Hit and Run, Maria Frankland [books like harry potter txt] 📗
- Author: Maria Frankland
Book online «Hit and Run, Maria Frankland [books like harry potter txt] 📗». Author Maria Frankland
“Fiona, are you there?”
My head jerks towards the gate where my neighbour, Christina is wrestling with the handle.
“Come in. I’m over here.” I’ve never felt more relieved to see a familiar face. I get up and stumble towards her, finally allowing my pent-up self to fall apart in her arms. She’s one of the few friends I’ve got. And I’ve never needed a hug like I do right now.
“The police - I’ve just seen them looking around both of your cars - what on earth’s happened?” She strokes my hair, which makes me cry harder. It’s something my mum should be here doing. But she doesn’t want to know.
“Rob’s been in an accident. They’re saying he’s dead.”
“Dead. No. He can’t be. I only saw him this morning.”
“It happened at half ten.”
“Oh my God!”
DI Green comes to the door of the conservatory and looks at Christine who lets me go. “I’ll get another cup. Start taking some details please, John.”
PC Robinson’s head jerks up. I notice he’s got a look of Rob. A younger Rob. Same sort of build and it’s the hair too. “Will do.” He pulls a dog-eared notebook from his pocket and looks grateful to have something to do. “OK. I’m sorry to have to do this now, but I’m sure you can appreciate that it’s a necessary part of the process.” His gaze shifts from me to Christina. “You say you saw him this morning? What time was this?”
“I’m not sure.” Christina sits at the side of me. “Around nine-ish. Maybe half past. He was on his bike and waved at me.”
“Leaving here?”
“Yes.”
“And he was on his own?”
“I think so. I didn’t take that much notice to be honest. I was just wheeling the bin back in.”
DI Green returns and places a cup in front of Christina. The irony of what we are doing suddenly hits me.
“My husband is lying dead in some mortuary and we’re sitting here, drinking afternoon tea,” I snap. “All we need is a plate of biscuits. What are we playing at?” Then I remember Jack. “Shit. I forgot about my son. He’ll be waiting for me at school.”
“Can anyone collect him for you?” DI Green asks. “Whilst we ask you a few questions?” She glances at Christina as she speaks.
“I’d prefer Christina to stay here.” It’s true. I don’t know what good she can do, but I need someone with me. I’m shaking. I grab hold of my left wrist with my right hand to still it. If I’m left on my own, I’m likely to down that brandy. I shouldn’t have it in the house. I’m out of options in terms of Jack. Mum won’t come back. I can’t let Dad know about what’s happened, and Rob, the only other person who could collect Jack, well, he’s… Fresh tears slide down my face.
“Isn’t there an after-school club at The Whartons?” Christina puts an arm around me. “There was when my two were younger.”
“Could you ring them for me?” I sniff. “I don’t think I could get my words out.”
“Do you want me to tell them what’s happened?”
“No. Not until I know for definite. Tell them there’s been a family emergency. It might not even be Rob yet.”
The two police officers look at each other with a look that says poor cow. There’s a moment of silence as Christina waits for the call to connect.
“Are you OK for us to continue with our questions?” DI Green slides a mug towards me. “I’ve put lots of sugar in yours. It’s good for shock.”
I wrap my fingers around it, allowing the warmth to comfort my trembling hands. As I take a sip, I nearly spit it out. She must have put five sugars in it!
“I’m ringing regarding Jack, erm Matherson” Christina stands and walks towards the edge of the garden.
“Can you remember what your husband was wearing this morning?” DI Green asks.
My mind drifts back. “His cycling stuff.”
I can’t remember the colour he was wearing. I took little notice. He’s got stacks of golfing and cycling gear, though I’ve always told him he looks sexier in the cycling gear. At least, I used to. We’ve barely given each other a compliment in the last couple of months. Which would tie in with him being in contact with Bryony.
“Did he say where he was heading?”
“My son thought maybe Skipton. But to my knowledge, he sets off and goes wherever he ends up.”
“So quite a fit man then? And normally safe and capable on a bike?”
“Yes, always. Listen - before we go any further with this, I want to make sure it’s him.”
“Like we said, we’re…”
“If he’s dead, I want to see him. I won’t believe it until I do.”
“Very well.” DI Green sips from her mug and nudges her colleague. “We will wait until your friend has finished on the phone. Make sure your son is taken care of first. How old is he?”
“Seven. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to tell him.” I drop my head into my hands.
Christina walks back towards us. “One of Jack’s friend’s parents was in the office when the school secretary answered.” She places her hand over the mouthpiece of the mobile phone. “Anyway, the mum has offered to take him to their house. Give him some tea. Is that OK with you?”
“Whose mum?”
“Someone called Sam.”
I nod. “I know her address. I’ve dropped Sam off before when he’s been here. Tell her thanks.” I can’t believe I’m even capable of making decisions and holding a conversation. Not with all this going on.
She walks away again, completes the call, then comes to stand next to me.
“I’m off to make sure it’s him. Rob, I mean.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” She squints in the bright sunshine. However, her expression says she wants to do anything but come with me.
“No. This is something I should do on my own.”
She squeezes my arm. “Drop me a text when you get back. I’ll come over. You shouldn’t be
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