The Things You Didn't See(9)

Dad follows, like a condemned man. ‘How could she have done it?’ he mutters to no one in particular. No one looks my way, I’ve become invisible. Minutes later, they’re out on the gravelled courtyard and the ambulance starts to scream its warning. A blue light is sent swirling around the room as it pulls away. The house is finally silent.

The third paramedic returns. She guides me away from the stairs, where I think I’d wait forever if I could. Her hand tries to steady me, but she must feel how much I’m shaking.

‘Come on, Cassandra. We’ll go in the front room. Take a breath.’

Now you’ve gone, everything looks just the same, the clock is still ticking to the right rhythm. How is that possible? She helps me into the armchair, and lifts the bedding from the sofa so she can perch on the end. Dad slept here last night, after your argument.

I can see her mouth moving, I can hear the words, but they seem to have nothing to do with me. Then something breaks through. ‘Cassandra?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘What did you say?’

‘I was saying I could drive you to hospital, if you like? You probably shouldn’t drive yourself.’

I remember I should call Daniel. ‘Please . . . I need the phone.’ It’s somewhere at the bottom of the stairs, from when I was on the call to the emergency operator. The paramedic goes to fetch it, returning swiftly and watching as I dial. He picks up immediately.

‘It’s me.’

‘Cass? What’s happening?’

‘It’s Mum. She’s just been taken to hospital in an ambulance. She’s been shot.’ Three short sentences, not enough to convey the confusion and mass of questions in my head.

‘Is she alive?’

Poor Daniel – he’s always loved you, and you him. He’s the son you never had, the man who cured your cancer.

‘Just,’ I say. Then I can’t say any more.

‘Keep strong, love. It’ll be okay. I’ll meet you at the hospital.’

He doesn’t ask who shot you, or for any details, and I’m grateful.

As I disconnect, I realise there’s something happening in the hallway. Someone has arrived to disturb the silence. A voice is calling my name. For a moment, I don’t recognise Ash when he finds me. He’s shockingly pale, his scruffy sandy hair dangles in his eyes. Never the cleverest of men, now he looks utterly dumbstruck. His thin fingers agitate the frayed edging of his battered wax jacket.

‘Cass! How’s Maya?’

An angry thought follows: What the fuck’s it got to do with you? You’re only the housekeeper’s son.

The paramedic follows behind him, looking concerned. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t think she’s able to talk at the moment, she’s just had a terrible shock. Why don’t you come back later, when things are more settled?’

‘I have a right to be here!’ He turns aggressively, then stops when he sees her face, his eyes widening with recognition. ‘What are you doin’ here?’

‘I’m a trainee paramedic. I’m here as part of the emergency response.’

Ash looks around him, confused. ‘Where’s Hector?’

‘Mr Hawke has gone to the hospital, with his wife.’

‘Is Maya gonna be okay?’ He’s usually the last to catch on, yet he’s grasped the situation far quicker than me.

‘We don’t know yet,’ she says. ‘I hope so.’

Ash moves from one foot to the other, still watching the paramedic. ‘It is you, isn’t it? The sister.’

‘Holly Redwood. Jamie’s sister.’ She glances at me, her skin flushes. ‘I used to live round here, on the airbase.’

Ash remembered her, and now she’s said her name it sounds familiar to me too. I examine her face again – her caramel skin dusted with dark freckles over her nose, her very dark eyes. She’s studying me with an intensity that makes me uneasy. I feel like I’ve been unwrapped and everyone is seeing the very fibres of my being. I want to go back to sleep, and wake to find this is all a bad dream. I want Ash gone.

‘Holly, can you show Mr Cley out so you can drive me to the hospital. He doesn’t belong here right now.’

Ash looks at me, disbelieving, his mouth hanging open. ‘Cass, what do you mean? I’d do anythin’ for you and your family, you know that. It should be me drivin’ you!’

I can see Holly assessing the situation, wondering what to do.

‘He just works for us, you probably remember that.’ I refuse to catch his eye. ‘Dad employs him to manage the pigs and the poultry, and he lives in the cottage we own, down the lane. That’s all.’

‘That’s all?’ he repeats, gormlessly shaking his head so his dirty-blond hair falls in his eyes. ‘Cass . . .’

‘Go away, Ash,’ I say, my fingers straying to the scar on my collarbone. ‘You’re not welcome.’

He blinks, fighting back tears of surprise. Holly takes advantage of his momentary shock to guide him outside. His head is droopy, his chin almost to his chest. He doesn’t want to go, but he has no choice.

Finally, I’m alone as I’ve never been, not here at the farm. I came here yesterday because I needed your help, Mum – I was slipping again. I was so wrapped up in myself, I didn’t see this coming. I hear footsteps, Holly returning, and before I can stop myself I say, ‘I don’t believe my mum shot herself.’