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"Exactly. And I'm not very good at losing in case you haven't noticed."
"Want to know what's worse than losing?"
"Enlighten me."
She walks right up to me, pokes me in the chest, and looks up at me with those determined grey eyes of hers. "Losing stings. But not even tryingkills. Living with regrets about what you didn't do is worse than trying and failing."
"Can you not be so immensely smart and insightful?" I glance over at the empty countertop. "And if you could whip up some of your Country Women's Association award-winning scones, that'd be lovely."
She pokes my chest harder.
"Ow.Please."
She lets out a self-satisfied hum just as I hear tyres scrape over the gravel. I go to see who it is.
Oh.
I open the fly screen. Col's back. Why is he returning the Land Rover already? We told him he could use it until he comes back out here when he finishes his work.
Gran joins me on the front porch. "What's he doing back here so soon?"
"Dunno."
I'd like to think that he's here because he can't get enough of me, but we texted this morning, and he said he was getting started on his case. This isn't a surpriseI need youvisit, andfrom the moment Col steps out of the car, my suspicions are confirmed. I can tell something's wrong.
Dressed formal, head down, and carrying a brown briefcase, he trudges over to us. When he reaches the steps, he raises his head, his eyes darting between me and Gran.
"What is it, Col?" she asks, picking up on the same thing I am.
He takes a deep breath, then says, "I have some news."
"Well don't just stand there. Come inside and tell us about it. I'll put the kettle on." She makes her way in, but Col doesn't move. He stands there like his feet are concreted into the ground, staring at me.
He eventually walks up the steps and stops. He's so close I could hug him. Kiss him. But something tells me this isn't the right time for that.
"What the fuck is going on?" I ask him, and he grimaces, running a hand through his hair.
"Just promise me you'll keep an open mind, okay?"
I nod and wave him in.
My gut tightens.
Something is very,verywrong here.
15
Col
My anxiety is through the roof.
I had to pull over twice on the drive out here and circle the car just to try to shake the nerves out of me.
It didn't work.
I feel how I normally do when I'm trekking across the tarmac about to board a flight. It's that fucking bad.
Polly's fussing over the stove, collecting mugs and whatnot, but Wilby hasn't stopped sending me curious looks since we've come inside. He knows something's up, and he's right. Something very big is up.
