A thought occurs to me. “It’s Ralph’s fault,” I say slowly, and then I wince. Of all the people to bring up, of all the names to mention.
Joel tilts his head as if he hasn’t heard me properly. “What is?”
I cross my arms. “It’s Ralph’s fault Laura was injured, isn’t it? If he’d told the police, when he heard about Dad’s accident—that Vera was here that morning...”
Joel nods warily. “Yeah. It might have changed things, I suppose. But it’s not like he lied. If the police didn’t ask him...”
“I could have asked him!” I swipe at a tear on my cheek, annoyed by it. “If I’d talked to him... It was too late for Dad, but I could have stopped Laura being hurt.”
“Seraphine.” Joel waits until I look at him directly. “Ralph is responsible for his own actions. Don’t blame yourself for any of this.”
“But we used to be friends. And I didn’t know how to keep that, when we stopped—” I wave a hand, appalled that I’m even attempting to describe my relationship with Ralph to Joel. Itake a deep breath. “What if he didn’t say anything to the police because of me?”
Joel frowns. “Why? To protect you? From finding out what your grandmother had done?”
“No, I mean—maybe he didn’t say anything because it was my family, because he didn’t want anything to do with me.”
Joel unhooks his thumbs and steps toward me, but I step back, and he stops.
“Ralph owes your gran a lot of loyalty,” Joel says. “She’s always helped his family out, hasn’t she? Supporting Helen, Daisy’s job. I’m sure he was just—he didn’t want to cause her trouble. He was just putting his own family’s needs first.”
A noise outside makes me glance again through the window. Alex and Kiara are peering into the trunk of Alex’s car now, heads close together.
“You’re looking for ways to blame yourself, Seraphine, and you mustn’t,” Joel says.
I turn back to face him.
“Doctor’s orders,” he says. “I mean it.” There’s something in the warmth of his tone that eases the ache in my muscles. I frown at the scar on his jaw, the lift of his eyebrows, the hint of his smile.
“You saved her, didn’t you?” I say.
“Who?”
“Laura. I put her in danger, but you saved her.”
“Well, I found her, yeah.”
I shake my head. “You did more than that... You saved her life.”
Joel steps closer to me, and his voice is soft. “I guess I was in the right place at the right time.” He reaches out slowly and takes my hand in his. “And do you know why?”
I watch his thumb stroke across my wrist.
“Because of Michael,” I say.
“Because of you,” he says. “I could have waited for Grandad to come home, but I thought I’d go and look for him because I wanted to clear my head. Not because I was particularly worried about Grandad. Because I was thinking about you.”
I look up at him, trying to resist the hypnotic nearness of him, trying to puzzle out his meaning.
“Are you trying to convince me that Laura was saved because ofme?” I ask him. “Nice try, but I’m notthatgullible.”
His widening smile reminds me forcibly of carefree childhood days: heading out to pick blackberries, racing down the lane on our bikes, pedals pumping, the wind in our hair.
“What can I say?” He shrugs, and he’s impossibly handsome with this glint in his dark eyes, this almost-laugh on his face. “It’s the truth. I was in the right place at the right time because I was thinking about you.”
I shake my head at him, but I can feel my own smile responding to his.
“I’m always thinking about you,” he says.
