THE TROUBLE WITH PAPER PLANES(61)

And with that, he turned and staggered down the hallway. I heard the crunch of broken glass as he made his way to the back door, then it slammed shut behind him and the house was engulfed in silence.

For several long moments, we all stood there, frozen, processing what had just happened. And then the shock wore off.

I turned to Bridget just as she took a shuddering breath and fell to her knees, sobbing. Maia fell with her, trying desperately to hold her up.

You bastard. You selfish, inconsiderate, stubborn bastard!

But it was too late. He was gone. He was gone and she was there, falling apart right in front of me. I knelt down beside them as Maia stared at me helplessly. I know, I wanted to say. I know, but I don’t know what to do either.

It had gone beyond Alex just lobbing insults, picking away at me. It was far more than that now. Gone was the simmering rage of just moments ago, replaced by an all-encompassing despair that felt like it was ripping me to pieces.

I couldn’t stand to see her like this, sobbing on the floor, desolate and heartbroken. It was too much like the early days, after Em disappeared. The misery was palpable, like a living, breathing creature that had been waiting in the wings all this time, ready to swoop in if we let it.

“Come on,” I said, putting my arm around Bridget. “Let’s go into the living room and sit down.”

She didn’t move and the wretched sobbing continued.

I looked past her, at Maia, who was sitting on the other side of her. “Help me?”

We helped her to her feet, and the three of us slowly made our way through to the living room.





ALEX MAY NOT HAVE laid a hand on me this time, but driving away from Bridget’s house an hour later, it felt like he had. My entire body ached and my head was pounding. Trying to be strong for Bridget, and Maia, had left me feeling like I’d been dumped by a succession of waves – waves called anger, guilt, grief and frustration.


I still wasn’t sure we should’ve left, despite Bridget’s assurances that she was alright. Alex was more than likely home by now, albeit sleeping on his front porch, since his house key was no doubt with his car key, and therefore still at Bridget’s. And he’d wake up tomorrow, completely oblivious of the pain he’d caused tonight.

We had to do something about him. What had started out as the occasional slur when he’d had a few too many had become a personal crusade – against me, against the world, and it was looking like Bridget was in the firing line now, too. Who was next, Henry? Maia? Where the hell would it end?

I could handle it – and I had been. Not brilliantly, I’d be the first to admit, but I had been handling it. Bridget was another story. She didn’t deserve any of this.

“Are you okay?”

I shot a quick glance over at Maia. “Yeah. Fine. Thanks.”

“Do you think you should slow down a bit?”

“What?”

“You’re going way over the speed limit and it’s freaking me out.”

I glanced at the speedometer and eased my foot off the accelerator immediately. “Shit – sorry.”

“It’s okay, I can’t blame you. That was pretty intense.”

Intense. Understatement of the century.

“What would you have done, if he hadn’t left?”

Probably a lot more than I thought I was capable of. “I don’t know. Thrown him out, probably. Called the cops, maybe – anything to get him away from her.”

Maia didn’t reply, but the words came tumbling out of me anyway.

“It’s one thing shitting all over me, but what he did tonight crossed a line. All she’s ever done is try to help him, and that’s how he reacts? I don’t care if he meant to hurt her or not, he pushed her and she fell. Now she’s gonna have to go to work tomorrow looking like that. It’s just… wrong.”

“Yeah, it is,” she mumbled, reaching over to lay a hand on my thigh.

Her palm burnt through my jeans, searing my skin. That one simple gesture suddenly had me feeling like all the emotions I’d been locking up for the past five years were about to come ripping out of me in a frustrated roar.

I needed some air.

I glanced briefly in the rear-vision mirror to make sure the road was clear, and made the next turn, heading down to the bottom of the hill and pulling off the road. I parked on the grass verge, under one of the huge trees that lined the street, separating the harbour from the road. In the seconds before I turned off the headlights, columns of light bathed the trees and the water beyond.