23 Saturday 4 August, 10.20pm.
I’m allowed a phone call. According to Brian, now I’ve been interviewed a few times and they’ve completed the search at my house, they no longer consider it a risk for me to phone someone.
I’m not sure what risk they think I pose, but Brian says they would be worried I might try to get a message out to an accomplice of some sort. It all sounds so bizarre, so far removed from my normal, everyday life.
I’ve even started to question myself, begun to wonder if perhaps I could have done it. After all, the evidence seems so overwhelming. But I know I didn’t. I can’t have done. I don’t have a history of mental illness or forgetfulness. I don’t black out or sleepwalk. Not at nine o’clock in the morning, when I know damn well I was sitting in my back garden.
Brian
