I approach school for the second time today, having driven far too quickly away from Fellmere and down the long road towards Ambleside. School finishes at three-thirty, and I remembered my rescheduled appointment with Leticia only fifteen minutes before she was due outside my office door.
I had spent most of my brief time at home waiting to talk to Callum, but he had been busy making calls to the office and his clients. I’d sat idly at the kitchen table, watching my tea grow cold, listening to his voice, trying to calm down, and then Leticia’s disappointed face that morning popped into my head. Damn-damn-damn, I’d muttered, thinking of her fragile, pale features. She was not someone I wanted to let down.
Before I left I had crept upstairs and risked looking in on Georgia, twisting the door handle as quietly as I could. She was turned to the wall, her breathing even – I waited long enough to watch her chest rise and fall a few times, a maternal habit left over from the kids’ babyhood. I scribbled a note on one of her Post-Its and propped it on her bedside table, hoping she would stay asleep until I was back.
I had rushed into the front room to let Callum know I had to go out. He had his phone to his ear, but snapped it shut as soon as he saw me.
‘Who was that?’
‘It hadn’t started ringing yet.’ He frowned. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I have to go back to school. Georgia’s asleep, and I have a client who’s really struggling – I’ve cancelled on her once, and I don’t want to do it again. If Georgia wakes up, can you tell her I’ll be back as quickly as I can. Don’t let her go anywhere, will you.’
Callum puts his phone in his pocket. ‘Look, Anya, we really need to talk about Georgia. I’m not sure we can—’
‘Cal, I haven’t got time for this right now,’ I yell over my shoulder as I head for the door. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can – okay?’
There had been no answer. As I drive I can’t help but wish I hadn’t cut Callum off. I want to know what he had planned to say. I force it to the back of my mind as I reach the school drive and begin to manoeuvre the car around the parent pick-up gridlock, pretending I’m oblivious to the dirty looks as I pull up illegally on a spare patch of grass.
The police car parked a few spaces ahead is getting curious glances, and as I hurry towards my office I’m aware that I’m the one who summoned it. Rounding the final corner, I see Leticia leaning against the wall, eyes on her phone. As I draw closer I hear murmurs coming from inside my room.
‘I thought you weren’t going to show up,’ Leticia says accusingly when she sees me.
‘I’m sorry.’ My voice is brisk. ‘There’s been a lot going on. Come on, let’s see if we can find somewhere else that’s private.’
But before we can leave, my office door opens. Danny appears, raising his eyebrows at me before he walks away. The policewomen behind him are about to follow when I step into their path.
‘I’m Mrs Turner. Georgia’s mother. I called you earlier.’
I recognise PC Edwards from last night. She seems surprised to be accosted, but says, ‘Of course, I remember.’
‘So,’ I fold my arms and then unfold them, not wanting to come across as too pushy. ‘Is there anything else I should know?’
‘Not as yet, Mrs Turner, but we’ll keep you posted,’ the other policewoman cuts in.
‘Is Georgia in any danger?’ I demand, trying not to come across as a traumatised, neurotic mother, aware of Leticia watching.
‘Mrs Turner, we are taking Danny’s recollection very seriously, but so far it’s an isolated incident and we’re doing everything we can to locate the driver. Try not to worry, but if anything out of the ordinary happens, then of course you should call us straightaway.’
I gather this is meant to pacify me, as they both stride quickly away. It does anything but. I am in the midst of imagining what might give us grounds to call them for help, when Leticia pipes up behind me. ‘Why is Georgia in danger?’
I had completely forgotten she was there. How unprofessional of me. Flustered, I take a few slow breaths to steady myself, then turn to her. ‘We don’t know that she is – I’m just worried about her after last night.’ I indicate the empty office. ‘Want to come in?’
Once we’re sitting down I gather my wits. ‘So, how’s your day been?’
She shrugs. ‘Okay,’ she says as she fiddles with her long sleeves, repeatedly pulling them further down over her wrists. Then she focuses on me. ‘Is Georgia running tomorrow?’
Once again, my counselling session has ended up with my daughter as the topic of discussion. ‘I’m not sure,’ I say reluctantly. ‘I think she’d like to.’
Leticia’s eyes widen. ‘She’s amazing.’
I want to contradict her, but I’m not sure why. Of course my daughter is amazing; even though her determination to participate in tomorrow’s race is a little less than ideal.