Then She Vanishes(52)
‘I’ve not had alcohol. Have you?’
Jess looked sheepish. ‘Yeah. At Christmas Mum lets me have a Snowball. And at Gina’s party a few months ago we had some cider.’
Heather stared at her friend with a mixture of awe and disapproval. She knew Gina and her cronies still had time for Jess. It was just her they glared at when they walked past. She’d never got an invite to Gina’s party and it hurt that Jess hadn’t revealed before now that not only had she been invited but she had actually gone. Heather didn’t want to be possessive. She knew Jess liked her best, but still. Sometimes it was hard not to feel left out.
Heather had never thought she needed anyone other than Flora. Then, when she’d made friends with Jess, she’d discovered what fun it was to have a best friend, someone in the same class who had your back. She was worried about losing them both: Flora to Dylan and Jess to Gina.
‘I know you care about Flora,’ Jess said softly, ‘but she’s sensible. She’ll be okay. She won’t let Dylan drag her into anything dangerous. And by the end of the summer he’ll be gone.’ She shrugged. ‘But if it makes you feel better we could go to the fair anyway. Keep an eye out for her?’
Heather wanted to hug Jess in that moment. She’d known she would understand, despite not having siblings of her own. Jess was still on her wavelength. Nothing had changed.
She felt more light-hearted as she linked arms with her best friend and headed towards the fair.
It took hours to find Flora. It was as though she had vanished off the face of the earth. Heather and Jess looked everywhere, and asked around after Dylan, but nobody seemed to have an idea where they had gone. ‘His shift starts at six and it’s now five thirty, so he’s bound to be here soon,’ one of the guys on the Waltzers informed them. He was older than Dylan and had kind eyes. ‘I’m sure your sister will be all right with him, don’t worry.’
Heather tried to distract herself by using the last of her pocket money to go on the dodgems with Jess, and although she screamed when someone slammed into the back of them, and giggled when Jess took over the driving and couldn’t reverse out of the corner, in the back of her mind was the uneasy feeling that wouldn’t leave her. Jess was right: Flora was sixteen – old enough to take care of herself. It was just that Heather didn’t trust Dylan. She knew he didn’t have her sister’s best interests at heart. She was counting down the days until the fair left and Dylan with it.
And then, just before six, she saw him strutting towards where they stood by the Waltzers. It took her brain a moment or two to realize that Flora wasn’t with him.
‘Where’s my sister?’ she demanded, as soon as Dylan reached them.
‘Hey, it’s little Heather Powell.’ He draped an arm around her shoulders. ‘What’s the matter now?’
‘Where’s Flora?’
He threw his head back and laughed. ‘Take a chill pill. Your sister’s gone home. I’ve got to work tonight.’ He moved away from her to leap onto the platform. He seemed full of energy.
‘See?’ Jess said, tugging on her arm. ‘Flora’s fine. Shall we go back now?’
There was nothing Heather wanted to do more. She was tired of the noise and the smells and the crowds. She’d much rather go back to the barn with Jess, sit and chat and sketch and listen to music. Her plan to watch over Flora and stop her leaving the caravan park had failed miserably. And Jess was useless, even though she’d promised to help her keep Flora away from Dylan. But she’d made her feelings perfectly clear earlier: Jess obviously felt that she was being too protective of Flora.
She would have to come up with another plan.
She let Jess lead her away. Yet the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave her.
28
Margot
Margot had spent all weekend at her daughter’s bedside – visiting hours allowing. She wanted to cherish every waking moment with Heather. She’d nearly lost her and, even though she knows the road ahead won’t be easy, at least she’s alive and recovering a little more each day. And Margot will do her best to make sure she doesn’t go to prison.
The police are still standing guard. Heather’s been moved out of the ICU to a private room, mainly because of the police presence but also because the hospital doesn’t want the other patients to be alarmed. The doctors – thank the Lord – aren’t allowing Heather to be interviewed yet, saying she’s still in no fit state emotionally to deal with the fact that all the evidence points to her shooting dead two people. Heather has said she can’t remember a thing about that fateful day. Margot had tried to probe her gently, asking her if she remembered anything, but Heather had got distressed and Adam had glared at her disapprovingly.
‘Give it time,’ Dr Khan said, when she passed her pacing the corridor. ‘It’s common for patients to be unable to recollect any memories from the time of their brain trauma. She might never get them back.’
Could Margot live with that? The not-knowing? She thinks so, if it means having Heather back where she belongs.
Margot’s rubber soles squeak as she strides down the corridor to Heather’s room. Because it’s Monday morning, Adam has agreed to stay at the caravan park to check out the young couple, whom she still thinks could be journalists. Margot’s excited at the prospect of spending time with Heather, alone, and has with her an array of chocolate and magazines. At the weekend Adam brought Ethan in to see her and Margot had to fight back tears as he snuggled up to his mother’s chest, his head resting against her collarbone, sucking his thumb, happy and contented to be with her again. Heather had kissed his soft dark curls hungrily, tears running down her cheeks as she practically inhaled him, terrified of being parted from him again. Margot understands how that feels. And in that moment she knew Heather hadn’t tried to take her own life. There is no way she’d ever leave her little boy. He is her world. Maybe it had been an accident. Maybe the gun had gone off in her hand and the bullet hit her chest. Or – she recalls the unidentified set of fingerprints on the gun – somebody else was involved.