‘Good.’ Justin went quiet, and then turned to glance towards the house, presumably checking for signs of Sophie.
For a long second, silence hung heavy between them, like a yawning chasm, and then he turned back to her. The icy chill running the length of her spine told Alicia he was about to broach the subject she’d prayed he wouldn’t. She wasn’t ready. He wasn’t. He would never be. Her heart sank hopelessly. ‘Alicia,’ he started hesitantly, ‘about the other night, I was—’
The passenger door being yanked open cut him short, allowing Alicia to breathe out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding in.
‘God, what is it with this rain?’ Sophie moaned, throwing herself into the back seat. ‘It’s totally ruining my hair.’
‘Don’t worry, Sophie, you’re still irresistibly gorgeous, even with totally ruined hair.’ Justin eyed her amusedly through the rear-view mirror as he pulled out of the drive. ‘But not as irresistible as your mother, obviously.’
Alicia felt her heart drop as if down a lift shaft. ‘I assume there was some kind of innuendo in there?’ she asked him quietly.
‘What?’ Justin looked across to her, surprised. ‘No,’ he said quickly. ‘There wasn’t meant to be. Look, Alicia’ – he glanced again in his mirror, careful of Sophie in the back – ‘about the other night: I was out of order. Overreacting. A touch of the green-eyed monster, obviously. Can you blame me? You’re a beautiful woman.’
Astonished by that, Alicia simply stared at him.
‘So, have you two kissed and made up then?’ Sophie asked, clearly aware of the awkwardness there’d been between them. ‘Only Luke reckons all this not talking to each other crap is really juvenile, don’t you, Luke?’
‘I don’t know.’ Justin turned questioningly to Alicia as he slowed at the traffic lights. ‘Have we?’
Alicia studied him, bewildered. How could he imagine she was beautiful? How could he ever have? Her heart felt too big in her chest, stuffed full of regret, of overwhelming love for this man, who actually had made her feel beautiful – even immediately post pregnancy, he’d told her she was gorgeous. Small lies, little white lies to make her feel better, whereas hers… Feeling as if it might be for the last time, she leaned towards him and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. She wished there was a way to tell him, before his love turned to hatred, how deeply she loved him.
Justin reached to squeeze her hand, and then, a warm glint in his eyes, leaned towards her to steal a kiss of his own.
‘Urgh, cover your eyes, Luke,’ Sophie advised her baby brother. ‘The parents are doing lovey-dovey stuff in public. So embarrassing.’
Alicia felt a laugh bubble up inside her. It felt good. For the briefest moment, everything felt normal. If only she could hold on to it. Never let it go.
‘Sorry,’ Justin mouthed, giving her an apologetic smile.
Gulping back her heartache, Alicia smiled back and cupped her hand to his face, needing to feel the solidity of him. Soon it would be gone. Soon her man – her strong, dependable man – would recoil at her touch.
‘Er, excuse us, children present.’ Sophie sighed disapprovingly, and then said, ‘Dad, lights. You’re stopping traffic.’
‘Hell,’ Justin mumbled, checking the lights and then pulling hurriedly out.
Alicia was still looking at him when her blood froze in her veins. ‘Justin!’ she screamed, clutching his arm hard.
Instinctively slamming his foot on the brake, Justin swung his gaze to the side window. ‘Dear God…’ The words died on his lips as the full impact of the collision hit the family.
Three
JUSTIN
Justin saw nothing but deep, dark red. Heard nothing. Felt nothing but numbness throughout his entire body.
Then all his senses assailed him at once: searing pain in his ribcage, a cacophony of noise, too loud in his head. Horns blaring. People shouting. Petrol spilling. Sirens plaintively wailing.
Alicia. Screaming.
Sophie, her voice high-pitched, hysterical. ‘Dad! Oh God. Oh God. Dad!’
Luke… No sound at all.
Justin’s heart kicked hard. White-hot pain shooting through his shoulder, down his spine to his pelvis, he turned towards Alicia, registered the palpable shock on her face, the blood on her forehead, matted in her hair, tracing the contours of her face.
‘Justin! The children!’ she yelled. ‘Please, God, don’t do this. Not my children. Please! Not my children!’
Justin was already fumbling with his seatbelt, grappling with it, tearing at it. Come on! ‘Fucking… fucking thing!’
‘Dad!’ Sophie’s voice was the terrified sob of a child as he twisted to face her. ‘Luke!’
Jesus Christ, no. Please, no… Twisting back to his door, Justin reached for the handle, cursing again loudly as he realised the locking mechanism was engaged. Reaching to release it, he tried again, only to find the door was stuck. Justin shoved his shoulder against it, his whole body against it, pushed with all his might, finally spilling from his car to land heavily on the pavement.
Blinking bloody sweat from his eyelashes, his breaths coming in short, sharp rasps, he planted his hands on the concrete, heaved himself up to all fours, reached for the buckled metal of the door to pull himself to his feet.
His legs almost failing him, aware of the bedlam of traffic around him, the shocked faces of onlookers frozen in time, Justin groped for the rear passenger door.
He was vaguely aware of other hands helping him to wrench it open. Justin couldn’t see whose. His focus was on Sophie. She was choking back sobs now, close to hyperventilating. Luke. He couldn’t get past her. Couldn’t make her hear him.
‘Sophie!’ He seized her shoulders as she attempted to climb out, locked his eyes hard on hers as she screamed over and over, petrified, soul-crushing screams of pure fear. ‘Keep still! You’re okay! Please…’ He moderated his tone ‘Don’t move, Sophie. You might have a neck injury.’
Luke. Someone was reaching into the other side. ‘Don’t!’ Justin screamed it. He needed to get to him before they moved him.
Swiping at the droplets of crimson clouding his vision, Justin galvanised himself into action and made his way around the back of the car. It took a second, a slow thud like a death knell, before he registered the impossible angle of the carrier.
Four
ALICIA
Petrified, Alicia watched as a flurry of medical staff attended him, her tiny baby, lost on a hospital trolley made for an adult, monitors beeping and pinging around him. He looked so small, so fragile against the vast expanse of white sheet. His little face wasn’t damaged. He still looked perfect. Her perfect little boy, his softly curled eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he slept. His perfect cupid lips. His little hands curled into fists. His tiny chest rising and falling. Breathing. He’s breathing. Squeezing her eyes closed, Alicia felt the room shift, breathed in and out with him. Please keep breathing, baby. Please keep breathing.
She could hear someone talking about the positioning of his carrier in the car. Back passenger seat, forward-facing. The words reached her as if muffled by endless fathoms of swirling, icy water. Responsive to pain.
Oh please, God, no.
Folding her arms tightly across her midriff, Alicia felt the tear rip steadily through her heart, felt the tug in her womb where she’d carried him, kept him safe and warm until he was grown enough to come into the world. He was hurting! Her baby boy was hurting, and he wasn’t grown. He was tiny. He was hurting, and she couldn’t make it go away, couldn’t keep him safe. She needed to. She was his mother!
‘Please help him,’ she begged, her voice catching on the sob in her throat. She didn’t want Lucas to hear her crying. It would scare him.
Swiping a hand across her face, she gulped back another wretched sob. ‘Please do something,’ she pleaded. ‘Don’t let him be in pain. Please…’