I take the next bend far more carefully but the steering wheel is stiff. I wouldn’t admit it to Wayne, but it almost feels as if it is fighting against me whenever I try to turn it at lower speeds.
There are a couple more bends and then, finally, a long straight. This is the bit I’ve been looking forward to. As Wayne said, I have to ram the gearstick into fourth, but, when I ease onto the accelerator, the entire machine pulsates with power. The vibrations start under my feet, rippling up through the seat until it feels as the car and I are one and the same. It’s beautiful.
Wayne is saying something but the engine is so loud that I can’t hear him. It’ll be something about my speed, about slowing down. Not yet, though. I’ve been waiting for this. This is what living is all about. I don’t think he gets that sometimes. He’s never waded out across the river when it’s flowing at its fastest. He hasn’t run the paddles of the waterwheel, trying to get to the top. Ellie has. Jason has. I have. Not Wayne. He sees the danger; we see opportunity and fun.
Faster still. The hedges blur, the tarmac tears.
More, please. Give me more.
Chapter Forty-Eight
‘Say it.’
Ellie demands I speak for a second time. Her voice is firm and calm – but it’s that unruffled tone that terrifies me. This is the teenage Ellie, the one who’d lead the way clambering up the paddles outside, trying to get to the top of the waterwheel. She’s mellowed over the years because that’s what time does to people. What was once important gradually becomes just another thing.
Except Ellie lost a brother, a twin brother. How can that ever become ‘just another thing’?
‘I was driving.’
My words are almost lost to the sound of the river outside. Nothing happens for a moment.
It was so long ago that there are times where I’ve convinced myself it’s not true. The reality is that Wayne was driving. Everyone knows that. It happened. It’s only when I let my mind wander that the truth appears.
‘Louder.’
I shout this time, finally saying what I should have done so many years ago. ‘I was driving.’
As if to confirm it, the scar around my temple throbs and there’s a stabbing pain in my ribs. I was never the same after the crash and I suppose the physical changes pale compared to everything else.
‘Louder.’
‘I WAS DRIVING!’
The only other sounds are the river and the gentle wheeze of Tyler trying to breathe at my side. Ellie takes a step forward, her silhouette swelling in the spotlight.
‘That car was his pride and joy,’ she says.
‘Yes.’
‘He was a sensible driver.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’d been in the car with him, we all had. He was careful. He didn’t speed. He didn’t like taking risks.’
‘I know.’
‘So why would he have been showing off? You were driving.’
‘Yes.’
The way she spells it out now is so matter-of-fact, so obvious, that I can’t believe nobody ever questioned things.
‘You switched places,’ she adds. ‘You belted yourself into the passenger seat and put him behind the wheel. You dragged his dead body into the driver’s seat after you killed him.’
I’m silent at that. I haven’t thought about those moments in a long time.
Actually, that’s not true. It’s strange in that I seem to always think about it and yet it’s a memory that sits behind other thoughts. It’s like a fingernail; always there and yet hardly noticeable.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ I say.
‘Tell me what you did.’
‘Ell—’
‘Tell me!’
‘Where’s Olivia?’
‘Tell me, or I swear to God...’
She doesn’t finish the sentence but she doesn’t need to. What choice do I have? I can see what she has done to Tyler.
‘Why him?’ she asks.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Why did he die and you survive?’
Ellie is choked, the words sticking in her throat.
‘I don’t know,’ I reply. ‘Luck. That’s all I can say. I remember opening my eyes. My chest and eye hurt but I felt okay. Then I looked across and saw him in the passenger seat and he… wasn’t. I don’t have a better explanation. When I said at the graveyard that I sometimes wish it was me who died, I meant it.’
‘What happened then?’
Tyler wobbles, his head lolling to the side. I try to prop him up but Ellie hisses for me to leave him. All I can do is lean him against the wall.
‘I didn’t plan it,’ I say. ‘It was impulse… instinct to move him. After I’d done it, I was going to put him back but then I heard the other car pulling in.’
‘Your Angel David?’
I shiver at the memory. ‘Right. There was no turning back. I wanted to tell people but it was too late. It was Wayne’s car and he was in the driving seat. Everyone assumed he was driving.’
‘You made them assume.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’
The shadow of the knife rises and, though she’s across the floor, there’s a moment in which I think Ellie is going to leap forward. Even over the noise of the river, I hear her take a breath. Her silhouette hulks larger and then softens.
‘It wasn’t enough for you, was it?’ she says.
‘What wasn’t?’
‘You couldn’t stop at ruining one of my brothers, you had to have the other.’
There’s a lump in my throat. Self-serving, I know. How can I feel sorry for myself after what I did? She’s right to hate me.
‘I didn’t plan that,’ I say.
‘You knew Jason adored you.’
‘Yes.’
‘And you led him on.’
‘I…’
I stumble, because I don’t have the words – and she wouldn’t want to hear them anyway. I didn’t lead Jason on as such but I didn’t discourage him. Of course I knew he had a thing for me. Everyone did. The kids at school knew. Wayne knew. Ellie knew. He was a couple of years below us but he’d follow his brother and sister around to spend time with me. If I lay on the riverbank, he’d lay at my side. If I tried to wade into the river, he’d follow. When we were fourteen or fifteen and he was eighteen months younger, it was funny to see what he’d do for me. By the time I was nineteen and he’d recently turned eighteen, things were different. It definitely wasn’t funny any longer.
‘I shouldn’t have let it happen,’ I say.
‘But you did – and then you broke his heart.’
‘I was young, Ell. We were young. I didn’t know what would happen after I broke up with him. I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, you will be.’
She spits her reply with righteous fury.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You took my brother – my brothers – and I’m going to take your daughter.’
I scramble to my feet. The sawdust and sand scuffs underneath. My knees wobble because I’ve been sitting on them for too long.
‘Stay where you are,’ Ellie says.
‘Where’s Liv?’
‘Sleeping. She had a rather strong sedative with her can of Coke during her accounting lesson. You know I can’t have children. I was doing all that for your daughter after what you’d done to me?’
She’s right. How can I ever justify it?
‘I never meant for everything to happen,’ I say.
‘But you never spoke up about it, did you? You let everyone believe Wayne was driving when it was you. It took me crashing my own car to realise.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Stop saying that!’ She speaks through clenched teeth. ‘It’s always about you, isn’t it? You’re obsessed with yourself; always whining about your husband. You know the problem isn’t Dan, don’t you? It’s you.’
Her words hurt because they scratch at my darkest fears. She’s only saying what I’ve laid awake thinking about. Life is so easy when everything’s an injustice. If it’s someone else’s fault, then every day is a challenge to prove a point. Without that, a person can only wallow in failure.