She heard him murmuring, no doubt to Billy. She’d overheard that Maggie was going to stay for a little while and help take care of Ty since Vanessa was in no fit state to do so. She hadn’t even been able to hug him when he’d found out that his big brother, whom he adored, had died. What kind of mother did that?

‘Ness?’ Maggie poked her head through the door. She rolled over to face toward the window, away from Maggie. She felt her hovering by the door, wanting to speak but not knowing how to. ‘Billy…’ She cleared her throat. ‘Billy wants to call Mark. You know, before Wren… before he’s on the news.’

Vanessa didn’t roll over, but she did nod in agreement. Mark. Wren’s dad in name only. A drunk, wife-abusing bastard who hadn’t ever been interested in his sons. Would he even care that Wren was dead? Let them call, she didn’t care. She stared at the wall, but all she saw was Wren’s face.

23

Vanessa dressed with care. She rolled on her pantyhose, smoothing them up her long legs. She pulled on her black dress and zipped it up slowly. She watched herself in the full-length mirror mounted on the wall opposite their bed. Beyond the safety of her bedroom walls, she could hear Billy talking with Ty. Maggie and Billy were probably getting Ty fed, dressed and ready. Moving into the bathroom, Vanessa began applying layers of war paint. She put on her foundation, smoothing out her blotchy complexion, hiding her grief. She finished off by adding a thick layer of waterproof mascara. She had no idea why she was putting on makeup when she rarely wore it, but she guessed she felt she owed it to Wren to look her best. It made no sense, but it was what she needed right now, what she clung to. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at herself in the mirror. She ran her fingers underneath the bottom of her eyelids, removing the droplets of tears that decorated her lower lashes, hanging like tiny crystals. Her eyes were vacant: she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

Vanessa pulled her hair back into a tidy bun, securing it with pins. Vanessa changed her everyday small gold earrings to her more formal silver studs. She studied herself. She was dressed for the part of the grieving mother, but she was so much more than just a mother. She was a best friend, a confidant, something… more. She would never be ready for this day, but the knock at the door told her it was time to go anyway.