With that, he turns round and strides into the house, slamming the door behind him. Anna shrugs, then unlocks the car. She’s not going to think about her terror of driving, or the fact she swore she’d never do it again. She’s not going to think about the fact that she doesn’t have a licence, either. She’s just going to do it. There’s no time for anything else. She’ll worry about it all later.
The tank’s half full at least, so she’ll be able to get some distance in before she needs to stop. She’ll buy a charger then, call Rachel and Lucy. For now, she needs to get on with it. She puts her hands on the steering wheel, taking in a deep breath. Only six hundred miles to go.
55
Lucy knows she’s got the easy part of the job, sitting in a hotel room until she’s picked up, but her anxiety is going through the roof, her imaginings darker and darker. She’s desperate to leave, but it’s impossible. She’s got to wait. She reads through Rachel’s phone number again and again until the number is fixed in her brain, but there’s no point calling it. Realistically, she knows she’s going to have to spend the night here, but as the light fades, her mood plummets, and her sleep is restless and full of nightmares.
She’s so relieved to see Rachel the following day that she bursts into tears as soon as she hears the knock on the door, only just resisting the temptation to throw herself on to Rachel’s neck and hug her half to death.
‘I’m sorry it’s taken so long, but I had to pick up Edgar’s car from town, then drop stuff with Edgar’s sister for Rowan. The poor baby wouldn’t settle for hours, and I ended up falling asleep too. You all right?’ Rachel says, looking at Lucy’s bad arm.
Lucy’s fashioned a sling from a pillowcase. ‘It’s not as bad as it was yesterday,’ she says. ‘I don’t think it’s broken.’
‘Thank God for that. The last thing we need right now is a visit to A and E,’ Rachel says. She looks around the room. ‘Luxurious as this is, I think we’d better make a move back.’
Lucy’s ready to go. She follows Rachel out to the car park.
‘My neighbours are very worried about car thieves in our street now,’ Rachel says, unlocking the car.
Lucy gets in. ‘Why?’
‘I had to report my Mini as stolen after the crash. The police came round this morning. They’d traced the vehicle back to me and wanted to see if I knew who was driving.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Lucy says. ‘I did my best.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Rachel says, reversing the SUV smartly out of its tight space and manoeuvring round the car park to the exit. ‘You were lucky it was no worse.’
Lucy is picking at the skin around her nails. ‘Are the police after us? Anna and me?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Rachel says. They emerge on to the motorway opposite the site of the accident. Lucy peers over, trying to see if there’s any trace of the crash. Nothing she can see from here, although there must still be debris, bits of broken glass scattered along the tarmac.
‘No one died?’
‘No one injured, even. Other than you.’
‘Have you heard anything from Anna yet?’
‘Not yet, no.’
‘I feel terrible for leaving her on her own to deal with it,’ Lucy says.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Rachel says again. ‘Accidents happen. You’d have gone with her if you could.’
‘Where’s Edgar?’ Lucy says, suddenly realising she hasn’t asked. ‘Is he still at your house?’
Rachel nods. ‘I locked him in our room. Just in case.’
They fall into silence. Lucy is falling asleep and though she tries to keep her eyes open, she can’t. She’s just so tired.
‘Wake up,’ Rachel says. ‘Wake up. We’re here.’
She must have slept for hours. They’re parked outside the house in Oxford, Rachel’s hand on her arm shaking her awake.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be out cold the whole way,’ Lucy says.
‘You must have needed it.’
They go into the house together. It’s dark, the curtains closed in the front. Rachel takes her through to the kitchen and puts the kettle on, gesturing at the chairs round the table. Lucy takes the cue, sits down. Despite her long sleep, she’s still exhausted. Rachel goes out of the room and Lucy hears muffled shouts from upstairs, thumping.Edgar.She stiffens, wondering if she should go to help, but then Rachel comes back into the kitchen, her face drawn. Without mentioning the noise that’s coming from the room above, she makes two cups of tea and brings them over to the table, sits down beside Lucy. She’s looking tired. The last couple of days have been tough on her, too. From the moment Lucy and Edgar arrived at the house on Sunday to find the police there, it’s been relentless.
