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The road widens and Bevan pulls level and Croft rolls down the window, shouting. He looks furious. I ignore him. Bevan accelerates past and we quickly lose sight of them. I guess she doesn’t want to waste time on me. I try to keep up but within seconds she’s disappeared. We fly through the little hamlet and past the school lane.
‘Frances, where are you?’ asks Dan. ‘What’s going on?’
I have to brake suddenly to avoid a car at a crossroads.
‘We’re on our way to Oakridge Nursing Village,’ says Mina. ‘We think Jenna might be there.’
‘At a… Okay. Frances?’
I take the slip road onto the motorway, switch back into second and floor it.
‘Frances?’
‘Yes?’
‘Your mum was arrested.’
‘What?’
I can feel Mina’s eyes drilling into me.
‘I got back and I was – I’ve called you maybe a hundred times? – and then the police were here and they’ve just taken her away.’
The satnav tells me to take the next exit.
‘Arrested for what?’
‘Attempted murder.’
Attempted murder of who? I can feel that my heart is going to split but I don’t have time for that. ‘Are you coming to find our daughter?’
‘I’m coming.’ The line goes dead.
And then, as I make the turn-off for Hylwel, as I notice some bunting on a large sign advertising Oakridge, the whole world seems to jolt and a sound like thunder fills the bright morning sky. Above the trees I see a rising plume of smoke as car alarms start to wail in the distance.
102
BEFORE
Well, who am I to claim I don’t like theatrics?
I killed my dad then went downstairs and stood in the kitchen in the warm sunlight and thought: Georgia Smith, Barbra Streisand would be ashamed of you.
Sure, the marks of my hands were red around his neck. I would go to prison. But who would notice? Where was my grand finale?
I regretted leaving behind the flame thrower.
I turned on all the burners of my dad’s stove without sparking them alight – why was gas allowed in a retirement village? – and then I lit the Ocean Breeze candle in the living room window and walked out the front door.
I sat on the bench opposite my dad’s, hoping it was a safe distance. How long would it take for the gas to reach the candle? I was imagining Hiroshima, but perhaps it would be more like a bin fire on a damp night.
There was a blackbird singing in the tree behind me. My chest tingled.
Theo’s car was gone. He would’ve headed for the motorway, because even though there were cameras, the other way was country roads and tiny villages: a dead end.
How far could he get before his tyres gave out? He’d have a spare but not two, and if the girls were in the boot, he’d have to let them out to get it. What then?
I wanted to sit on the bench and watch my dad’s house burn, imagine the flesh slipping off his bones as the house caved in on itself, consumed by heat. Ideally, I’d have had a cup of coffee. But nothing’s perfect. And I didn’t want anything to happen to Jenna or Rose. So I sighed and reached for the car keys in my pocket.
