The Things You Didn't See(34)
We arrive back, wet and tired. I’m pulling off my walking boots by the back door, Holly is unclipping Jet’s lead, when we hear men’s voices, bickering loudly, coming from the front room. Jet, unclipped, scrambles to his water bowl, spraying it over the floor as he laps it up.
‘Who’s here?’ Holly asks, alert to the possibility that something has happened.
I stand still to listen. ‘Daniel and Dad . . . and someone else.’ At first I think it’s Clive, but then I listen closer. It’s him, here in my house. ‘And Ash.’
Jet lifts his head, ears pricked. He barks and runs through to find his master.
All three men fall silent when Holly and I walk into the room. They look at us as if we’ve discovered their dirty secret. Daniel stands in front of the unlit fire, leaning against the mantel as if for support. Dad sits close beside Ash on the sofa. Ash fusses over Jet like a boy with his favourite puppy, his lanky hair dangling over his eyes as he scruffs Jet’s head, but he doesn’t fool me. I know what he’s capable of, despite his feigned naivety. On the coffee table is an open bottle of bourbon and Daniel is nursing a tumbler as he rocks on the balls of his feet. I’ve never known him to drink in the daytime before.
‘Ladies, hi,’ says Daniel, regaining his poise. ‘Where have you been?’
The men are wary of Holly. None of them have started to relax around her like I have. ‘Walking Jet,’ she says. ‘We walked to the marshes – I haven’t been there in years. I’d forgotten how dramatic this part of Suffolk is.’
No one responds to this. We’re like actors who’ve forgotten our stage directions.
‘We were worried about you, Cass,’ Daniel says. ‘You didn’t take your phone.’
I slide my hand into the back pocket of my jeans and there it is. But when I check, it’s not switched on. ‘Why, is there news from the hospital?’
‘Dr Droste said they’re slowly reducing the barbiturates, and taking out the tube to see if Maya can breathe on her own. I said we’d be there this afternoon, so Hector can sign his permission as her next of kin.’
I hate that phrase and all that it means. What it could mean, if you don’t start breathing on your own and a machine has to keep you alive.
‘Love, you can’t just go out without telling anyone. Promise me you won’t do that again?’
‘I’m not a child, Daniel.’ I won’t promise him anything. He lied about visiting Victoria. He told her I was sick. He lied about where he was – and I don’t know why.
I drop into the armchair nearest the sofa and Ash lifts his head from Jet’s fur. His eyes are red and watery, making him look even more sorrowful than usual.
‘I wanted to visit Maya yesterday, Cass, but the nurse said only family are allowed in.’
Daniel finishes his drink, clinks the glass down on the mantelpiece. His usual poise is gone, his normally neat hair is ruffled and there’s stubble on his chin. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea, Holly? Cass?’
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ says Holly, who’s standing discreetly by the door, deciding whether she should stay or leave. I can see that her curiosity will win.
‘We’ll both have one of those.’ I nod at the bourbon.
Daniel hesitates, and I dare him to say I shouldn’t. ‘I’ll fetch some glasses.’
Dad pats Ash’s knee with his good hand. ‘I’ll speak to ’em at the hospital, explain that you’re as good as family. And don’t worry about the police – it’s just routine, that’s all.’
‘What’s routine?’ Holly asks, then blushes at her own pushiness.
Daniel returns with two shot glasses from the drinks cabinet then fills them with stingy portions from the bottle, handing one to Holly. ‘When there’s been an attempted suicide like this, the police have to go through the motions, just to be sure there’s nothing suspicious about it. Of course, as Maya’s in a coma they can’t ask her, so they’ve interviewed Ash and Janet, because Janet discovered Maya first, and they both live closest to the farmhouse.’
Holly glances at me, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing: If I’m right and someone else shot Mum, it could be either of them.
‘They recorded my interview on camera.’ Ash shifts in his seat, casts a wounded glance at me then looks away. ‘I felt like a criminal.’
He begins to cry but Dad pats his arm and he stops. I try to remember when Dad last touched me. ‘Don’t fret, son. I’m sure you didn’t say anythin’ wrong.’
Dad’s concern for him itches under my skin like a rash. Ash isn’t his ‘son’. Ash’s mother isn’t lying unconscious in a hospital bed with a bullet hole in her head. I finish my drink in one, reach for the bourbon and refill my glass to the brim.
‘The police wanted to know how well we all got on.’ His face flushes pink, and he glances at Holly. I sense he’s hiding something, afraid to say it because she’s here.
‘Don’t worry, you can talk in front of Holly. She’s my friend.’
‘You think so?’ He chews the inside of his mouth. ‘You haven’t seen her in twenty years, Cass. Me and you, we’ve grown up together. That’s real friendship.’ He looks at me hopefully, those wide eyes of his so like those of a desperate child, but he’s deluded. ‘I told ’em how we used to bunk off lessons sometimes, Cass – go to the barn and build houses with the bales of straw.’