All That Is Lost Between Us (17 page)

I keep my voice gentle. ‘Can I ask why you're interested?'

She doesn't look at me. ‘I just wondered, that's all.'

Even though I know I'm straying into just the territory I'd promised myself I would avoid, I cannot help it. ‘Danny seems like a nice lad.'

Georgia snorts. ‘Don't get the wrong end of the stick, Mum – he's great, but I'm not in love with Danny.'

‘Well, he cares about you. He came to see me today . . .' I trail off, wondering if I'm about to break some vital rule of client confidentiality. I remind myself that Danny didn't come to see me for counselling, nor did he ask for any of our conversation to be kept from Georgia. Yet I still feel that to say anything more would be wrong, which is why it's difficult when Georgia's interest is, understandably, piqued straightaway.

‘What did he want? You don't counsel him, do you?'

‘No. He wanted to check how Sophia was, and how you are too. He was still in shock, as you'd imagine.' I recall what else he said, and decide to take the plunge. ‘He also seemed suspicious about the accident. He thinks there could be more to it.' I turn to her. ‘Do you think that might be the case?'

Georgia stops walking. ‘Really? What do you mean?'

I move closer. ‘I asked him why none of you saw the car's headlights or heard the engine – I thought about it last night too. Could it be that . . . that . . .' I can't bring myself to say the words, but she is staring at me, waiting, and now I've gone this far I have no choice. ‘Could there have been anything malicious about the accident? Do you think the driver, whoever it was, didn't see you – or that they—'

‘Stop, Mum.'

I am angry with myself for scaring her. But I need to know what's going on so I can protect her. ‘Sweetheart, I don't mean to—'

‘What exactly did Danny say?'

I vacillate, trying to find the right words. ‘He didn't know anything for sure, he said he just had the impression that the car crept up behind you.'

Georgia starts to walk again, going so fast I'm almost at a run trying to keep up with her. ‘Georgia, I'm sorry . . .'

‘I don't know what to think now.' She is a few steps ahead of me, talking over her shoulder, one of her hands massaging the back of her neck. ‘What did you say to Danny when he told you this?'

‘I didn't say anything – I just listened.'

‘Of course, that's all you ever do, isn't it.'

Her words leave a sting. How can she think that listening is a weakness? I try to bite back my frustration, to keep my tone even. ‘Georgia, what do you mean? How could I do anything else – I wasn't there . . .'

‘I just—' Georgia's voice breaks and I catch up enough to see a few tears trickling down her face. ‘It's bad enough it happened at all. To think that someone wanted to hurt us . . .'

How I wish I hadn't started this. I'm desperate to assuage her distress, and search for anything that might comfort her. ‘Danny is going to speak to the police again.' I check my watch. ‘Right now, actually. We could call him afterwards, find out what happened . . . Or if you want to speak to them again too, you could.'

‘Just stay
out
of it, Mum!' she shouts and stomps off. For the rest of the journey she remains two steps ahead of me, and we hardly exchange a word. It's so hard to bite my tongue when I want to scream. Why does she never see that I'm on her side?

My fears have been rising all day, every thought baiting my uncertainties. Now my emotions are close to a riot, and Georgia's reaction has done nothing to calm them. I think of Sophia, still unconscious in hospital. Why on earth would someone want to hurt our children? Who the hell is it? And, more to the point, where are they now?

Z
ac is not where he is supposed to be. For the past hour he has been hiding under his bedclothes, having decided to play truant. He had been unable to cope with his instant popularity today, with all those randoms who had feigned excuses to chat before twisting the conversation around to the accident. Even the teachers had been at it. Time and time again, once he had told them he didn't really know anything, they had retreated reluctantly back to their huddles, mouths twitching with unsated curiosity.

Zac has never minded that he flies under most people's radar, and all he wants today is a return to anonymity. After a few hours at school his brain has become rubbery; he is wearing away at the edges, over-exposed from the barrage of unwanted attention. All morning he has replayed the expressions on Jacinta and Zoe's faces. All morning he has found himself clenching and unclenching his fists.

As soon as the bell for lunch went, he had walked over to the chemistry block to see his form tutor, Mr Kyle, and informed him of a headache. Mr Kyle hadn't even looked twice at him, although Zac had faked a few winces and squinted as though the room were pulsating, just in case. ‘Of course,' his teacher had said, ‘get home and take it easy.' Kyle was rarely so benevolent. It must have been down to the accident, otherwise Zac should have thought of doing this before.

There was, of course, a procedure to follow for leaving school early. You were supposed to visit the office, sign a form, call a parent. However, Zac had had enough inquisitions for one day. Once he'd had permission to escape, he had stolen through the school grounds like a thief evading capture, keeping a wary eye out for his mother and sister until he reached the bike sheds and unlocked his bike. He hadn't looked back once he got to the gate, and on the ride home he had tried to let the fresh air blow away all his endless circling questions. His brain was buzzing with its burden, and during the morning a particularly alarming thought had repeated itself over and over:
What if I made a mistake?

It had been fairly dark in Georgia's room when he'd discovered that photograph – had he really seen what he thought he had?

He was temporarily distracted once he reached home, when it had occurred to him that his father might be there, since this was not a typical day. But the Land Rover wasn't parked outside, and when Zac had unlocked the front door and shouted hello, his voice trailed away down the hall in fruitless search of a response. Each cold, empty room he walked past seemed to admonish him for playing truant. It had been a relief to retreat to his bed, and before he knew it, he was dozing in and out of his daydreams.

He wakes famished and rushes to the kitchen, where he grabs a stack of bread, slaps it down on the counter and lavishes margarine onto each slice, hearing the tuts from his mother as clearly as if she were in the room. He adds a few big slabs of cheese and a generous squeeze of mayonnaise, then sits at the kitchen table, chewing and thinking about that photo hidden just a short distance from where he sits. The stairs beckon him, just visible through the door jamb.

Do I really want to get involved in this?

No, he tells himself. Don't go into Georgia's room again. Just forget you saw anything.

He considers this for a few seconds, his sandwich just scattered crumbs now. Then he hears the familiar deep purr of the Land Rover's engine pulling onto the drive.

His dad is home.

It's now or never.

He jumps to his feet, springing up the stairs two at a time, rushing into Georgia's room. He knows she will crucify him if she finds him trespassing. Georgia throws her sheets into the hallway when she wants them washed; her room has long been classified a strict ‘no entry' zone.

He feels down the side of the bed to retrieve the journal, flicks to the back and takes out the photo. Stares at it, checking and rechecking, until he hears a key turn in the front door.

He isn't wrong.

What is he going to do? There's no time to think now, his dad's voice is discernible, chatting away to someone. Zac considers taking the photograph as evidence, then imagines Georgia searching frantically for it and decides not to. Still, he needs to act fast. He pulls his phone from his pocket and takes a picture, before pushing the photograph back inside the book.

He is just replacing the diary when he hears a bark. He looks out of the window to see Arthur trotting down the path, and there's a familiar figure striding behind him.

Maddie is here.

Zac becomes aware of every nerve ending – his rapid heartbeat – the sweat on his forehead – his unsteady hands. He does a frantic scan of Georgia's room, double-checks that the diary is completely hidden down the side of the bed, and then hurries to his own bedroom, taking care to close the door slowly to lessen the creak.

Once back in familiar surroundings, his jitters begin to subside. He sits on his bed debating his next move. He's supposed to be at school – no one knows he is here – and he doesn't really want to see Maddie after her friends' comments this morning. Perhaps he could hide upstairs until she has gone? But when will that be? And seriously, since she's family, how long can he avoid her?

Arthur makes the decision for him, by bounding up the stairs, nudging Zac's door open with his nose, then leaping into the room and straight onto Zac's bed, pinning him against the covers. Zac squirms around, trying to avoid the dog's stinking hot breath as Arthur attempts to lick his face. By the time he wriggles free, his dad is standing in the doorway.

‘Hey, Zac, what are you doing here?'

‘I had a headache.' Zac sits up, holding Arthur at bay, avoiding his father's eyes. ‘I've been sleeping it off.'

His dad frowns. ‘Does your mum know you're here?'

Zac doesn't answer. He doesn't need to. He watches his dad sigh, but then his expression changes to one of understanding. ‘Okay, well, it's been a stressful twenty-four hours. Maddie has come back from the hospital to spend some time with us . . . And we've brought Arthur with us too, in case you hadn't noticed.' He laughs, since Arthur has settled himself next to Zac on the bed, his head resting on his paws.

‘Hey, Zac.'

As Maddie appears beside his father, Zac can feel the blood rushing to his face. It happens so often now that he can only hope she thinks his cheeks are permanently red. ‘Hey, Maddie.' He clocks the black smudges under her eyes. ‘So, how's Sophia?' he asks, glancing between the two of them.

His dad breathes deeply. ‘Well, she's broken her leg and she's got some bruising on her head. It'll take her a while to recover, but she'll be all right. She's still asleep, but the doctors expect her to wake up soon.' His father checks his watch. ‘Are you two okay if I make some calls? I'll go into the front room – I need some quiet to phone the office.'

Zac doesn't want to be alone with Maddie, but there is no reason to say anything other than, ‘Sure.' He strokes Arthur as his dad disappears, and before long they hear a door shut downstairs.

‘How come you weren't answering your phone?' Maddie hasn't moved from the doorway.

He stares at her. ‘Sorry.'

She doesn't say anything and he can only bear the tension for a few seconds. ‘Are you hungry?'

She shrugs. ‘Maybe – I'm not sure.'

‘Come to the kitchen, let's see what's there.' He follows her back down the stairs, Arthur pushing past them to take the lead.

Once in the kitchen, Arthur scratches at the back door until he's let out. Zac searches around for something they might eat, since he polished off all the bread earlier. He opens and closes cupboard doors, aware that Maddie has pulled herself up to sit on the counter and is watching him. ‘Crisps?' he asks, but she shakes her head.

‘I'm not that hungry, after all,' she says quietly.

He grabs an apple and bites into it, leaning back against the counter. When he looks across, Maddie's head is bent low, and to his alarm he sees a few tears falling from her cheeks onto the backs of her hands.

Zac is flummoxed. He puts his apple down and pulls himself up to sit next to her on the countertop, but beyond that he doesn't know what to do. The left side of him is pressed against her, and this closeness is unbearably pleasurable. He thinks about putting his arm around her, but he can picture Jacinta and Zoe smirking at him, and is stuck in indecision.

‘What can I do?' he asks eventually.

She sniffs. ‘Can I have one of those?' She gestures to his half-eaten apple. He jumps down and selects one from the fruit bowl, rinses it, then tosses it to her.

‘The hospital was horrible,' she whispers once she's taken a couple of bites. ‘Sophia looks terrible, and I can't stand her just lying there like that. And now they think someone's been watching her.'

A cold shiver runs through Zac. ‘What do you mean?'

‘They've got pictures of a woman on the surveillance tape from last night, standing in the corridor, snooping on us all through the window. It's bloody creepy.'

‘What?' This sounds too much like a movie plot. ‘Couldn't there be some explanation?'

‘No one knows who she is. I really don't want to go back, and I hate that Sophia's stuck there. Thank god my parents are with her.'

Zac tries to process this information. The day is becoming increasingly surreal. Maddie is watching him, as though waiting for him to say something.

‘You want to come up to my room?' he suggests, hoping to spend some more time with her.

She frowns. ‘Okay.'

Upstairs he holds his bedroom door open for her, and she goes over to his bed. When he sits next to her, the space between them is small enough for their arms and legs to brush against one other. Zac would have thought nothing of it a year ago, but now he's aware of every touch. He still wants to put his arm around her, but doesn't dare.

‘I'm so sorry about Sophia. It's horrible.'

Maddie sighs. ‘Zac, I feel like everything's going wrong.' She turns to him, and when he sees the desperation in her face he recognises it as his own.