by Rona Halsall
Izzy gave a satisfied nod.
‘If you’re sure you don’t mind?’
Izzy laughed. ‘You’re a hard one to help, aren’t you? I said I didn’t mind. Why can’t you just accept that I want to support you in any way I can?’
Martha smiled. ‘I’m sorry I’m being such a dick. I’m really grateful for everything, Izzy. Really.’
Izzy laughed. ‘Well, don’t look so scared.’ She leant over the table and squeezed Martha’s arm. ‘I’m just a bit rusty at driving. I’m sure I’ll be a bit more confident tomorrow and speed up.’ Martha opened her mouth to speak, but Izzy beat her to it. ‘We’ll set off early. Soon as it’s light, okay?’
Martha nodded. What other option is there?
She finished her drink, put her glass on the table, and rubbed at the tension in her shoulders. It was important to get to Cornwall quickly, not just because she’d promised her mum, but because she wouldn’t believe she was safe from suspicion regarding Greg’s death until she was home. They were still in Wales, on the doorstep of the crime, and now she had to wait until morning to get away. It was going to be a long night, no doubt about it. And tomorrow was going to be a long day, stuck in a car on A roads.
Izzy stood. ‘Let’s go back to the car, see if we can get comfy enough to get some sleep. You know, if I could just get a few hours, we could set off. The roads will be quieter in the dark, won’t they? Then I can be as slow as I like.’
Martha gave her a smile, encouraged that at least the timescale had shrunk a little, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day.
Seventeen
Martha
Now
To her surprise, Martha fell asleep almost straight away. Even the orange glow from the street lights couldn’t keep her awake.
She woke to find it was pitch-black and sat up, peering around to see the surroundings were completely different to when she’d gone to sleep. She frowned, thoroughly confused. Where’s the pub? Where are we?
She shook Izzy’s shoulder and she woke with a gasp. ‘Bloody hell, Martha!’ she snapped. ‘You scared me to death.’ She clasped a hand to her chest, eyes glinting in the darkness.
‘Sorry. I…’ Martha felt wounded by the sharpness of her words, unnerved by these two personas Izzy seemed to have, and she shrank back against the door.
‘Hey, doesn’t matter. I was dreaming, that’s all.’ Izzy wiped her hands over her face. ‘Phew. It was a bad one. Glad you woke me up, actually.’
Martha could hear a buzzing noise and she wondered if that’s what had woken her. ‘Is that you? That noise? Is it your phone?’
Izzy squinted at the screen. ‘Four o’clock.’ She stretched and yawned, rubbed her eyes. ‘Should be nice and quiet on the roads now.’
‘But where are we?’ Martha peered through the window as if she’d be able to see anything in the pitch-black of the night.
‘Oh, I couldn’t sleep, so I drove on a bit last night. We’re just south of Bristol. I think we’ve done the tricky bit.’
Martha sagged back in her seat, so relieved she couldn’t speak for a moment. We’ll be there by lunchtime. She gave Izzy a smile. ‘Oh, that’s brilliant. Thank you so much.’
She leant over and gave Izzy a hug and Izzy held her tight. A little tighter than was comfortable and for a little longer than was necessary.
‘I told you I’d get you there,’ she murmured into Martha’s hair. ‘Should be in Truro before noon, I’d say.’ She released her at last. ‘Since we’re awake anyway, shall we just get going?’
Martha adjusted her seat and fastened her seat belt, delighted that they were setting off so early.
The snail-like speed of Izzy’s driving was still a cause for concern, but Martha was in no position to complain. It wasn’t like she could offer to drive, given that she hadn’t passed her test, and although her right foot kept pressing down on an imaginary accelerator pedal, she told herself that they were getting closer. Plenty of time to get there. Visiting wasn’t until after lunch, anyway, and they’d be there well before then. At least they were out of Wales; that fact alone was a comfort.
The car lurched to the left and into the forecourt of a filling station, the first they’d seen that was open in almost an hour of driving. Izzy parked in a dark corner by the side of the building.
‘Thank God for that,’ she said, leaning her forehead on the steering wheel. ‘I have never needed a coffee more in my entire life.’ She turned to Martha. ‘You want one?’
‘Hell, yeah,’ Martha said, relieved that they’d stopped. ‘I’m desperate for the loo. I’ll come in with you.’
Her spine creaked as she got out of the car, her limbs stiff with sleep, her bum numb with sitting for so long. She leant against the car and shook her legs to get the circulation going.
‘Come on,’ Izzy said, locking the car. ‘I don’t want to be here too long. CCTV and all that.’
Martha shivered as all the memories came flooding back. Greg’s face when he saw her at the door. Appalled, horrified. Greg on the floor, moaning. Her heart gave a little flip. It wasn’t me, she reassured herself. It wasn’t.
But it might have been, said another voice in her head. You know it. An accident, for sure, but it could have been you that killed him.
The very idea of it put lead in her limbs and she dragged herself after Izzy, into the stark lighting of the service station. She squinted, looking for the toilets. The young man at the till looked up then went back to doing whatever he was doing on his phone.
Ten minutes later, they set off again with cups of coffee and microwaved bacon rolls. Martha rolled her eyes when Izzy pulled in a little further down the road, her frustration threatening to burst out in angry words. For God’s sake, she thought, the voice in her head an angry hiss. Can’t we just get going?
Izzy glanced her. ‘What?’ she snapped, and Martha realised she hadn’t hidden her feelings as well as she’d thought. ‘I can’t do anything other than drive. No multi-bloody-tasking. So we’ll have to stop and eat.’ She took a bite of her roll, talking with her mouth full. ‘I’ll eat as fast as I can.’
She sounded peeved and Martha reminded herself that Izzy was doing her a massive favour by driving her all the way to Cornwall. If she pissed her off too much, she might just dump her by the side of the road and head off back to Yorkshire.
‘Sorry,’ she said, taking a sip of her coffee. ‘I’m just really wound up about yesterday. And Mum being ill. And jobs and… life in general. It’s all gone to shit.’
Izzy chewed and swallowed. ‘Now don’t go all negative on me. Let’s look at the positives, shall we? It’s only’ – she checked the time on her phone – ‘half past five in the morning. We’re probably only three or four hours away from Truro, so we’ll be there in time for a proper breakfast. Nobody is chasing after us. Nobody knows you were at Greg’s house.’ She shrugged and picked up her coffee, putting the rest of her roll back in the carton. ‘I’ll just drink this and then we’ll be off.’
Martha shuffled in her seat, looked at the cup of coffee in her hand. ‘I’m sorry, Izzy. I sound like such an ungrateful bitch. Ignore me. As you say, we’ve plenty of time. No need to go until you’ve finished eating.’
Izzy rubbed Martha’s shoulder. ‘It’s okay, I know you don’t mean to…’ She looked away and picked up her bacon roll again, took a big bite.
She was going to say moan. Or whine, Martha thought and decided Izzy was right. Although yesterday had been terrible, today could be a lot better. And maybe the best thing was just to face up to everything instead of having this guilt chasing after her. It would never go away, would it, if she didn’t meet it head on?
‘You know, everything you said is right. I was thinking… Well, it might be better if I just called the police. Instead of worrying about something that might be nothing to do with me, I should be helping the police. I know he was alive when I left, I know he was. He was shouting at me, for God’s sake. What if I was the last person who saw him? Wha
t if something I told them helped them to—’
‘No.’ Izzy put up a hand to stop the flow of words. ‘Honestly, it’s not a good idea. The police will sort it out. Better to just let them get on with it.’ Martha opened her mouth to argue, but Izzy cut her off. ‘I said no. I’m not going back. You’re not going back. It’s nothing to do with either of us. None of our business.’
‘But, what if…’ The look on Izzy’s face stopped the flow of Martha’s words.
‘Okay, here’s what I think. I think your mum needs you and we should get to Truro as quickly as possible. I also think that sometimes people die after a bang to the head. Not at the time, but later.’ Izzy threw the rest of her meal into the footwell behind her seat, turned the ignition and started the car. ‘The police can work out what happened. And if it was an accident, then it’s not your fault anyway, is it?’
Martha had no answer and sat in silence while Izzy’s words settled in her mind. She decided that, on balance, she was probably right, her mum was the priority and she should forget about Greg. He was the past, but her mum was the key to her future. She was the one with the answers she was looking for.
As they drove, the sky began to lighten, and so did Martha’s spirits. The coffee started to work its magic, the food settled her stomach and the atmosphere in the car lifted. Izzy was good company and they had so much in common, enjoying the same TV shows and box sets on Netflix. They even liked the same music, and as they chatted, Martha realised that, rather than enduring the journey, she was actually quite enjoying herself.
‘Why don’t you stick around for a few days?’ she said, surprising herself with the invitation. ‘Mum’s going to be in hospital for a little while. We’ve got a spare bedroom, so it’s no problem. And I can show you around.’ It would be nice to have a friend to stay rather than being in the house on her own, she thought. Not only would it be a bit of light relief after all the awfulness, it would take her mind off things, give her less time to worry. If she was alone, she’d have nobody to pull her out of the darkness that lurked in the back of her mind.
Izzy beamed at her before turning her eyes back to the road. ‘Wow, that’d be brilliant! Like I said, I’ve never been to Cornwall, but I’ve watched Coast a few times, and once I knew you lived there, I went on Google Earth and had a look around.’ She laughed. ‘Geeky, I know, but I love Google Earth. You can go anywhere in the world, walk down streets, look at the houses, peek in the gardens. You get a feel for a place even though you’ve never been there.’ Her voice was breathy and full of excitement as she chattered on. ‘I’ve been wanting to come and visit you for ages, but I didn’t dare drive all the way there on my own. And I didn’t really have time with my coursework.’ Her lips wobbled as if she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. ‘Funny how things work out.’
Martha laughed, surprised by Izzy’s keenness, which made her feel a little awkward. Was she a bit too keen, maybe? Like girl-crush keen? She’s lonely, just like me, thought Martha, remembering how they’d talked about it over Messenger – how hard it was to make new friends as an adult, and how lucky they were to have found each other.
‘I can drive you to hospital to visit your mum every day if you like,’ Izzy continued. ‘I know you said public transport is a bitch. And I can help you look for jobs, if you need a lift to interviews or anything.’ Her smile broadened. ‘I’ll help round the house. Honestly, I’ll be no bother at all.’
Martha laughed. ‘Oh, Izzy. You don’t have to do all that. I’ve asked you to stay as a friend not a slave.’ She looked at her for a moment. ‘Remind me again, when do you have to go back?’
Izzy grinned and gave her leg a playful slap. ‘I told you. There’s no hurry. The start of the summer term is slow. I can stay as long as you want me to.’
Martha nodded, her heart giving a little skip. ‘Right,’ she said, worried now that the invitation had been a bit impulsive. How long do I want her to stay? Will it get awkward?
She wondered what would happen when her mum came out of hospital. How she would take to a house guest. But there was no doubting the fact that having Izzy to drive her places would make life a lot easier, and having her to help round the house would be welcome too. More to the point, it would be lovely to have her company.
Mum doesn’t like visitors.
Yes, that was the problem. In fact, in all the time they’d lived in the house, nobody had ever been to stay. She hadn’t even had sleepovers as a child, which struck her as a little odd now. There’d always been an excuse. It hadn’t been convenient, they’d sort something out another time, her mother fobbing her off, and another time never came.
Martha hated being in the house on her own and now she wouldn’t have to be. Having Izzy there would be the best thing, an antidote to anxiety. A problem shared is a problem halved. And Izzy seemed to actually enjoy helping her to sort out problems. They could cook together, tidy the place up, so it was ready for the home inspection. She smiled to herself, feeling more positive now. Izzy was right. The day was looking up.
The news headlines on the radio broke into her thoughts, but nothing was said about a murder in North Wales. She checked her phone, scrolled through a few news channels, but the only place it was mentioned was the local news for Gwynedd. Police were following up leads. No mention of looking for a blonde woman. No photofit picture. She put her phone away, reassured that she was safe, and finally started to relax.
She dozed as Izzy drove, only waking when they stopped for the toilet and another coffee, before setting off again.
‘Only twenty-seven miles to go,’ Izzy said, the relief palpable in her voice.
Martha checked the time. Almost nine o’clock. She was on home territory now, the route to Truro a familiar one.
‘You’re doing great, Izzy. Really great.’
Izzy flashed her a smile.
‘We’ve plenty of time if you want another stop.’
Izzy’s hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, her knuckles white beads against her skin. ‘I’m not stopping till we get there now. I can’t believe I’ve driven all that way.’ She puffed out her cheeks. ‘I can tell you I don’t want to be doing that again in a hurry.’
‘I can’t thank you enough, really. You’ve been brilliant.’
Izzy smiled. ‘It’s just what any friend would do.’
Martha nodded, but she wouldn’t know. She hadn’t ever had many friends, and definitely none that would have driven halfway across the country for her. To her, Izzy’s efforts were pretty heroic.
Her mind wandered as she watched the scenery skim past, dread seeping into her stomach as they got closer to the hospital.
Now she was back, there were so many problems she had to face. Not just her mum’s illness, but how they’d cope afterwards, what they would do about all the debts. When she’d been away, all those problems had shrunk to the back of her mind, her preoccupation with finding her father keeping them small. Now her grief at the death of Pete and then Greg hurtled to the front and centre of her thoughts, swamping her with a sudden rush of sadness and despair. Her world was falling apart around her, and she had no idea how to put it back together again. What did you do when some of the essential pieces of your life had gone forever and there was nothing to fill the gaps?
In that moment, when she felt overwhelmed by what had gone before and what lay ahead, she had a sense that meeting Izzy had been a bit of a godsend. Because now, at least, she had someone to rely on.
Eighteen
Fran
Now
It was half past six when Fran was woken up by the bustle of the morning routine. And what a busy routine it was: observations, breakfast, medication, bed bath and then the doctor coming round. It wasn’t until it was all finished and she was in the lull before lunch that her mind fastened on her problems at home. Money. They needed money or the bailiffs would come and take everything away, and then what? She was well behind with her rent, but at least Anna was lenient on that score. More
importantly, the electricity company were threatening to turn off the supply and she owed for the water. And the oil. Panic fluttered in her chest. I need that money from Greg. She reached for her phone, but Greg hadn’t called. She scowled. He must know I rang him. What’s he playing at? Even if the man who’d answered hadn’t told him, it would be there in the call record.
After a moment, she sent him a text instead.
Sorry to ask, but we need money. I’m not well. Can’t work, Martha lost her job. Just a bit to tide us over. Thanks x
She stared at her message before pressing send, then immediately wondered if she’d done the right thing, a stampede of questions galloping into her mind. Who was the man who answered Greg’s phone? Does it mean Greg’s in trouble? What if he’s been up to his old tricks again? Has the past caught up with him? Her hands flew to her cheeks.
The answers gathered into a couple of horrible conclusions. There was going to be no money coming from his direction. No money! It hit her like a thump to the chest. Her thoughts raced on. What if they’ve found him and that message leads them to us? Another thump to the chest, harder this time, making her groan in agony, alarmed at the sound that her heart monitor was making: a loud bleeping, a light flashing. She was finding it hard to breathe. Pains started shooting down her arm and she clasped at her chest.
A nurse came running over, an alarmed expression on her face; a doctor appeared. More people crowding round her, calling instructions over her head, and the pain intensified until it felt like something huge was sitting on her chest, squeezing the life out of her. People were talking to her, but she couldn’t listen to them, all her attention focused on the pain, the terrible, searing pain.
