Free Silent Truths by Susan Lewis

was his best attempt so far at saying Beth. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking about the babies she’d lost, or she never would get through this.
    ‘I’ve prepared your usual room,’ Beatrice told her, leading the way inside.
    Beth smiled her thanks. It would be the room she and Colin always shared when they came to visit. It was even known as Colin and Beth’s room, and had its own en-suite bathroom, combined TV and video unit, king-sized bed, antique wardrobes, chests and dressing tables and a private telephone line.
    The TV, she noticed almost as soon as she entered the room, had been removed. She guessed Bruce had called ahead to tip Beatrice off. They were doing it for her own good – she knew that, and even appreciated it, despite the near-frantic desire to immerse herself totally in all the debates, updates and wall-to-wall coverage the case was currently receiving. How peculiar it felt, to know that her husband’s life, and her own too, were being discussed, analysed, criticized and no doubt horribly vilified by the world at large while they remained remote from it all. Everyone would have an opinion, many would even claim to be experts, on psychology, criminology, the law in general, the law in precedent, the law in anything they could make fit. Marriage, mistresses and all aspects of infidelity would become red-hot topics. Absolutely nothing would be missed. By now they’d probably even dragged someone in from her kindergarten, her old school, previous jobs, even from her aerobics class, or her dentist’s surgery. Had they found any of Colin’s other mistresses yet? If not, they’d be there by tomorrow, or maybe they were being whipped up into Sunday exclusives. She knew how it went: no comment would be viewed too trite, and no source left untapped.
    She thought of Colin and felt a debilitating sadness sweep over her. It was as thoughsomething huge and intransigent was rising up between them. They were both a part of this – he much more than her, it was true – but it was as though they were being pushed inexorably apart by a force that was running out of control.
    She sat down on the edge of the bed. Outside the tall, half-open windows the garden was basking in the nostalgic warmth of a mid-evening sun. She could hear the birds singing, and smell the pungent scent of jasmine and roses. She looked at the phone, and tried to imagine herself picking up the receiver and doing what she had to.
    It was already past seven o’clock, so there wasn’t really much chance she’d get through now. Before trying, though, she had to get the number from the notes at the back of her dog-eared Filofax. Having found it, she lifted the receiver and listened for the dialling tone. To her surprise it was there. So they weren’t cutting her off from the outside world entirely.
    Taking her time, she punched in the number, then turned to the mirror and held her breath.
    After the fourth ring a female voice answered.
    ‘Hello,’ Beth responded. ‘Am I too late to speak to Robin Lindsay?’
    ‘Not at all. Can I say who’s calling?’
    Beth hesitated, then staring hard at her reflection she said, ‘Yes, please tell him it’s Ava Montgomery.’

Chapter 4
    LAURIE FORBES WAS at her desk, a slight, focused figure in the midst of newspaper bedlam. Shouting, phones, printers, TV and radio broadcasts swirled around her in a deafening cacophony, though she barely heard it as she rapidly pounded her computer keyboard reworking and researching the many megabytes of information she’d gathered on the Ashbys since Colin’s arrest. From the moment she’d received the tip-off her life had been consumed by the affair. Even now she could hardly believe her luck, finding herself first on the scene, ahead of the tabloids, and the police. Actually, it was only luck that had got her there, since she’d been covering a thwarted robbery at a nearby convenience shop – which might have made the smallest paragraph of page seven –