‘You’re asking me what happened? I thought you were about to tell me something dreadful about Beth!’
He exchanged a look with my parents. Mum tried to get me to sit down this time. I did as I was told, wiping my face.
‘So is everything okay?’
‘Well, that’s what we’d like to know, duck,’ replied Dad, leaning forward, businesslike.
I frowned. Mum reached for my hand and took up the conversation.
‘The thing is, we’re a bit worried about you. You’ve been through so much, and I wondered if you fancied a little holiday? Me and your dad would pay. Nothing fancy, just a cottage in Wales or Scotland or something. And of course, we’d keep an eye on Beth for you, see her every night. You need not worry about her – and, well, you’d be close enough to get home quickly if you needed to.’
‘Umm, that’s a bit of a turn-up for the books, Mum. I thought you were going to say something terrible from the look on your face.’
‘No! No, nothing like that. We’ve been worried, that’s all, and we think it’d do you good to get away.’
‘I’m all right, Mum, Dad, honest. This is a lovely offer, but I don’t think right now is a good time.’
Jacob knelt beside me, resting his hands on my knees and gazing up at me. ‘It’s the perfect time. Come on, we need a break.’
I considered it. I truly did, Beth. If we had a break together, perhaps your dad would forget all about Flo. But putting our marriage first was selfish when you needed us. I shook my head. ‘Jacob, I’m so close to finding out who did this. I can’t—’
He’d already erupted onto his feet. ‘This again! You see what I’m talking about?’
My parents nodded. I looked from one to the other of them. And realised. ‘This is something you’ve all cooked up together? To stop what I’m doing?’
‘We’re worried about you,’ Mum repeated.
‘And you’re drinking too much,’ Dad growled. ‘You smell like a brewery, lass. You’ll find no answers at the bottom of a glass.’
‘I’ve had one drink, Dad.’ No need to mention it was for breakfast.
‘It’s not only that,’ Mum jumped in, ‘though it is worrying. You’re getting yourself worked up about trying to figure out who did this, aren’t you?’
‘Of course I am!’
‘Yes, yes, of course. But, well, the police are the experts, they’ll get to the bottom of this. If you start suspecting people you’ve known all your life, you’ll drive yourself mad.’
Jacob had been pacing during this exchange, but now he seemed to force himself to be still. He sank down at my feet again.
‘I know how horrifying it was when we thought the contents of that book were real. But, thank God, they’re not. Beth was just exploring her emotions by using her imagination. That’s all. James Harvey didn’t hurt her – he didn’t do anything to her.’
Absolute clarity radiated from his expression. He had no doubts. Maybe… maybe he was right.
‘He’s been completely exonerated, hasn’t he?’ I accepted quietly.
Jacob nodded, his eyes softening but never leaving mine. ‘If I thought he was guilty, and the police weren’t doing anything about it, I’d kill him.’
‘Would you?’ I whispered, stunned. But I knew he was simply using the expression everyone does; he didn’t actually mean the words. Although he might be moved to beat James Harvey up, on the spur of the moment, he would never go so far as to cause real hurt, let alone kill. He was too good a person.
‘But medics have proved Beth is still…’ Jacob floundered, not wanting to say the word virgin. ‘None of the dates add up, because there was never a chance for he and Beth to be together the way she describes. It’s just a fantasy.’
‘And he has a rock-solid alibi for the night Beth was hurt,’ reminded Mum.
I nodded slowly, their words hitting home at last. So why did I feel like the fog was descending on me, instead of lifting?
Why did my mother’s intuition scream that James was lying? What about Aleksy, who seemed to know more than he was letting on? What about Jill, and the lookout – was she smuggling drugs and you somehow found out? Why did the conversation with Alison feel like a jigsaw piece? And how much did Davy know? I need to talk to him again.
Am I losing my mind?
Seeing me appear to accept their words, everyone relaxed a little. The tension dissipated. I used my go-to excuse to leave the room to try to clear my head.
‘Cup of tea, anyone?’
As per usual, though, my plans were scuppered when Mum followed me into the kitchen.
‘Come here,’ she said, and went to hug me. I gently pushed her away. The hurt on her face at my rejection was writ large.
‘Mum…’ I knew there had to be a way of explaining this without hurting your Granny Heather, Beth, but I couldn’t think of it at that moment.
‘I wish you’d talk to me, Melanie. You used to tell me everything, but since Beth was hurt you’ve clammed up.’
‘Oh, Mum.’ I doubled over the counter, hands over my head. It was true. We’d always been best friends – like you and I.
‘Please, stop pushing me away, sweetheart.’ Her hand rubbed circles on my back, as if I were a child. Just as I used to do for you, Beth.
And that was the problem.
I wanted my mum. I wanted her to nurture me and take away the pain like she had when I was a child. I wanted to lie on the sofa and feel safe and have real, adult life suspended.
But I couldn’t be around my mum, because of my jealousy of her.
She had a daughter she could look after. I didn’t. So I avoided my mum, to avoid the pain of what I was missing. It felt better to sit alone, longing to be held, but not daring to accept it. How dare I be comforted, when my own child couldn’t be held properly in case we dislodged some vital wire? I couldn’t tell you that everything would be all right, because you couldn’t hear me.
I couldn’t fix you.
So I refused to be fixed too.
Trying to put that tangled ball of emotions into words was impossible, though; all I managed was a muffled cry.
Mum made soothing noises, but her hand rubbed my back faster, betraying how frantic she truly felt. She wanted to take my pain on, to spare me. But she couldn’t. Just like I couldn’t do that for you.
‘Oh, Mel. Oh, love. She’ll get better. She has to.’
‘She must have been so scared,’ I sobbed.
Did you look up at the full moon and think of me, Beth? Did you despair, or was there still hope in your heart that me and your dad would do our job to protect you?
There were so many questions, and I’d never find peace until I had answers. James Harvey may or may not be innocent, but someone put you in hospital, and I wouldn’t rest until I discovered who.
*
I finally stopped crying and managed to stand up straight after using half the kitchen roll to wipe my face and blow my nose. I felt better for giving in to my emotions for a while. The kettle had boiled and the water gone well and truly cold again in that time, so I really hoped Dad and Jacob hadn’t wanted their cuppas too badly. Finally I got myself together enough to make them.
Mum’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she watched me stirring the milk into their teas.