‘It’s too late for that.’
Air rushes in the speaker. I picture Matthew’s free hand swiping the air, trying to grab me to steady himself. Me leaping away, but not before he grabbed my umbrella right out of my hands.
A horn beeps, brakes screech, then nothing. No deafening thud of Matthew’s body as the bus smashed into it, no sound of my panicked cries as I ran away.
I drop Matthew’s phone to the floor and grip the bat in both hands, slamming the top of it down until the phone is a mess of broken glass and wires. I wish my own memories could be erased just as easily.
‘Mummy, I’m scared,’ Archie whines, burying his head in Jenna’s dress.
I look from the floor to Archie. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt Matthew.’ The words are a whisper. I don’t know who I’m talking to now. I couldn’t have him spoil this for me. Tears burn in the corners of my eyes. The familiar guilt rushes through my body.
‘It’s your job to protect him, Sophie.’
No, Mum. It was your job to protect us.
‘Please,’ Jenna begs. ‘Let us go now.’
I shake my head, ignoring the worry worming through my insides. Can they smell it yet? I can. But then I can always smell the smoke. Memories elbow their way unwanted into my thoughts.
‘There was a fire in this house once,’ I tell Jenna. ‘You wouldn’t know it now, would you? I couldn’t believe it when Matthew said he was going to rent this place – our old family home. Matthew says it helps him feel close to Mum, but this place gives me the creeps. I think he lives here as some kind of weird way of punishing himself for what happened. He blames himself, obviously. I blame him too, as it goes.’
My eyes are itching. It’s starting.
Archie coughs. Then Beth.
I watch Jenna’s eyes look from her children to the door where a thin layer of grey smoke is seeping in from underneath.
‘Oh my God,’ Rachel screams. ‘She’s going to burn us all alive.’
‘Shut up,’ I hiss, wishing Rachel wasn’t here. I only posted the personal training flyer through her door as a reason to get close to her house. I wanted to see where the woman who was shagging Jenna’s husband lived. I never expected her to phone me. Still, she was useful in the end.
Rachel stands up, hobbling beside Jenna. Fear slithers snake-like up my body. I’m outnumbered. I raise the bat just as Rachel tries to leap forward and grab it. For all her fitness, she is too slow and I lift the bat out of her reach before bringing it down on her shoulder with a thwack that makes her scream in pain.
‘Get back.’ I kick her where the bat hit and Rachel screeches again, staggering out of my reach and back to where Jenna is standing.
‘I tried to warn you,’ I say, turning back to Jenna. ‘I left so many warnings, I even pushed you over last week—’
‘That was you?’ Jenna cries out.
‘Don’t you get it?’ I say. I’m shouting but my voice is muffled by the throbbing of my heartbeat in my ears. ‘It was all me, but you didn’t listen. I tried to make you see how dangerous it is to ignore your family. You don’t pay attention to what your husband is doing or how your kids are feeling. I knew it the moment I read all those little notes in Archie’s school diary.’ I reach into my backpack and pull out Archie’s book. The shell drops out with it. A beautiful pearly-white shell I took from the bowl in Jenna’s living room when the idiot estate agent showed me round.
‘He’s just like Matthew. It won’t be long before he starts acting out. Both of them will when they realize you don’t love them. The same thing will happen to them as it did to me. I’m just speeding up the process.
‘It really would’ve been better if we’d all died that night. That’s what I realized when I met you, Jenna. Then my mum wouldn’t be trapped in her own head, hating us, and I wouldn’t have to live every day—’
‘I love my children,’ Jenna says, her voice angry now. ‘They’re not like you and Matthew. I’m not like your mum.’
‘Yes, they are.’ I move to the door and press my weight against it. Smoke is clawing at the back of my throat and my eyes are watering but I won’t stop now. This is my fresh start, my chance to end what I started twelve years ago.
Chapter 59
Sophie, aged fifteen
Sophie opens her eyes slowly. They’re sore from crying and for a second it feels like they won’t open. The CD has stopped playing and the house is silent. She looks at her clock, expecting it to be late, but it isn’t. It’s only nine-thirty. She must have cried herself to sleep.
Vicky and Flick will be dancing now. Sophie imagines Flick’s arms snaking around Reece’s neck and stealing Sophie’s first kiss. The clothes she was going to wear are screwed up on the floor. She tried them on earlier and stared at herself in the mirror before changing again and crawling into her bed to sulk. She wished she’d had the confidence to go out alone, to walk straight up to Reece and pull him on to the dance floor. It was a stupid plan. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Sophie sighs, her thoughts turning to Matthew. She waits for the regret to hit. She’d been cruel, but he deserved it. She’s starting to see his behaviour for what it is – an act. All of his silences and strops, the way he listens and watches but doesn’t speak – it’s allfake, a way to wrap her mum around his little finger and dodge the telling-off that Sophie seems to walk right into.
