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‘Passing? Why aren’t you at work?’
She shuffled, tucked a curl behind her ears.
‘I left early.’
I thought of the empties in our kitchen bin.
‘Oh God, you didn’t get fired, did you?’
‘No, of course not. Come on, let’s get going. I’ve been freezing my butt off waiting out here for you.’
‘No one asked you to,’ I muttered.
My friends were halfway down the street but I could still hear them laughing, was convinced they were laughing at us. My mother and I walked to the car in silence. By the time we were inside and out of view, I’d forgiven her. The day had been too good to waste it sulking.
‘I scored two goals,’ I said. ‘I think I might make the team.’
‘That’s great, sweetheart.’
‘And I got a commendation in English. For my essay on betrayal in Caesar.’
‘Brilliant.’
‘Mrs Quinalt says I’ve got a perceptive eye.’
‘That’s fantastic.’
It was like talking to a robot.
She pulled up outside the flat and cut the engine but didn’t unbuckle.
The old weight settled back in my ribcage.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, although a part of me already knew.
The look in her eyes gave it away. It was as though she was struggling to keep her balance. As if she couldn’t quite focus. After Matty’s conviction, that look was there all the time. Although, of course, that might have been the pills.
She took a deep breath, turned to face me. Time moved in freeze frame. Her mouth opened, lips forming the words. I heard a gasp, realised it was coming from me.
‘Sophie, I. . .’
She reached out to touch my hand but I pulled it away.
‘Why?’ I whispered.
My ears rang. I gripped the door handle, felt the sting of acid in my throat.
‘The women,’ my mother was saying. Her voice sounded as though it was far away. Underwater. ‘The disappearances. . .’
‘Is it because. . .’
My mother frowned.
‘Because of what?’
I just shook my head, couldn’t say it.
I sometimes wonder now what would have happened if she’d forced it out of me. If I’d told her the truth, bridged the gap between us.
It’s all moot though. Neither of us opened up to the other. Instead, we drifted out to sea, each on our own leaky raft, bobbing further and further apart.
In the pocket of the passenger door I glimpsed the rape alarm Matty had given my mother. Mine was zipped up in my school bag.
You never know when you might need them. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you guys.
Matty who loved us, who wanted to keep us safe. Matty who had just been arrested for serial murder; the most recent victim, a girl half my age whose face was so mangled when the police found her that her own parents couldn’t identify her.
A fresh surge of bile rode up my digestive tract. I started shaking.
And then everything went black.
