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

I can breathe again.

Chapter 24

“Do you fancy a bit of company?” Christina pops her head through the open conservatory door, making me jump. “You should keep this locked when you’re in on your own, you know. Anyone could sneak up on you.”

“I’m not on my own. My dad’s here. He’s just got back from taking Jack to school.”

“Was it your mum and dad that were shouting yesterday?” She sits beside me on the wicker sofa and places a hand on my arm. “I’ve been thinking about you, you know.”

Her sympathy warms me. “They’ve been having a few problems. My mum’s gone back home now though.”

“That’s all you need. Playing referee to your parents! I don’t know how you’re still standing.”

“Neither do I. And you only know the half of it.”

“Are you looking after yourself? Eating? Sleeping OK?”

Her concern brings tears to my eyes. “No, on both counts. But I’ll be fine. I had a meltdown yesterday, but it probably did me good.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She squeezes my arm on which her hand still rests. “You need to let it all out.”

“I’m trying to. Everyone’s been great around here. I’ve had bread and milk left on the doorstep, flowers, casseroles. I’m so glad to live amongst such good neighbours.”

“Everyone keeps asking about you – and Jack, of course. People just want to help.”

“I know, and I’m grateful. It’s just there’s so much - hang on, I’ll be back in a moment.” I rise as the doorbell echos through the house.

“I’ve got it,” Dad calls from the hallway.

I sit back down, ears pricked up in readiness for the identity of the caller. Probably salespeople at this time of day.

Moments later DI Green and PC Robinson appear in the conservatory doorway, with Dad behind them. I glance sideways at Christina.

“OK Fiona. We need to ask you some more questions. Under caution, this time.”

“What – what do you mean?”

Without responding, DI Green continues. “Fiona Matherson, we are arresting you on suspicion of causing death by dangerous driving. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

“Death by dangerous driving?” Dad echoes. “What are you on about? You should be out there, looking for the real culprit who did this. You’re clutching at straws here.”

I catch Christina’s expression, a cross between shock and suspicion.

“We’re going to take you down to the station,” PC Robinson says. “We’ve got the car waiting.”

“You can’t do this. My daughter has done nothing wrong!” Dad steps towards us.

Christina stands and places her hand on Dad’s arm as though trying to placate him.

“Don’t worry love.” There is panic in his voice. “I’ll get a solicitor organised and pick Jack up later. You don’t need to worry.”

As we pass through the hallway, I grab my cardigan which is hung over the banister. Not that I’ll need it in that sweaty hell-hole. I’ve had one shower already this morning, but I’ll need another one after I’ve been in there. The filth of the place gets into the pores of your skin.

As I’m guided into the back of the police car, I worry about how long I’ll be there. They’ve actually arrested me. What evidence they could have gained, I do not know. Thank God Dad is around to sort Jack out. DI Green sits alongside me, and PC Robinson gets into the driver’s seat. I look back at the worried faces of Christina and Dad as they stand in the porch. Christina folds her arms and looks down at her feet as she notices me watching them. Innocent until proven guilty, I want to shout at her. I thought you were my friend.

It’s a whole different scenario this time around. I’m not ushered into an interview room and offered a cup of tea. Instead, I’m treated like a criminal; swabbed, fingerprinted, photographed, and stripped of my jewellery. My engagement and wedding rings are slipped into a polythene bag. Two rings, so carefully chosen, so significant, so loved, now meaningless. Rob never got me an eternity ring, despite me dropping hints more than enough times.

I’m led to a cell to await the solicitor. Dad’s hopefully sorting it. I ask the custody sergeant to double check before he locks me in.

There’s a clunk of the lock, then the sergeant’s footsteps die away from the door. I sink to the concrete slab topped with a skinny mattress and survey my surroundings. It’s no wonder people kill themselves whilst incarcerated in these places – it’s absolutely dire. I wrap my arms around my legs and curl into the foetal position, scrunching my eyes against the gloom of the cell.

My grandmother’s face swims into my mind. I can’t imagine what she would say if she could see me here. I was twenty-six when she died, still in the grip of my drink addiction, which I kept well hidden from her. She liked a sherry herself, so would welcome me joining her in one, without realising how much sherry I could get through when she wasn’t looking.

Grandma, Dad, and Jack are the only people I’ve encountered in life who have genuinely loved me. Certainly not Mum. Friends have come and gone, most of them drunken acquaintances, and as for Rob. I would have added him to the list of people who loved me, until these last few days, with all that is coming to light.

“Fiona, we’ve had a call from the solicitor’s office.”

I hoist myself up in response to the voice. For a moment I wonder where I am. I must have fallen asleep. It’s DI Green.

“Mr Wright has been held up in court.” Her voice echoes around the concrete of the cell. “When he spoke to your father earlier, he had expected to be here by now. He thinks he’ll be here in an hour, two at the most. He sends his apologies.”

“Two hours. I can’t sit in here that long.”

“Well, you have the option of proceeding without him. It’s your call.”

I’m no