Joe, sitting next to me on the sofa, telling me I had a pretty face. Me, telling him I went to a girls’ school. Complaining that I’d only kissed three boys. Him: Want to make it four?
‘Aargh,’ I collapsed next to her, tucking my head against her shoulder. ‘Is this what the morning after feels like?’
She laughed again. ‘Yes. Enjoy it. Remind yourself it means you must have had a good night.’ She glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Do you mind if we head off soon? I know it’s early, but I just want to get out of here. We could head into town? Get some food?’
‘OK,’ I said.
‘You can use the bathroom upstairs if you want. I’ll meet you back down here in half an hour.’
After I’d washed my face and dosed up on paracetamol, I felt vaguely human again. I brushed my hair with a hairbrush I found in Suzanne’s room and headed downstairs to meet her. In the kitchen, she was folding up a piece of paper and setting it in place with the key she’d taken from the back garden. She smiled at me. ‘Just going to grab my hat.’ When she was gone, I gave into curiosity and unfolded the paper to read what she’d written.
Mum and Dad –
It’s me! Just to let you know I came by with a friend, so if you see anything out of place, that’s why. Hope you had a good anniversary weekend.
Lots of love, Suzie xx
I’d expected something sullen, maybe even overtly sarcastic, but the ordinariness of the note hit me right in the chest. I closed the paper back up and stepped into the hall, biting on my tongue to contain the sudden impulse to cry.
Suzanne’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and she appeared, pulling her hat over her head and tucking stray hairs under the rim. ‘Ready to go?’ she asked me.
I was just about to nod when the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock jolted us both. I saw a look of total, complete panic pass over Suzanne’s face. As if by instinct, she moved closer to me, her hand clenching over my wrist.
She relaxed as soon as the door opened to reveal a figure I recognized from the photographs on the mirror in her Brighton bedroom. When he saw us, his face dropped in shock. He stopped in the doorway, one hand still on the handle, mouth open. Then, ‘Fucking hell, Zannie.’ Suzanne’s brother walked forward, leaving the door open, and lifted her right off the floor into a hug.
‘Hi,’ she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Looking for you!’ Brian set her back down on the carpet and let out a breath. ‘God, I was worried sick.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘You don’t appear at Cardiff station and no one knows where you are? Yeah, I was worried.’ The relief had faded from his face and he looked faintly annoyed for a moment before his eyes fell on me. ‘Oh! Are you Caddy?’
I nodded mutely.
‘I recognize you from Facebook pictures.’ He actually held out his hand, and I shook it. ‘Right.’ He reached out and hooked his arm around Suzanne’s shoulder, pulling her in for a second hug. ‘Seeing as I’m here, I guess I’d better take you both home.’
As soon as we’d got in the car, Brian pulled out his phone and dialled a number before he even started the engine. ‘Hey, Sarah.’ His voice was relaxed and easy; it was the voice of someone used to smoothing situations over. ‘I’m in Reading . . . Yeah . . . No, that’s why I’m calling. She’s here.’ He glanced to his left at Suzanne, who glowered. ‘She’s fine . . . No, totally fine.’ His eyes moved to the rear-view mirror, catching my gaze.
I answered the unspoken question with a vigorous, horrified shake of my head. There was still at least a chance that my parents didn’t know what had happened or that I’d ever been out of the city. He grinned, an understanding ally. ‘So we’re heading back now,’ he said into the phone. ‘We’ll be in Brighton in a couple of hours probably.’
When he hung up, he tossed the phone on to the dashboard and started the car. ‘So –’ he said, still upbeat. He executed a perfect three-point turn, throwing his hand into a wave at the house behind us, as if there was anyone there to see it – ‘want to explain yourself?’
‘What’s to explain?’ Suzanne asked.
‘Oh, I don’t know, Zanne,’ Brian said, deadpan. ‘Maybe start with why the three of us are in my car driving from Reading to Brighton on a Sunday morning?’
Suzanne muttered something I didn’t catch, but whatever it was made Brian laugh. She looked at him, a grin appearing on her face. He reached out a hand and ruffled her hair. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said.
After a respectful fifteen minutes, Brian tried again. I sat in the back, fiddling with my hoodie cuffs, hoping they’d forget I was there.
‘There I was, thinking you wanted to see me,’ he said, easing into the roundabout and then taking the second exit on to the motorway.
‘It’s not about that,’ Suzanne replied. ‘It would have just been nice to be included in the decision.’
‘OK. One: when Sarah and I talked about it we thought you’d be thrilled, so asking your opinion didn’t even come up. And two: you can’t just up and leave just because you don’t like a decision someone’s made.’