Beautiful Broken Things(Beautiful Broken Things #1)(54)

I looked at my friend, her arms curved protectively over her face, lying on my bed, shoulders already slack with sleep.

‘I don’t want to be a downer,’ Tarin added in the same low voice, ‘but you do realize you’re going to be in major trouble tomorrow?’

‘I don’t care,’ I said, realizing that I really didn’t. ‘I couldn’t leave her on her own there. And she wouldn’t have been able to get home safely by herself.’

A look of something like pride passed over my sister’s face, followed by a smile. ‘Night, Cadders. If you need me, just come right in and get me, OK?’

I found a bowl in the cupboard by the bathroom and put it by the bed, just in case. I turned the light off and climbed carefully over Suzanne to get to the free side of the bed. I was just settling into sleep when her voice startled me awake.

‘Buonanotte?’ she whispered, almost like a question.

I smiled. ‘Buonanotte.’





I had a vague idea that I would be able to hustle Suzanne out of the house in the morning before either of my parents realized she was there. Unfortunately my mother took it upon herself to walk right into my room before either of us had even woken up.

‘Oh, you are here,’ she said. I’d never noticed how loud her voice was before. ‘I thought I saw your shoes by the door.’

I sat up, realizing as I did so that I was still wearing my clothes from the night before. Suzanne was still in the same position she’d fallen asleep in, on top of the covers, curled in a ball. She’d somehow slept through Mum’s entrance.

Mum came further into the room and sat herself down on the corner of the bed by Suzanne’s feet. The movement on the bed must have woken her, because Suzanne jolted, then sat straight up.

‘What?’ she said, looking at me. She reached up and brushed her mangled hair out of her face, blinking and confused.

‘Um,’ I said, a little helplessly. ‘Morning?’

‘Yes, good morning,’ Mum said drily. Suzanne’s head jerked towards her, her expression suddenly nervous. ‘I’m a little surprised to see the two of you. I thought you were going to be staying with Rosie, Caddy,’ she said, turning to me.

I tried to think of the best way to answer this. Suzanne was dangerously wasted and Rosie was making out with a guy, though truthful, probably wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

‘It was easier to come back here,’ I said finally.

Mum raised her eyebrows, clearly waiting for more. I forced myself to resist the deep-seated impulse to tell her everything and stayed silent.

Finally Mum patted Suzanne’s calf in a friendly way, then said, ‘Why don’t you both get a bit cleaned up and I’ll make you some breakfast. Suzanne, I’m sure Caddy has some clothes you could borrow.’

After we’d both showered and I’d found some lounging clothes that fitted Suzanne, we went downstairs together. In the kitchen, Mum was frying bacon and eggs and Dad was sitting at the table reading the paper. Tarin was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping tea. When she saw me, she threw me a knowing but supportive grin.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’m OK,’ I said, even though my head was throbbing and my stomach had the persistent lurching sensation of a washing machine mid-cycle.

‘I’ve spoken to Sarah,’ Mum said to Suzanne, who blanched. ‘She’ll be here soon to pick you up. It’s interesting – she wasn’t aware there was a party at all. She was quite surprised to hear you’d come here.’

The only thing worse than being told off by your mother is your mother telling off your friend.

‘Coming back here was my idea,’ I said, the only thing I could think of.

Mum gave me a look and I shut up. ‘Why don’t you both sit down and have some breakfast?’ she said.

When Sarah did arrive, not even ten minutes later and wearing the expression of someone deeply, deeply put upon, Suzanne didn’t even bother trying to defend herself. She hunched her shoulders inside her leather jacket and looked down at the floor, avoiding Sarah’s gaze.

‘I’m so sorry, Carol,’ Sarah said. ‘I don’t even know what to say.’

‘I think they both share some of the blame this time,’ Mum replied, putting her hands on my shoulders and squeezing.

Suzanne glanced up at me, a fleeting smirk of solidarity flashing across her face, before putting her head back down.

‘Come on, trouble,’ Sarah said with a sigh, reaching out and taking Suzanne’s arm. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

When they’d gone, I tried to make my escape upstairs, but Mum blocked my way and pointed to the kitchen. ‘In,’ she said. ‘Sit.’

I went in and sat.

‘So,’ Dad began, pressing his fingers together, ‘I think it goes without saying that we expect a lot better from you. Behaviour like this, it’s simply not acceptable.’

Less than a minute in and we were already two clichés down. It was just my luck that I’d ended up in trouble on one of the rare days my dad was actually at home. If it had been Mum, she’d have been disappointed and maybe a little shrill, but I’d have been contrite and it would soon have been over. Dad liked to be overly reasonable, like he was working through a checklist of How To Discipline Your Daughter. We could be here for hours.