Regan had thought she was going to be sick but she’d held it together and packed up the stall in record time. Now she was on her way to the fire station. She swung into the small car park, carefully picked up the baby hedgehogs and beckoned Elvis out of the back seat. She nudged the car doors shut with her bum and rushed inside, where she found Charlie chatting to Eric. His face fell at the sight of Regan.
‘What’s happened? Are they okay?’
‘They’re fine. I have to go. I can’t explain. But you need to take these.’ She thrust the crate into his arms. ‘And Elvis too, because I don’t know when I’ll be back.’
‘Hang on. I’m still working.’ He tipped his head at Eric. ‘I’ll be finished in thirty minutes.’
‘Sorry. Can’t wait.’ She was already walking away. ‘I’ll explain later.’ And she broke into a jog.
‘Reg? Regan!’ he called after her, but she kept going.
She was on the brink of tears when she reached her dad’s place. She went to knock on the door. She needed to see him; to speak to him and try to understand what had happened. There must be some explanation, but try as she might she couldn’t think what it could be – other than that her father had mown down her friend and driven off. There was no answer from his flat, so she knocked again. Inside she saw a shadow move. Either he was in there or he had burglars.
‘Dad, it’s me. It’s important,’ she called through the letterbox, hoping she didn’t sound like she was about to burst into tears. A mix of anger and hurt coursed through her, but she needed to stay composed. Shouting and wailing wasn’t going to make this any better, although it might have relieved the tension building up inside her.
A shadow appeared at the glass and the door opened, but only by a few inches because it was on the chain. Who ever used the chain on a door? The face on the other side wasn’t her father’s.
‘Tar … Tara.’ Regan couldn’t hide her surprise or disappointment. ‘Is my dad in?’
‘Umm. No.’
Clearly a woman of few words.No wonder she gets on with my dad, she thought.
‘I need to speak to him urgently. Please.’ It pained her to have to be polite to the woman.
‘He’s out.’
‘So I gathered. When will he be back?’
‘Well, the thing is … he won’t be back until later,’ said the sliver of Tara’s face that was visible. It didn’t look like she was wearing any make-up, so perhaps that was the reason for the door chain.
‘Okay.’ Regan was losing patience. ‘What time is heback?’
‘About one … tomorrow morning.’ Tara went to shut the door. Tara’s behaviour was fishier than a mermaid’s armpit.
‘Hang on.’ Regan was struggling to control her escalating temper. ‘This is serious. I need to speak to him before then, so—’
‘Sorry,’ said Tara and she shut the door.
‘Hey! You can’t …’ but Regan could see Tara had moved away from the door, so shouting on the doorstep was pointless.
Regan banged on the door, but when that elicited no response she went and sat in her car. Her father didn’t have a mobile phone, so waiting it out seemed like the only option. She didn’t know what to do. She picked up her phone and rang Cleo.
The phone was answered but all she could hear was laughing. ‘Hello?’
‘Shhh. Sorry. Regan. Hi,’ said Cleo, with giggles in her voice.
‘Is this a bad time?’
‘No, it’s an excellent time …’ said Cleo, and more laughter and shushing followed.
‘Oh, bloody hell. I’ve interrupted something. Sorry. Bye.’ She ended the call.
What the hell was she meant to do now? While she was pondering her options, she had another look at the photo of the car on the poster. There was no doubt, with that scarf in the back window, that it was definitely her dad’s car. Her heart sank.
If she approached him he was sure to deny it. But it had to be done. She took a deep breath and tried to order her muddled thoughts. The only shred of hope she had was that it wasn’t him driving that night. Her brain sparked with possibilities. This made so much more sense. If Tara was driving, that would explain her cagey nature with the door chain. It was all starting to fit together.
It was likely her poor dad knew nothing about any of it. But if she waded in there now, Tara would be full of excuses and lies. She couldn’t risk her getting away with this. Regan needed to be calm and act rationally. She needed to think this through. Perhaps she could present her dad with the evidence when he was alone. Or approach Tara on her own. Or go straight to the police. There were too many options.
