First Born(46)

Until now.

We pull up outside the hostel in Midtown and the streets are almost empty of people. Dad takes his time with the box of ashes. I hold the hostel door and then together we walk upstairs. He puts the box down gently on their bed. We hug in the hallway outside our rooms and it feels good to be in this hug, just the three of us. They finish packing and then we meet again in the hall.

‘Where are your bags, Molly? I’ll take them down for you,’ says Dad.

I check to make sure Mum is within earshot.

‘Mum, Dad. I’m so sorry but I have to tell you something.’

Mum frowns and Dad rubs his forehead.

‘What is it, sweetie?’ says Mum.

‘You’re going to be angry,’ I say.

‘Of course we’re not,’ says Dad. ‘Only tell us quickly, Moll. The cab’s outside waiting.’

‘I don’t know where to . . .’

Dad checks his watch and Mum says, ‘Paul, stop stressing. Listen to Molly.’

I swallow.

‘I’m not coming with you.’

‘I knew it,’ says Mum. ‘Paul, I told you she wouldn’t fly in this storm. Sweetie, I understand, I really do.’

‘If it’s not safe for planes to take off then they won’t let us fly,’ says Dad. ‘They’re the experts. Look, let’s talk about this at the airport, shall we? Or in the cab on the way there; we really need to get going. We don’t have enough on our credit cards to buy any more tickets; this isn’t a game.’

‘You two go and I’ll come back in a few days, a week maybe.’

‘We’ll stay here with you,’ says Mum.

Dad looks at her. ‘Have you both gone mad? We paid almost fifteen hundred pounds for these tickets, on credit. Grab your bags, both of you, and let’s get in the cab.’

‘It’s the way they present the news here,’ says Mum. ‘They make it sound like the end of the world, like there’ll be a tidal wave or something.’

Dad’s face is turning red. ‘Molly, Liz, please! Let’s talk about all this in the cab. This isn’t funny.’

‘I’ll walk down with you,’ I say.

I help them with their bags. Dad holds the box.

The cab’s waiting outside.

‘We can ask about turbulence when we get to JFK, Molly,’ says Mum. ‘Put your mind at rest. Come with us – it’s the safest way to travel, your father looked it up.’

‘It’s not just the storm,’ I say. ‘I want to stay for KT. Help the police some more. I think if I fly home tonight they’ll prioritise some other case, some missing person or a new homicide. I just need another week here to get my head straight and help Martinez.’

Mum meets my eyes and she realises I’ve made up my mind. She sees there’s no point in debating this.

‘Molly, this is not—’

‘She’s twenty-two, Paul,’ interrupts Mum. ‘I want her to come but we can’t force her.’ She puts her palms to my cheeks, cupping my face. ‘I love you, Molly Raven.’

‘I love you too, Mum.’

She gets into the cab and Dad places the box next to her and helps the driver lift the suitcases into the boot.

Dad looks confused, but doesn’t try to argue any more. He says, ‘I can’t force you to come. But please stay in the hostel until this storm is over, don’t go out and about tonight.’

‘I won’t.’

‘We love you, your mum and me.’ His voice cracks. ‘We think the world of you, Moll.’

‘I know.’

He gives me a brief hug and says, ‘Call if you need anything,’ then gets into the cab.

Mum winds down her window and yells, ‘You got money for the hostel for a whole week?’

‘Violet Roseberry says I can sleep on her sofa,’ I lie.

‘Violet’s a good girl,’ says Mum.

‘Fly safe,’ I say.

Mum blows me a kiss and Dad winds up the window and their cab disappears into the wet, shiny streets of Midtown Manhattan.





Chapter 24


I sleep for sixteen hours straight.

When I wake up the storm has gone; it has passed right over me and blown itself out.

I stretch and feel like a brand new person. My eyes are clear and my breathing is slow. I am calm to the core. Renewed.

The first thing I do is check the news notifications on my phone, then the BBC News app, then Twitter, searching for any sign of a lost plane or a crash. Thank goodness there is nothing. And then a text comes through from Mum. Landed safely. Back home now. Dad sends his love.

I am in New York all alone and it feels truly wonderful.

After a hot shower I step out on to the street and the air is still. No wind at all. I pace over to Jimmy’s food cart.

‘Morning, stranger.’

‘Hi, Jimmy. You didn’t get blown away, huh?’

He shakes his head and smiles, ‘I told you it wasn’t a big deal, not like Sandy. This was a fart in a paper cup.’

‘I need some advice.’

‘And you come to me?’

‘Do you ever go back to Afghanistan?’

‘I thought you wanted advice?’

‘You ever go back, Jimmy?’