“Cassie Briggs? No, I do it myself. Keeps me occupied. And the gardening, we both enjoy that. I must keep it tidy for when Roland comes home, but I can’t say I’m in the mood to do anything. I’d rather stay in bed.” She found a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her eyes. “I know it’s pathetic, but I still love him.”
“It’s not pathetic. You’re a kind, empathic person. There’s no shame in that at all. You’ll learn from this and whatever happens, it will help you in the future. To be there for others, for a start.”
“It’s true. Like poor Fiona. If this nightmare ever ends, I’ll go and see her.”
“One more thing,” asked Abigail, “How well do you know Mark Jones?”
“Do you think he may have done it?” she said, shocked.
“Not really. But I did hear his name mentioned that Dora might have had he
