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NOW
‘Tristan, stop it!’ I shout.
He runs again at the door.
‘It’s not coming down,’ I say, and he slumps against it. ‘Where are Jenna and Rose?’
He pushes past me and leans far out the window. Should I push him? He rubs his face, and winces; it’s bleeding on one side.
Ava sits crying in her mother’s arms on the edge of the mattress. Ash stands by the bathroom doorway, arms crossed. Lydia sits on an upturned crate looking stunned.
‘Do you swear my daughter is alive?’ I ask.
He looks over at me, registering me then sliding away. He leans out of the window again.
Is he thinking of jumping down? We’re on the first floor, but this is a Victorian house with high ceilings, and below us is a concrete terrace. We must be twenty feet up at least.
‘Ash,’ Tristan says. ‘You’re good at climbing, aren’t you?’
I stare at him.
‘Just joking,’ he says and laughs. He scoops up the remains of the tape and then sits with it on the window ledge. He drops the tape and watches it fall.
‘You’ll break your ankles,’ I say.
‘Frances, don’t you know I’m invincible?’ He grins, and I know it’s another joke, but part of me wonders if he believes it.
He swings his legs over, twists round and lets himself drop, so only his fingers remain, curled over the wooden frame, going white.
‘Dad – don’t,’ says Ava, choking on tears. She runs over. ‘Don’t be silly. You’ll hurt yourself. It’s really far.’ She leans over and tugs at his arms.
‘Ava, come away from the window,’ says Mina.
‘Ava,’ says Tristan. ‘I love you, your brother and your mother. And I have never ever done anything to hurt anyone.’
Ava tugs at his arm, and then he lets go.
91
BEFORE
Lydia’s guests had left the front door open. I locked it. I would walk round the whole house to close off their exits.
Tristan, Frances, Mina, Lydia, all in one house, all finally facing up to what they’d done. And Lydia was right. Prison wasn’t enough. Prison wouldn’t make them feel the pain they’d caused.
I started sloshing petrol, especially on the door-frames and windowsills. The stink of it filled my head.
It was time for all the fire in me to come out.
Except for one thing. Or two things.
Ava and Ash.
If Lydia had pulled it off, they were in there too.
Because they’d proved they were chips off the old block, were partially responsible for Jenna taking a shard of mirror to her wrist. Hadn’t they essentially done to Jenna what their parents had done to me?
Come on, Georgia. It’s not time to lose your nerve.
