This thread is nothing but an underhand, cowardly bit of gossip. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. 10:37
FORTY
October, the previous year
It was night. Dark. She rested her head on the window and looked up at the motorway lights, flashing past in a regular rhythm. It was quiet because it was so late.
When she saw the lorry move across the lane, she thought it was overtaking at first. But it kept on coming. Closer and closer. Getting bigger and bigger. And then its huge thundering bulk was towering over their small car and it was impossible to get away. Sandwiched between the lorry and the crash barrier, the lorry struck the passenger side of their car.
She’d never heard a sound like it. It was deafening, ripping at her ears. Buckling metal, crushed so that it filled the seat that was there, squeezing the occupant with it as it concertinaed inwards.
Then screaming.
She always asked herself the same questions. What had gone through his mind when the lorry hit them? Was he scared? Did he feel the impact? What was it like for him when he died?
FORTY-ONE
Wednesday 18 November
There was a splat of dried tomato sauce under the kitchen table. Lorna only noticed it when she’d gone to sit down opposite her mum, two coffees in hand. She’d tidied before Carol came over – a rapid shove of toys into boxes, a squirt of bleach down the toilet – but she’d missed the remnants of last night’s tea on the floor. She hoped Carol wouldn’t notice – for some reason it made Lorna feel substandard in her mother’s eyes. Not that Carol was ever judgemental, not openly anyway. No, it was more that she wanted to prove she’d achieved some sort of level of success. One that was like the families depicted in the home and garden magazines Lorna bought, where children played prettily in bright, immaculate rooms and the mother, dressed impeccably in coordinated neutrals, held a mug of coffee and looked up smiling from a laptop on the kitchen counter having just closed another business deal worth several million. Or at least that was what Lorna always imagined was going on from the relaxed, satisfied expressions.
She had been in two minds about inviting her motherover – especially after what happened the last time they’d met. She was still a bit wounded at her mother’s incredulous response to the suggestion she help shape her own grandchildren – it hadn’t beenthatbad an idea. There were many grandparents who were kept at arm’s length and would positivelyjumpat the chance to be involved, and here she was offering an opportunity on a plate that had been quickly dismissed.
‘I’d offer you cake, Mum, but all I’ve got are some very bright orange cupcakes from Halloween.’ Lorna peered at the half-eaten pack dubiously. ‘In fact...oh, they’re out of date.’
‘By how long?’ asked Carol.
‘Yesterday.’
‘They’ll still be OK.’
Lorna was secretly disgusted when her mum popped one in her mouth.
‘Did the kids dress up?’ asked Carol.
‘Pepper went as a witch with her friend Amber, and Phoenix went out for the first time on his own with his friends andno parents. So I was at home for the first time in years.’
‘Made a nice change?’
‘Yes...’ Actually, Lorna had been late to the party when it came to knowing about the incident in the park. She’d only heard about it when she’d taken Phoenix to football practice a few days later and one of the other mums had mentioned something. ‘You heard what happened?’ she asked Carol.
‘No?’
Lorna regaled her mother with the story of the fake-blood incident and, more to the point, the way Nancy had manhandled Rosie in the playground. This part of the tale she was able to retell with great relish as she’d witnessed it first-hand.
‘It was awful, Mum. She wouldn’t let go and Rosie wasscreaming—’
‘Screaming?’ asked Carol.
‘Well, crying out...or at least she would have been if Nancy wasn’t so scary, you know. It obviouslyhurt. And then James had to come over and pull her away. Actually, physically, get her away from Rosie.’
‘I’m not sure that’s true.’
‘Why not?’ asked Lorna, put out.
‘Well, maybe not quite as you say it.’
Lorna ignored the remark. ‘I tell you, she’s done herself no favours. The mums are outraged. You should see the messages on WhatsApp.’
