‘Sssh,’ I tell her as she struggles to sit up. ‘Stay down. You passed out. There’s an ambulance on its way.’
Miss Chadwick returns with Mrs Jessop as Leticia begins to sob. I sit on the floor so she can rest her head on my lap. I stroke her forehead, which seems to soothe her, and we stay like that until we hear the sirens. A short time later the medics bustle in. They ask lots of questions, and when I finally look around I see that Mr Fennell and Miss Chadwick have disappeared, and only Mrs Jessop is watching on.
When Leticia is sitting up, I move across to join Chris Jessop. One of the paramedics comes over to us. ‘I think we’ll take her in to the Royal. Her pulse rate is still dangerously low. We’ll get the stretcher, then we need to move quickly. Who’s coming with her?’
Mrs Jessop turns to me. ‘I’m so sorry to ask, but can you go, Anya? I have visitors waiting from the education department. I’ll ring Leticia’s parents.’
It takes every bit of strength I have not to burst into tears. The Royal Lancaster hospital is at least forty minutes’ drive away.
I think of my traumatised, pale-faced daughter, curled up in bed. Needing every bit of love and attention I can give her today. How can I go?
I look at Leticia, an oxygen mask covering most of her gaunt features, lying curled on her side with her eyes closed, my jacket under her head. Desperately needing my help right this moment. How can I not go?
The paramedic and the headmistress are both watching me, waiting for my answer.
Callum is with Georgia, I remind myself. I will be as fast as I can. Leticia is the one who in danger; my daughter is at home, resting. My daughter is safe.
Yet it still takes all my energy to nod.
18
ZAC
At the beginning of their walk, Arthur entertains Zac and Maddie, leaping in and out of streams, retrieving sticks, jumping and barking with delight whenever they join in his games. Fallen leaves crunch underfoot as, now and then, their bodies brush one another, until Zac feels bruised from each contact. He studies his old, scuffed trainers, which are letting in the damp, and wishes he’d bothered to buy some new ones.
For a while it doesn’t matter that Maddie isn’t saying much. But as Arthur grows tired and begins to trot quietly by their side, the silence grows obvious and more uncomfortable, on Zac’s side at least. They are still heading away from home, but Arthur’s antics have meant they haven’t got very far. Zac is loath to be the one to suggest turning around, because that would mean cutting short their time alone together, and who knows when this opportunity might come round again.
How can he break into her reverie? He could ask her more about Sophia, but he doesn’t want to upset her. He could tell her that her friends are ridiculous, but he suspects she won’t agree. He could whisper that she looks beautiful today – and every day – but that’s totally inappropriate. He could suggest they go hunting for frogs, but that’s about six years out of date.
In his pocket, he clutches his mobile. This would definitely get her attention. The phone seems alive in his hand, burning his skin, a fuse drawing closer to explosion.
‘We should have brought some food or something,’ he mutters.
She doesn’t respond straightaway and he bites his lip. Of all the thoughts he has had, why is it this mundane mumble that leaks from his mouth?
‘I’ve completely lost my appetite,’ Maddie declares eventually. ‘I’ve hardly eaten anything since last night.’
Zac can’t think of a response. The scene resets itself as though he had never spoken. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything interesting, so he ambles alongside her, restless and despondent. He hears Jacinta’s taunting voice, ‘She’s your cousin. It’s a little bit sick.’
But they’re not blood relations. Surely Maddie wouldn’t think like that. He steals a few sideways glances at her while she finds more bounty for Arthur. He is continually amazed at her height – a few inches taller than him – her lean face, the curves of her cheekbones, the shimmer in her hair. He can picture her leaping in the air in one of his mother’s clothing catalogues, her arms a V of victory, her hair fanning out in joy. How has she morphed into an almost-adult, when he doesn’t feel much different to the kid he’s always been?
He tries to think of the last time they were alone like this. He can’t pinpoint it. It must have been a long time ago. Has she missed him anywhere near as much as he has missed her?
When they reach one of the viewpoints she sits on the bench and he rests beside her, feeling like an unstrung puppet, fixated on the correct arrangement of his limbs. She stares out across the valley, and Zac turns slightly, keen to catch her eye, hoping there will be something there to help him when she does.
‘Maddie?’ he says eventually.