“I loved it the one time I went with school. I remember this one huge room with a domed roof, and there were so many paintings that I didn’t know where to look. I’d never seen anything like it in my life.”
Frank beamed. “Well, it’s time to reunite you now.”
He reached past Libby to hit the stop bell and then began to pull himself up. Libby stood up to help him and felt a sudden rush of blood to her head.
“Everything all right?” Frank said as she grabbed the bar to steady herself.
“Yes, fine. I’m just a bit dizzy.”
“Let’s get you off this bus, then.”
Libby followed Frank down the stairs, grateful for his slow pace. When they stepped onto the pavement, she took a deep lungful of air.
“That better?” Frank said.
“Yes, thanks. I didn’t have any breakfast, so it’s probably low blood sugar.”
“Well, in that case, let’s head to the café first and get you something to eat.”
They began to make their way toward Trafalgar Square, Frank pointing out details of the statues. But Libby couldn’t concentrate; her head felt like it was full of cotton wool, and small white dots were swimming in front of her eyes.
“The fourth plinth over there is now used for contemporary art installations,” Frank said as they walked past the stone lions. “There have been some wonderful ones over the years and... Are you sure you’re all right, Libby?”
“I think I might need to sit down,” she said, feeling herself sway.
“Of course, let’s get you to—” Frank started, but Libby didn’t hear the rest of his sentence, because she felt her knees buckle and then everything went black.
CHAPTER
22
PEGGY
Excuse me if I don’t stay long today, love, but I’ve had the strangest morning.
Have you ever woken up and known that something bad was going to happen? You don’t know what it is, but you’ve got this feeling, deep in your bones, that trouble is on its way. My mother used to say it was like someone walking over your grave, that cold shiver that passes through your body.
Well, I woke up with one of them this morning.
My first thought was that something had happened to David or Maisie and the boys, but I checked my mobile phone and no one had been in touch. I wanted to call David to check, but you know what he’s like; he’d have got annoyed and said I was fussing. So I told myself it was nothing and got up to make my cup of tea. But I couldn’t shift this feeling; it followed me round the flat, whatever room I went in. I tried watching a bit of TV but I couldn’t even concentrate onThis Morning, and you know how much I love that Phillip Schofield.
Anyway, I had my breakfast, got dressed, and headed out to catch the bus. But the whole time I kept looking over myshoulder, like death himself was following me. And then I’m sitting on the 88, trying to distract myself by listening to the conversations around me, and I see a man and his young son get on board, carrying a kite. And that’s when I suddenly remembered.
The last time I felt like this, the same sense of creeping dread.
It was the day you nearly died.
I’m not sure if I ever told you this, but I woke up that morning knowing something bad was going to happen. I thought it was about David, who was always getting into trouble in school at the time. And I remember fretting round the flat all day, waiting for the moment I got the call from the headmaster to summon me in again.
And then there was a knock at the front door, so faint I almost didn’t hear it. So I pulled the door open and there you were, slumped against the frame, looking like you had only hours left for this world.
Do you remember it, Percy? You probably don’t; you were so ill. I don’t know how I managed to drag you to the bedroom, because you were a deadweight in my arms. And when I finally got you into bed, your skin was so cold and your lips were blue. And I remember saying I was going to call the doctor but you grabbed my hand, with surprising force for someone who looked as rough as you did, and refused to let me go.
So I lay in bed next to you, holding you in my arms, praying to a god I didn’t believe in to save you.
I haven’t thought about that day in years: maybe I blocked it out once you got better, or maybe it’s because of what came next for us. But sitting on the bus this morning, filled with that same cold feeling of dread, I remembered it all so well. Itwas like I was back there, lying in bed with you shaking in my arms, wishing with every bone in my body that you’d survive.
And I was thinking about all of this when I heard a noise, a loud siren screaming up behind the bus, and this ambulance came tearing past and swerved to a halt in front of Trafalgar Square. And everyone on the bus craned forward to see what was going on, and as the bus inched through the traffic, I saw a body lying on the ground near one of the lions. It looked like a young woman with bright red hair, and an old man was kneeling next to her, fanning her with a piece of paper. And then the bus moved on, and I couldn’t see her anymore.
