To her relief, the shops came into view up ahead. At least she was somewhere public, but she was still stranded, without any clear idea how to rescue herself. Simply to get off the street, she headed for the corner shop. The door buzzer sounded as she stepped inside and the man behind the counter looked up. It was the same little guy with the bald head and the knitted waistcoat who had served her and Naz hours ago. He nodded and went back to stacking mints on the counter display. Cassie wandered along the aisles, conscious of the mirror and the camera tracking her progress. She chose a sandwich from the fridge and a bottle of water. She was still ragingly thirsty and, much as she hated to admit it, Leah had been right: she did need something to counteract the acid in her stomach. At the till the man looked up, smiled and rang through her purchases.
‘Three pounds twenty-five pence, please, Miss.’
Cassie fished out her purse and opened it. It took all of a second for her to realise it had been gutted. All the pockets were empty. No notes. No cards. Leah!
The shop assistant looked on anxiously as she stood on the other side of his counter and fell apart. She started to cry, too tired and scared and sad to stop herself. As the tears dripped off her chin, he came out from behind the display and disappeared down one of the cramped aisles. He returned a few moments later with a pack of tissues. His kindness in splitting open the pack and passing her a handful only made her cry harder.
Chapter 53
‘WHAT THE FUCK?’ Len, the head chef, hollered, but Ryan ignored him. He ran out of the kitchen and banged through the back doors onto the car park, with his phone pressed hard against his ear. The trees thrashed in the wind, making hearing her almost impossible.
‘Cassie. Slow down.’ It took a few attempts before he grasped what she was saying. ‘I’ll come and get you. Stay where you are.’ She said something about still having a ticket for the bus, but Ryan could tell by her tear-thickened, shaky voice that it was the last thing she wanted to do.
Cassie needed him to rescue her.
‘Get yourself to the bus station – there’ll be people around. I’ll be as quick as I can. Forty minutes, tops.’
She thanked him so quietly that Ryan’s anxiety about what had really happened increased.
‘Keep safe. I’ll be there before you know it.’ He ran to his car, stripping off his chef’s jacket as he went.
The guy with the dustpan on the long stick had come past Erin twice. Now he was staring at her blatantly as he wafted his brush at a popcorn spill near the entrance. Not wanting to get into a debate about why she was hanging around a cinema lobby, on her own – looking depressed – Erin removed herself to the Ladies, choosing to lock herself in the cubicle at the furthest end.
She was stuck, trapped by the lie to her parents and the lie to her friends. It was gone seven o’clock. The film wasn’t due to finish until 8.40 p.m. If she rang her dad now, what could she say? But if she didn’t message him, how was she going to get home? She could hardly wait for another hour and a half, then pop out of the loos and ask Hannah if she could hitch a ride. She leant her head against the cubicle stall and tried to resist the wave of self-pity that was building up in her gut. Cassie was creating headaches for all the people who loved her, and she didn’t seem to care.
The only way out was another lie.
Erin started typing, going with the migraine story, but before she had chance to send it, her phone rang. This time she checked who it was before answering – Ryan.
Ten minutes later his Golf screeched to a stop outside the cinema. She got into the front seat. He didn’t wait for her to put her seatbelt on before setting off.
Chapter 54
DESPITE RYAN’S breakneck driving, it still took them three-quarters of an hour to get to Oldham, then he missed the turn onto the high street and had to race round the one-way system again, before finally pulling up at the bus station.
Erin spotted Cassie immediately. She was huddled in one of the shelters, shaded monochrome by the light from the information boards. Ryan parked in the bus bay. Erin had to fight every instinct in her body in order to stay put while Ryan leapt out of the car and went to her sister. Cassie disappeared into his arms, engulfed by his embrace. Erin could hear her crying, even with the doors shut. They stood wrapped around each other, oblivious, as the traffic rolled by. Someone shouted, ‘Get a room’ out of an open window. They stayed glued together, until a bus pulled up behind Ryan’s car. The driver leant on his horn and blasted his indignation, loudly. They split apart.
Cassie climbed in the back, Erin followed her, Ryan got into the front and they set off. Only then did Erin get her chance to comfort Cassie. She’d stopped crying, but she was still shivering. Erin wriggled out of her jacket and gave it to her sister. It wasn’t going to keep her warm, but it was better than nothing, and it was all she had. Cassie put it on. ‘Thanks.’ Her teeth were chattering. ‘What are you doing here?’
Erin forced a smile. ‘I made Ryan bring me. I was worried.’
Cassie didn’t return her smile. ‘I’m sorry. The texts were from Leah, not me.’
Erin felt vindicated. ‘I thought there was something wrong. Why did she send them?’ She could sense Ryan listening to their conversation.
Cassie seemed to have to think before she answered. ‘I’m not sure.’ She paused. ‘She’s not what she seems. Or not what I thought she was.’ Neither Erin nor Ryan said anything. ‘It’s been a really crap day. I’m sorry I’ve had to drag you into it.’ They both made ‘it doesn’t matter’ noises.
Ryan chipped in, ‘Where did you call me from?’
‘A shop. My phone got smashed. The man in the shop was really kind. He saw how upset I was, so he let me ring you.’
‘Smashed?’ Ryan asked.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Cassie said.
The lights blurred by, a continuous bright ribbon against the darkening sky. They were on some sort of dual carriageway, going fast.
Erin was more concerned about how ill her sister looked. ‘Cass, what happened?’
‘It just got out of hand. I shouldn’t have stayed to have a drink with them.’ Erin saw Ryan’s eyebrows rise at the ‘them’. ‘But it’s done with now. That’s all that matters. And it’s shown me a side of Leah I needed to see.’ She pulled Erin’s jacket across her body. It was too small for her. She’d grown out of it years ago.
Deep down, Erin was disturbed to acknowledge that she was pleased the night had gone wrong. Leah must have blown it by doing, or saying, something stupid. Maybe this was the end of it. She hoped so. Cassie was still shivering. The heat in the car didn’t seem to be helping at all. Everything about Cassie seemed out of sync: her speech, her manner, her emotions. She started rubbing her hands together – whether she was trying to warm herself up, or rid herself of something, it was hard to tell.
‘Oh!’ Suddenly Cassie stopped. She sat up straight and stared down at her hands. They looked a sickly orange colour in the glow of the overhead lights.
‘What’s wrong?’ Erin asked.
Cassie shook her head and continued to stare at her fingers. ‘I can’t believe she took it.’
It was the last thing she said.
After a few more miles they re-joined the motorway. Cassie’s head began to nod and she slumped against Erin. Her face slackened as she fell into a heavy sleep. The only sounds were Ryan’s fingers tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel, and the whoosh of the road rushing beneath them. Erin shouldered the weight of her sister gladly, welcoming the familiar, reassuring sensation of being wanted.
It was going to be okay. Leah’s hold over Cassie had been broken. Life could get back to normal. Erin closed her eyes as well, trusting Ryan to get them home safely.
Chapter 55
THE MOOD in the house pivoted when Grace came down from her bath. She walked up to Tom and slid her arms through his, pressing her still slightly damp body to his, saying nothing. She smelt of bubble bath. Wordlessly, they hugged. When she pulled away, she smile
d.
‘Apparently Cassie’s staying over at Freya’s tonight.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ Tom vaguely recognised the name. He thought about questioning the truth of this statement, but stopped himself. Maybe Grace had spoken to Cassie, maybe she’d texted, maybe it wasn’t the truth – whatever, Grace had accepted the explanation of Cassie’s whereabouts, and that was enough. She seemed to have shrugged off the tight skin of anxiety that had encased her when she’d come in, and Tom had no intentions of wrecking the equilibrium. She leant into him again and they stood embracing, relaxing into each other.
Over dinner they talked about this and that. Work, Erin, even the possibility of a last-minute family holiday. It was normal and nice. They didn’t mention Cassie. Grace offered to clear up while Tom ‘surveyed his plot’. The mockery was gentle, loving. The free pass on kitchen duties appreciated.
It was a lovely evening. After the harsh heat of the day, the night air felt softer, less combative. It was easier to breathe. The garden was surviving, but the long weeks of drought were taking their toll. The grass was bleached and dry, but the borders were just about hanging on, relying on their deep roots to get some sustenance. Tom wandered around in the dusk, snapping off dead stems and propping up wilting plants. He felt calm and relaxed for the first time in weeks. He was pleased to see that the apple tree was blight-free. Ambling slowly around the garden, he let his mind empty.
The sound of a phone ringing broke the peace.
He looked at the house. Grace was clearly illuminated in the brightly lit kitchen, but although the ringing continued, she didn’t respond. She carried on drifting around, tidying up. It couldn’t be their phone. Tom turned his attention back to his parched flower beds.
A few minutes later the ringing started again.
This time it sounded louder, more insistent.
He looked back at the house and saw Grace freeze, then turn and dash out of the room. Feeling an inexplicable surge of panic, Tom set off across the garden after her.
Something bad had happened to someone he loved.
He knew in his heart that it was Cassie.
Chapter 56
A&E WAS packed, every seat taken, every wall occupied. So many people seemed to have come a cropper, some of them quite spectacularly, judging by the bruised skin and the oddly angled limbs.
Cassie was one of them.
They spotted her immediately, crushed in among the rows of damaged bodies. The first thing that struck them was the blood; there were rusty brown splashes of it all over her top and jeans. The second was that her face was wrong. She was still recognisably their daughter, but only just. Her face was a mess, her features distorted, her beauty blurred and broken. The third thing that stunned them both was that there was a police officer sitting next to her.
The officer rose and headed towards them, sweeping away any vestiges of hope that he was there with someone else. ‘Mr and Mrs Haines?’ They nodded. ‘I’m PC Naylor. I’ve been with Cassie since we brought her in.’ They looked past him at their daughter. She kept her head down, refusing to acknowledge their arrival. That hurt. ‘She’s had an initial assessment. They’re pretty confident she’s not showing any signs of concussion, which is good news, obviously. We’ve been told to wait out here until someone’s free to clean up the gash on her forehead, but, as you can see, they’re busy, as always.’
‘Thank you.’ They responded in unison, because what else was there to say? Grace moved past the officer and sat on the seat next to Cassie, just in time to stop a man who was holding his arm to his chest like a baby from claiming it. He resumed his slot against the wall, resigned to an uncomfortable wait.
‘What happened?’ Grace asked. Cassie glanced at her mother, and for a second Grace was rewarded with a full view of the damage. There was a deep cut through Cassie’s left brow and the skin around the eye socket was beginning to swell. The ragged edges of the wound were gaping. She had also smashed her mouth. A thick black line of blood precisely bisected her bottom lip; in fact the whole left side of her face looked like it was inflating, softening her features into those of a broken, round-cheeked doll. A tear leaked out of the corner of her battered eye: pain, shame, fear, anger? It was impossible to say. Grace reached out to take hold of her daughter’s hand, but Cassie turned her face away without a word and went back to staring at the wall-mounted TV.
The officer looked from Grace to Tom. ‘I haven’t been able to get much out of her since we brought them in. Shock, probably.’
‘Them?’ Tom asked.
‘My colleague’s with the young man who was driving. He’s just come back from X-ray. A suspected busted leg.’
‘Cassie…what the hell?’ Tom’s sharpness drew the attention of the people in the waiting area. The intermittent crackle of the officer’s radio only served to add to the excitement. Many of them stared, without embarrassment, happy to have a domestic drama to distract them from their injuries and ailments. Cassie remained silent in the face of such scrutiny. Tom turned his attention back to the officer.
‘Was it Ryan…Ryan Newsome?’
‘Yes.’
The noise Tom made summed up his disgust and his lack of surprise. ‘What happened?’
‘They were clocked speeding near the M606. When we flagged him to pull over, he didn’t. He cut off down the spur road, but he misjudged the bend, took it too quickly and came off. Luckily, they didn’t hit anyone else. The barrier stopped it being as bad as it could have been. We radioed for the ambulance straight away, and they were on the scene fairly quickly.’
For a second there was silence, as the reality of the situation sank in. Cassie continued to find the comedy panel show on TV more fascinating than the story of how she nearly died.
As Tom was trying to digest this new brand of awfulness, something drew the officer’s attention. A nurse had emerged from behind the scenes and was scanning the waiting area. The officer summoned her over. She edged, deftly, around the sea of outstretched legs. She looked very young, and very tired. ‘The Haines?’ The officer nodded on their behalf. ‘If you could follow me, please. I’ll take you through.’ She was already turning back to where she was needed.
They were both confused as to why they were being asked to go through to see Ryan, though Tom did have a sudden, very clear image of himself crashing through the curtains of a cubicle, grabbing hold of Ryan and doing something he might later regret. Cassie rose to her feet.
‘No. Just your mum and dad for now – you wait there.’ Cassie thumped back down onto her seat. ‘It’s okay,’ the nurse reassured them, misinterpreting their hesitation, ‘she’s okay. She’s obviously quite badly shaken up, but from what the officers told us, they’ve all been very lucky.’
‘She?’ Tom and Grace were confused. It seemed odd that the nurse was talking about Cassie in the third person when she was sitting right in front of them.
For a second the nurse looked as perplexed as them. ‘Yes. Your daughter. Erin. She’s been asking for you.’
Erin burst into tears the minute they appeared. She was sitting awkwardly on a gurney, her head held at an unnatural angle, a hospital blanket tangled around her legs. Tom and Grace were both so shocked by events that it was hard to take things in. Cassie and Ryan – with Erin, it didn’t compute. And yet the nurse was chatting away quite cheerily, as if it was perfectly normal for a thirteen-yearold to be the victim of a police chase and a car crash, instead of safe, with her friends, in a cinema, eating popcorn and watching the latest Hollywood blockbuster – as she was supposed to be.
The reason for Erin’s odd posture was the brace that encased her neck, a plastic-and-Velcro contraption that looked very uncomfortable. Her face was badly grazed and there was a large shadow of dirt, or oil, or bruising, on her right cheek. She was wearing a hospital gown that was tatty around the neckline; underneath, Tom caught a glimpse of her new top, now ripped and ruined. It seemed a lifetime ago that he’d dropped her off at the restaurant, looking pretty and whole. The
rubber soles of Erin’s beloved Converse poked out of the end of the blanket. They looked oddly everyday and out of context.
‘Mum!’ She sounded very shaky. Grace went and stood close to her youngest daughter, but she didn’t know how best to hug her without causing her pain. Instead she took hold of her hand. Erin squeezed back, hard, which Grace took as a good sign. She couldn’t be that badly hurt if she could grip that fiercely, surely. Tom took up a spot on the other side of the trolley. As he reached out nervously to push her hair away from her face, she recoiled. ‘Dad, don’t. My neck.’ Tom paled on the inside.
The no-nonsense voice of the nurse cut through their confusion. ‘This is Doctor Hassan.’
The doctor, who had appeared as if by magic, flashed them a weary smile and spoke very quickly. ‘Erin has had an X-ray. There are no bones broken, but there is evidence of some ligament damage in her neck, hence the brace. Unfortunately, soft tissue takes quite a while to heal. It’s going to be a case of patience and physio, I’m afraid. She must wear the brace all the time, even at night, until she’s told to start scaling it back. We’ve put in a referral to the Outpatients department, so you should get an appointment through the post in the next few days. She was given…’ he referred to the notes, ‘ten millilitres of pain relief before they did the X-rays, but you’ll need to get her on some paracetamol. She’ll be due a dose at…’ he did a quick calculation, ‘one a.m., but if she’s asleep, don’t bother. Just give her some as soon as she wakes up. I’d keep that up for the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours and then see how you get on.’ At the end of this spurt of information he flashed another quick smile. ‘I’ll leave you in Asha’s capable hands.’ And with swish of wipe-clean curtain, he was gone.
The Forgotten Sister Page 27
