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

She’s a young woman, petite and pretty, making me even more aware of my unkemptness.

“I’m not being charged?”

“Not yet. That doesn’t mean you won’t be though. Your case is pending enquiries. DI Green and PC Robinson have a few more people to talk to.”

“Like who?”

“It’s their case, so I’m not sure. I wouldn’t be able to say, anyway. I shouldn’t tell you this but I understand some analysis is due to be carried out on an old tyre that was taken into a garage. So once that comes back, they may want to speak to you again.” She steps further into the cell. “Gosh, it doesn’t smell too fresh in here, does it?”

“I’ve already complained. It’s not fit for a dog.”

“I’ll make sure it gets sorted. Anyway, my advice to you would be to get yourself some legal representation. Like I said, you’re on police bail and you’re required to report back here a week from now.”

“Why?”

“It’s the condition that has been set. You’ll be notified in the meantime if they lift bail, or alternatively, you could be rearrested.”

I will not argue. I sign to accept the bail conditions and am grateful to also have my phone returned to me.

* * *

The flattened grass has sprung back,

and they have removed the accident sign.

The only evidence that anything ever happened is

the pile of flowers

at his final resting place.

Chapter 26

I slide my purse from my bag. “A double gin and tonic, please.” It’s the middle of the afternoon and the town centre pub is already half full of daytime drinkers. There are a few people with food, but most are people here to make the most of the happy hour prices. Happy hour lasts from three until six pm in here.

Over the last year, I’ve convinced myself that the smell of an alcoholic drink would repulse me. However, as I raise it to my lips, this is not the case. The liquid seems to infiltrate my being, and it feels like coming home. A warmth spreads through me and I’m immediately calmer. Within a minute, the glass is empty.

“You look like you needed that!” The young and exceptionally good-looking bar man smiles at me. “Can I get you another?”

“Well, with an offer of two-for-one measures, it would be rude not to.” I smile back and slide my glass towards him. Though what I have got to smile about, who knows? I feel almost normal, whatever that is, since I came in here. “Make that two,” I say. “I’m expecting my friend shortly.” For a moment, I feel sad. I wish I was expecting a friend. I could certainly use one right now. Instead, I’m pretending one is on their way just so I can buy two doubles without looking like a complete alcoholic, as Mum so nicely calls me.

I enjoy the familiar sound of fizz as I empty the bottles of tonic water into each of the double gins over the ice. I’ve never been one for all these fancy fruity gins. Straight London gin, that’s me. As I make my way over to a secluded table in the corner, the ice clinks against the glasses. I feel hazy after just one drink - it has been a year. I promise myself that I will order some food soon. I will be blotto if I don’t.

Now that I’ve got my phone back, I should let Dad know that they have let me out of the police station. He would expect me to go straight back home though. I can’t face home right now. The walls are closing in on me. Dad would be heartbroken if he knew where I was. Besides, he’ll be picking Jack up from school about now. I need some me time. I’ll eat. And then I’ll go home.

I make the next two drinks last longer. I’ve got plenty to mull over, although the effects of the gin quickly affect my ability to contemplate anything clearly.

I’m on bail for causing death by dangerous driving. As soon as I sober up, I’ll get some proper advice. I know I shouldn’t be in here, but I can’t take any more crap this week. If this is the only escape on offer, I’m having it. Tomorrow is another day.

There’s never any music in this pub, but I’ve always found it to be atmospheric. It’s a pleasant building and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, gearing up towards Friday night, and the weekend. I expect most of them will spend it continuing to drink.

Not me though. I’m better than that now. As I raise the glass to my lips, I know I’m not, really. I’m on my third double, and I might as well have another one when I finish this. What’s that saying Grandma had, you might as well get hung for a sheep as for a lamb? The more I look around at the conversations and enjoyment occurring around me, the lonelier I feel.

I’ve got to find this James Turner. He’s got our money – and he’s ripping us off. I hope Rob had some proper paperwork drawn up for these investments. I wonder why the police aren’t getting on to this man. My signature has been forged at least twice, and there’s all that money that has gone missing from Bracken Furniture. The huge transfer has got his guilt written all over it. Why are they blaming me for everything?

I don’t feel able to walk to the bar again but fumble around with my phone and download the app to receive table service. I order another two doubles, this time vodka and coke, and a plate of chips to soak it all up.

By the time I’ve drained the last of my gin, my order has arrived.

“Just one plate of chips?” the barman asks. “Doesn’t your friend want some?”

“She’s just popped out,” I say. “She’ll order some when she gets back.”

“OK. Enjoy.”

I pick at the chips unenthusiastically. Drink has always stripped me of any desire to eat. And today,