Only there’s no sign of her.
I slow the car to barely a crawl. Perhaps she’s a little dazed and is taking a minute before she rises to her feet like Lazarus in Adidas. Still, nothing.
So then I stop and wait. She is still nowhere to be seen. I hang around a little longer, and gradually, a sense of dread wells up inside me.
‘Get up you stupid cow!’ I shout aloud. ‘Come on! Stop being so dramatic.’
Two interminably long minutes pass in which a car appears ahead and I spread out across the passenger seat so as not to be spotted. When it passes, I manoeuvre my own car into a three-point turn and drive, stopping at where I clipped her. I look out from the driver’s window and spot a pink and silver trainer lying on its side on the verge.
Not even the strongest coffee will sober you up as quickly as the realisation you might have just killed someone. Instinct is telling me to get the hell out of there, but my controlling side warns meI can’t leave until I know for certain what’s happened. So I exit the car and walk slowly across the road.
And there I find her. Liv is lying face up, half her body in the watery ditch, half of it out. Her arm is unnaturally bent backwards and her head is resting against a wooden fence post. Blood seeps from a gash to her forehead.
‘Liv,’ I say. ‘Are you alright?’
There’s no response. I repeat her name. Then I say it again, waiting for a spark of life to ignite inside her. But there’s no flicker of animation.
All I know about first aid is what I’ve seen on TV, so I search for a pulse in her wrists, then her neck. There’s nothing. I even place my palm in the centre of her chest to find a heartbeat. But she is completely motionless.
I think I’ve killed her. I think I have bloody well killed her.
I steady myself against the fence post as the ground beneath me gives way. Then, when I’m able to, I hurry back to the car and drive.
October
One Month Before Bonfire Night
Chapter 57
Anna
I’m sure I spot a shadow moving behind the shutters in Margot’s lounge. I know Nicu and the kids haven’t returned, so it can only be her. But she’s not answering the door. And she hasn’t replied to my messages for days.
It takes two more knocks – much louder this time – before finally the door opens a crack. In even this limited view of her, she looks worse than she did the last time I saw her. Her eyes are bloodshot, her make-up smeared and her unruly hair makes her looks like something the cat dragged in, ate, then vomited up. It’s clear she’s taking the split with Nicu badly.
However, I’m struggling to revel in her misery like I once would have. And I don’t know if it’s because my resolve has weakened or because, today, there’s something bigger than both of us to deal with.
‘Anna,’ she says huskily, but doesn’t invite me in.
‘Did you get my messages?’ I ask.
‘I’ve had a bug and haven’t left the house in a couple of days or turned on my—’
‘It’s Liv. She’s been hurt.’
Margot blinks rapidly, her red eyes opening wide.
‘Car accident,’ I continue. ‘Hit-and-run, the police think. She was out jogging yesterday afternoon when it happened. Brandon found her using a phone-tracking app. She’s in a bad way apparently.’
‘But she’s still alive?’
‘Yes.’
She releases a long breath that reeks of vinegar, and I pull my head back. ‘Oh thank God,’ she says. And for a moment, I think she might be about to cry.
‘She’s in hospital,’ I continue. ‘Brandon says she’s being kept in a medically induced coma until the swelling on her brain shrinks. She also has a broken arm, ribs and a leg.’
Margot steadies herself against the doorframe with her hand.
