Hit and Run, Maria Frankland [books like harry potter txt] 📗

together much lately. I pull it towards me and inhale the scent of his aftershave.

Then I feel something rustle in the top pocket and pull out a receipt. It’s textbook affair stuff. Rummaging through my husband’s pockets. A receipt from the Queen’s Hotel in Leeds. The Thursday before last. When he said he was at a conference in the Midlands. I now know they had suspended him from his job. It’s for a meal. A hundred and nine pounds. Wine. A king room. I stare at it. It must be Bryony.

* * *

I’m doing what I can to get through it.

The guilt is seeping in occasionally,

but when I focus on the bigger picture,

I know it will be worth it.

Chapter 22

Jack spoons rice crispies from his bowl to his mouth. “I don’t want to go to school today Mummy. I only want my daddy.” He’s reverted to referring to us as mummy and daddy again. He’d started calling us mum and dad before all this, like his friends do, he had said. At the time, I had felt a pang that he was growing up.

“I know, love. But I think you should go to school. It will do you good to be around your friends. Keeping busy will help you feel better – I promise. I’ll take you today.”

I need him to go to school if the truth be known. I’ve planned to spend the day tearing Rob’s office to bits. The police have taken his laptop and phone, where I reckon a lot of the information will be, but there’s plenty of paperwork to go through and some phone calls I can make.

I also plan to get rid of Mum. I can’t cope with her here. Thankfully, she’s sleeping the wine off. I’ve moved the empty bottles from the garden table. It feels strange, dumping drink bottles in the recycling after a year of not doing so. I’m going to ask Dad if he will swap places with her. The police investigation is ongoing, and I’ve got a funeral to plan. I’m much better with him around.

I don’t owe my mother a thing. And if she thinks she can pour all her bloody boyfriend woes out to me whilst getting slaughtered, she’s very much mistaken.

“How are you doing Fiona? Lynne appears at my car window as I pull up at the side of the school gates. “Are you coping OK?”

“As one does when their husband has been killed in a hit and run.”

She pulls what can only be described as a sympathetic face. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through. But as I’ve said before, if I can help with Jack at all?”

Everyone trots out the same lines to me. But Lynne’s getting on my nerves, constantly asking to take Jack. I’m sure she means well, but it’s the fourth time in as many days. Does she think I can’t cope with him?

“Thank you. But his place is with me right now, where I can help him come to terms with things.”

“Well, the offer is always there. As you know, Sam loves having him around. We can keep his mind off things.”

“Thanks, but right now, he probably needs to face the fact that he’s lost his dad. In his own surroundings.” I try to muster a smile. “Honestly, I really appreciate the offer. I must go, anyway. I’ve got loads to do.”

I should be grateful really. She’s one of the few mothers that speaks to me, but I can’t understand what she wants from me. It’s not as if she’s short of a friend, or a chat. She probably goes back to them with the gossip from my sad life.

I’m glad that Mum is still sleeping when I arrive back at home. I head straight for the phone in the lounge.

“Dad. It’s me.” He always recites his full telephone number when he answers. York, seven, six, three, one, eight, two. He’s so old-school. He even drives a Ford Sierra. It’s a relic now, but he says it’s economical and still goes. Apart from recently, when the petrol tank fell onto the forecourt when he was filling up. That was hilarious. I wonder what car Shane drives. Whatever it is, it’s turned Mum’s head.

“How are you doing, love? Is it all sinking in?”

“Yes. I guess so. I still feel really out of it though.”

“How’s Jack?”

“Up and down. It’s his reaction that’s getting to me the most. I can kind of keep going, but supporting him is hard.”

“It’ll all take time. You’ve had a massive shock. What about, dare I ask – your mother?”

My hesitation probably says it all. Eventually I say, “I could really do with her going home, to be honest Dad.”

“Is it that bad? Have you told her?”

“She’s still sleeping. She drank two bottles of wine last night.”

“You’re kidding.” There’s a slight pause before he says, “I’m coming over.”

“No. Dad. It’s…” She’s going to kill me for this.

“I’m on my way.” He rings off. I am pleased really. After all, this is

what I wanted.

There’s still no sound from upstairs. I don’t want Mum to wake until Dad gets here. Hopefully, he’ll stay then, and send her home. At least he’ll help me out with Jack, without telling me he’s already done his time, bringing me up.

I make myself a coffee and take it up to the office, closing the door softly behind me. The letter from Bracken Furniture is as I left it on Rob’s desk, with the bank statement beside it. I wonder whether the police know anything about this yet. I guess if there is anything relevant to discover, they’ll find it.

He has somehow embezzled a hundred and twenty-two thousand pounds. It’s a sizeable amount, but not exactly earth shattering. We could have scraped that together between us. I’d already given him thirty grand to invest. And he had some of his own. There should be forty grand in our joint account as well. My heart rate quickens as reality dawns.