The Dilemma(65)

‘I know,’ he says. ‘But not tonight.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Josh says. ‘Why can’t she?’

‘Because she can’t, that’s all. Any other night she’d be welcome. But not tonight.’

‘So you are blaming her for me not taking up the internship in the States!’

‘Don’t be stupid!’

Josh mouth drops open at Adam’s tone and I can see he’s about to kick off. I shoot him a warning look.

‘Josh.’ Adam sounds bone-weary, as if he barely has the strength to speak. ‘Don’t keep arguing. Amy isn’t staying the night, alright.’

‘No. Not alright.’ Josh folds his arms across his chest. ‘If Amy goes, I go.’

‘Sorry, Josh, I need you here,’ he says firmly.

‘What for? We’re only going to go to bed. Dad, you’re being ridiculous!’

‘I just want it to be family. Is that so hard to understand?’

‘It’s alright, Josh.’ Amy’s voice comes from behind us. ‘I can stay with my friend Maggie tonight – you know, the one who lives in Guildford. I already told her I might as I have to be at Grandad’s tomorrow for his party and she lives nearby. It makes sense for me to stay at hers.’

Adam turns to where she’s standing in the doorway and I wonder how much she heard.

‘I’d really appreciate that, thank you, Amy,’ he says, his relief evident.

‘It doesn’t make sense,’ Josh growls.

Amy lays a placating hand on his arm. ‘It’s really not a problem. And I’m sure your dad has a good reason.’

‘Then why the hell won’t he tell us what it is?’

‘Well, maybe he can’t tell you.’ She gives a little shrug. ‘It’s like that sometimes in families. Things happen.’ She gives Adam a quick smile.

‘I’ll call you a taxi,’ he says. ‘Where did you say your friend lives?’

‘Guildford.’

Josh takes out his mobile. ‘I’ll do it.’

Thankfully, the taxi arrives quickly so the agony of us all standing in the kitchen, Josh with his arm around Amy but no-one talking, doesn’t go on for long.

‘We’ll see you again, Amy,’ Adam says. ‘Thank you for understanding.’

I give her a hug and murmur a quick sorry. Josh takes her out to where the taxi is waiting, and there’s only me and Adam.

‘Shall we go to bed?’ I ask.

‘Yes. But there’s something I’ve got to do first.’ His face is grey with exhaustion. ‘Will you wait for me upstairs?’

I feel a rush of alarm. Surely he’s not going to try to call Marnie now, ask her if she’s been having an affair with Rob?

I put my hand on his arm. ‘Can’t it wait until tomorrow?’

‘No.’ He moves away and my hand drops to my side. ‘I’ll see you in a minute.’





3 A.M. – 4 A.M.





Adam


I’m on the floor of my shed, teetering on the edge of a void. I don’t know how long has passed since I called the emergency number and heard that my daughter, Marnie Sarah Harman, was a passenger on flight PA206.

Time no longer has any meaning. All hope has gone, there’s only darkness. All I want is for it to take me, as it took Marnie. But there’s no mercy, just the stark knowledge that she is dead.

I hunch over, my head on my knees, my hands clasped around my legs, a useless attempt to protect myself from what has already happened. I squeeze my eyes shut to block out the images of Marnie’s last moments. It doesn’t work. All I can hear are her screams.

How will I live, knowing that I wasn’t there when she needed me most? If I’d been with her, I’d have buried her face in my shoulder and wrapped my arms tightly round her so that she wouldn’t have seen death coming. Even if, weeks or months down the line, we’re told that Marnie wouldn’t have known a thing, that the plane exploded without warning, there’d still be the possibility that she was alive when she started falling from the sky.

Crushed by an all-consuming, hopeless, terrible grief, I’m barely aware of the sobs that wrack my body, the tears that stream from my eyes. What was I thinking, making her take three flights to get home, when she could have taken a direct one? By not wanting to spoil her, I tripled her chances of dying. My body contorts in pain and I feel a flash of hatred for Livia. I would have got Marnie the more expensive direct flight, but I knew she’d disapprove, because of Josh and how he’d feel. For a moment, I hate Josh too. But he would be horrified that I’d made his sister take three flights just because I’d made him take two. And didn’t the short time she was going to be spending with us – four days – justify a direct flight? The only person I can blame is myself. How could I have been so stupid, so short-sighted – so illogical?

Eventually, life intrudes, bringing with it a dull awareness that there are things I have to do. Cleo, I’d promised to tell Cleo.

I find my phone, search for her name, press the ‘message’ symbol. What can I even say to her? I can’t think, nothing seems right. The only words I find are Cleo, I’m sorry. And then I wait for her to message me back, my eyes fixed on the screen, desperate to know that I’m not alone.