Then I return her device to the home screen, place it back where it was and position myself in front of the window facing the lawned gardens that she has an uninterrupted view of.
My back is to her, so she doesn’t spot the smile I can’t peel from my face.
Chapter 60
Liv
Margot and Anna stay with me for the best part of an hour before they sense I’m growing tired. They slip their jackets on and prepare to leave.
‘Thank you so much for coming,’ I say as Anna leans over the bed and hugs me. ‘And thanks to both of you for helping Brandon and his mum with the kids. You’ve been amazing.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ Anna replies. ‘You’d do the same for us.’
‘I’m lucky to have you as friends.’
Margot looks away when I say this. I always assumed she was one of those people who revelled in a compliment. Who actively fished for them. I guess I was wrong. Actually, I think I might be wrong about a few things when it comes to her. She has been there for my family when it really matters. She has her faults, but she has come through for us.
She picks up her handbag and checks her phone.
There’s so much about the day of my hit-and-run that I don’t remember. I don’t recall hearing or seeing the car that knocked me into the ditch or the driver who left me there. I don’t remember my husband finding my body or the paramedics who resuscitated me. Idon’t recall hearing the hospital doctors and consultants discussing putting me into a coma to help alleviate my swelling brain. And I don’t remember them bringing me out of it.
There is, however, one tiny detail that I do recall. And it only comes to me as Margot is hugging me goodbye. And that’s a smell. A pungent, citrusy scent that’s out of place in the roadside ditch where I was left for dead. Yet I remember it as clear as day.
And I think I have just smelled it again.
Chapter 61
Anna
‘Where have you been?’ snaps Drew the moment I enter the kitchen.
I’ve barely set foot over the threshold and he’s already gunning for me. His tone creates a tension in my body, and the intensity of just those few words is like a weight pressing down on my chest. I hold up four bulging bags of supermarket shopping.
‘Where do you think?’ I reply casually, trying to defuse a situation before it arises.
‘You need to see this.’
He thrusts his iPad in front of my face like a weapon. It’s too close to make out what’s on it.
‘Let me put these away first,’ I say and place the bags on the countertop. ‘The rest are in the car if you want to help?’
‘Joanna!’ he says with a raised voice. I bristle and his last aggressive outburst jumps to mind. I placate him because I don’t want to risk a repeat performance.
‘Okay, what’s so important?’
We take seats at the kitchen table. He is where that detective was when Drew killed him. We never talk about it but I wonder if he replays it in his head as often as I do?
Drew’s face and body are animated. A chapter from our long-shared history reappears, a time when amphetamines were part of his day-to-day routine and long before alcohol became the norm. Is he using again?
‘The evening of Liv’s hit-and-run,’ he begins. ‘You know I was on my way home from work and drove past the spot where they later found her?’
We argued about this previously when I asked if he had any involvement. I remain unconvinced by his angry denials because he is often all too willing to climb behind the wheel of a vehicle while over the drink-drive limit. If he hasn’t hurt Liv, it’ll be someone else.
‘And?’ I ask.
‘This morning, I woke up remembering something. A car parked by the side of the road.’
‘Whose car?’
