I head upstairs as soon as we reach the house. Mum doesn’t want me to, she says she’s worried about leaving me to myself, but my stitches are throbbing, and I’m desperate to lie down, close my eyes, and at least try to begin processing everything she’s told me.
I want some time alone, I say.
I need it.
But Nick’s in our room when I get there, sitting on the edge of our bed, his phone in his hands.
I stall, taking in his grim expression, and feel my every muscle tense in sudden certainty that something else not at all good is about to come my way.
I’m tempted to turn away, walk back through the door, and keep walking, not have to face up to this, whatever it is.
But I stay where I am, trapped in the beam of his stare.
I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s got his contacts in, dark and brown, obscuring his eyes, stopping them from being windows to anything.
He’s wearing his air force blues.
Coldly, I register that, and that he’s left shooting to come looking for me.
Not to leave another message, though.
Not this time.
Whatever he’s got to say, it’s obviously serious enough that he needs to say it in person.
‘Why aren’t you working?’ I ask, and it amazes me how calm I manage to sound.
‘I’ve got a half hour,’ he says, and doesn’t sound calm at all. Hesoundslike he’s trying not to choke. ‘Justin’s on with Emma.’
I glance down at his phone, my memory once again throwing up his frown last night.
Also, that bizarre text.
Have you changed your mind?
The smiling face of that woman he was pictured with over the summer.
And, still, everything from this morning continues to churn through me, on a loop.
Someone was watching over you,that tractor driver said to me.
It was my dad,I think,my dad.
‘Something’s happened,’ I say, out loud. ‘What’s happened.’
‘I didn’t want you to have to deal with it,’ says Nick, and, dropping his phone, stands, coming towards me. ‘I’ve been trying to shut it down. Get rid of it.’
‘Get rid of what?’ I say, and now I feel like I’m choking.
But I really can’t deal with this.
Can’t handle a new nightmare.
I’m already juggling too many.
He was lying across you when that tractor driver got to you.
‘What’s happened?’ I repeat.
