I waited a moment, but she didn’t elaborate. She sat up and slid off the bed, easing herself into the chair that was there, wincing. ‘I banged my leg climbing over the garden wall.’
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. ‘Only you could say something like that like it’s completely normal. And did I mention that my leg is broken?’
Suzanne’s face crumpled and I felt a surge of guilt. I’d meant to tease, but the veneer of I’m-fine-I’m-so-very-fine that she wore was just that, a veneer. In the instant after I spoke I saw her real emotional state flash across her face. She looked broken. Broken in a way that frightened me.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said quickly. ‘That was meant to be a joke.’
‘I know.’ She looked away from me, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. ‘Sorry. I’m kind of . . . off balance right now.’
I waited until she’d gathered herself before speaking again. ‘So what happened today, on your end?’
‘Nothing good. You should have seen Sarah’s face when she opened the door to me and the police – the way she looked at me. It was horrible. And the police kept talking and talking, it was unbearable, they were just delaying the inevitable, you know? I didn’t go to school, Rosie probably told you that. Sarah didn’t go to work. The thing is, she didn’t yell. She cried though. And that was worse.’ She wiped her eyes again. ‘What about you? Is everything OK with you, except the leg?’
‘And the face?’
‘Well, yeah, that too.’
‘The leg is pretty bad apparently. And they were worried about my concussion for a while. But they all seem to have calmed down now. I’ll probably be out in a few days.’
‘That’s good.’ Finally she smiled a proper smile. ‘I’m so relieved. All day I kept imagining the worst. Sarah said something about you maybe being paralysed, and oh God, can you imagine?’
Watching her babble away, I felt the slow creep of anxiety starting in my stomach. Something was wrong. There was something she wasn’t telling me. There had to be a reason why, after everything, she’d sneaked into my hospital room at midnight to talk to me.
‘Why are you here, Suze?’ I asked.
She picked at a thread on her hoodie sleeve, avoiding my eyes. In the silence, my anxiety grew.
‘I came to say goodbye,’ she said eventually.
The anxiety, already at my chest, seized. ‘What do you mean?’
‘They’re sending me away. Well, Sarah is – Sarah and social services. I’m being put into care.’ She was still not looking at me.
‘No.’
‘There wasn’t even a question. Sarah said it straight after the police left. She didn’t say it in a mean way, she just said it. Like there was no other option. She said this was the final straw. Actually she said a whole bunch of stuff that was horrible, but true.’
‘But she’ll calm down.’
‘Not this time, no. She’s already spoken to Becca.’ Seeing my face, she added, ‘My social worker, remember? So I guess she’ll get it sorted out. Sarah tried to . . .’ Still not looking at me, Suzanne seemed to choke on the words, then gather herself. ‘She tried to get them to take me away straight away. But they can’t do it that way, apparently.’
‘What does it mean?’ I asked. ‘Where will you go?’
She closed her eyes briefly. ‘God, I don’t know. I don’t know how the fuck this works. Probably some kind of group home?’ Her voice wavered. ‘You know, with all the other unloved fuck-ups.’
‘Oh, Suze . . .’ I ached with worry and sympathy. ‘Look, maybe if you explain—’
‘Explain what?’ She looked at me now. ‘What is there to explain? She tried. She tried really, really hard. But I’m just . . . What was it she said? I’m beyond help. I just cause pain for other people, and she’s had enough of having to be responsible for my destructive behaviour. That’s a direct quote, by the way.’
‘But . . . care? Will that help?’
‘Of course not. But it won’t be her problem. I won’t be her problem.’ She studied her sleeves, bunched into her fists. ‘Part of me wonders if I’d have been better off if she’d just never got involved.’
‘You mean staying with your parents?’
‘Yeah.’
‘But they were hurting you. You could have died.’
‘Maybe that would have been better.’
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ Suzanne let out a long sigh then, straightening her shoulders and tilting her head back. She closed her eyes for what felt like too long, then opened them again, smiling determinedly at me. ‘Anyway. I brought you something.’ She reached into her pocket and pulled out a necklace, which she held out to me.
When I took it, I realized what it was.
‘Oh no, I can’t have this.’ I tried to push it back into her hands, but she held them clenched against her chest. ‘It’s yours.’
‘I want you to have it,’ she said simply. ‘To say thank you.’
‘Thank you for what?’ I looked at the necklace closely, the delicate chain, the curve of the dove. It was even prettier up close.
‘You know for what.’ Her lips curved into a soft, sad smile. ‘I think you’re the best friend I ever had.’