mum and Dad’s from when they took us to Paris.’

‘Shall we…?’

‘Could you get it, Callie? And some cash? Enough for a flight and a couple of months in a B&B while I find my feet? Please?’

‘I suppose. I have to give the bank notice if I withdraw savings so it might take a few days. What about Mum and Dad?’

‘I’ll text them tomorrow and tell them I’ve gone on holiday with Owen. I’ll figure out the rest later.’ Sophie clicked open the car door and climbed out, hefting her rucksack onto her shoulder. She felt very small. And very alone. ‘I’ll text you and let you know where I am. Thanks Callie. For everything.’ She began to turn.

‘Wait,’ Callie called. ‘I will come with you. To Spain. Not for ever. I don’t want to leave Nathan. But until you’re settled at least.’

Sophie’s throat closed and she couldn’t speak. She nodded instead.

‘I’ll meet you in a few days when I’ve got some money and our passports. It will be OK, Soph. I promise.’