Where the Memories Lie

 

Why did she want to run away from all of us? What did you and Jack do to her?’

 

She tried to push the door closed but I was stronger, and I wanted an answer. No. Needed an answer.

 

‘We didn’t kill her! Your bastard father-in-law did.’

 

‘But if she hadn’t been running away that day maybe none of this would’ve happened. What did she mean in the letter? What happened to her?’

 

She scowled in return, her facing turning a mottled red.

 

‘She just wanted to be loved. What’s wrong with that? You and Jack didn’t care about her, did you? All you cared about was the drink. You neglected her, let her fend for herself. You can’t deny that, can you?’

 

‘Don’t you dare try and pin this on me,’ she screeched. And with an almighty push using both hands, she shoved the door closed. I just managed to retrieve my foot before it got crushed in the process.

 

Well, that apology had gone swimmingly well.

 

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Chapter Twenty-Six

 

 

The Tate family was cursed. It was as if Tom’s confession had unleashed something dark and destructive. Some foul black ripple effect that kept coming at us, leaving us splut-tering and gasping for air, threatening to drown us all in it.

 

I stared at the computer screen in the nurses’ room, totally unprepared for what I was seeing. With everything going on I’d completely forgotten about her appointment. I scrolled backwards to the main menu and went into her records again, just to make sure I was looking at the right ones.

 

Yes, there it was.

 

The blood test results had come through earlier that morning.

 

Charlotte. Too many white blood cells. Not enough platelets.

 

Not enough red blood cells. But the real kick was that there were blasts ? immature cells that aren’t normally found in blood. It was highly suggestive of leukaemia. She’d need a sample of her bone marrow cells examined to make sure, but the blood test seemed pretty conclusive. It explained all her symptoms, too. The nosebleeds, fatigue, pale skin, loss of appetite, being unable to shake that virus. How had I missed it all? Taken individually, maybe they didn’t add up to much. Nadia had been adamant the nosebleed was Where the Memories Lie an accident. And weren’t all teenagers stressed and run down during exam times? None of it had seemed that drastic on its own. But in context, it was glaringly obvious. And I’d missed it all. I’d been so busy worrying about everything surrounding Katie’s murder that I’d overlooked something so vital. I was a disgrace as a nurse, and an aunt.

 

Charlotte. Leukaemia.

 

I rested my forehead on the desk and closed my eyes, too shocked to even cry. My beautiful niece had leukaemia.

 

Was she going to die? Was this all some kind of family karma?

 

Redemption? A life for a life?

 

How much more could we all take? It was cruel and unfair and . . . why? Just, why? What had Charlotte ever done to deserve this?

 

The only thing that helped me was doing something proactive, and that meant sorting out the immediate next steps for Charlotte with her GP, Doctor Palmer, who called Nadia to arrange for them all to come to the surgery later that afternoon.

 

As I waited for their appointment time, my mind was all over the place. I tried about six times before I managed to finally draw blood from Sam Caldwell’s vein, something unheard of for me. And I forgot to tell Jimmy Dawson to come back in two days to get the abscess on his back lanced if the cream I gave him didn’t draw it out.

 

I had to call him later to let him know.

 

I hovered outside Doctor Palmer’s office while they were inside, wringing my hands, waiting for them after they’d been dealt the life-shattering blow.

 

Nadia had tears in her eyes as she led Charlotte back out with an arm protectively around her shoulder. Charlotte’s eyes were blank, her mouth hanging open, lips trembling. She was in shock.

 

Lucas’s colour had faded to a sickly pallor, pinpricks of sweat on his forehead.

 

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