‘I don’t need a break from my son,’ says Heather, her voice rising.

Margot places a soothing hand on Heather’s leg. The blanket under her fingers feels coarse, as though it’s been washed too many times. ‘I can bring him in later, if you like. I can pick him up early from nursery.’

This seems to mollify Heather and she sits back against the pillows, the frown disappearing. The doctors said this might happen: that Heather will find it hard at first to keep a lid on her emotions.

‘I wanted to talk to you about something,’ begins Margot, gently.

‘What’s that?’

‘Do you remember your old friend, Jessica Fox?’

She looks surprised. ‘Yes. Of course. Why?’

‘She’s been in touch. She’s a journalist now. Working for the local paper. She’s been concerned about you.’

Heather examines her hands where they lie in her lap. ‘Right.’

‘I wasn’t sure about her, at first, but she’s been … well, a comfort to me in a way, I suppose.’

Heather lifts her head and her eyes lock with Margot’s. ‘A comfort?’

‘I’ve been out of my mind with worry.’

Heather averts her eyes.

‘And Jess has warded off the other journalists.’

Heather smiles. ‘She probably just wants the story, Mum.’

‘I thought that, too. At first. But I don’t know. There’s more to it than that. I think she is, well, fond of you. Still.’

Heather shakes her head. ‘It’s been eighteen years.’

‘I know. It’s a long time. But you were so close, once.’

‘We were children.’

‘I know … I know. But … would you like to see her? She’s asked if she can see you. Not straight away, of course.’

Heather fiddles with a loose thread on her blanket. ‘I suppose. It would be interesting to see her again. But …’

Margot inches forward in her chair. ‘But what?’

‘I don’t know. It’s all water under the bridge, now, I suppose, but she was weird with me after Flora disappeared. It really affected our friendship.’

Margot’s puzzled. ‘I thought you fell out over a boy.’

‘No. There was no boy. I just told you that to stop you asking so many questions about it. The truth was, she just stopped being my friend, which was weird because she used to love being with us all. She’d practically moved in that last summer. But she began to avoid me, started hanging around with that horrible Gina McKenzie again. I felt she was hiding something from me and also, I could be wrong but it was almost …’ she hesitates and Margot has to prompt her to continue, and when she does it sends goosebumps all over Margot’s body ‘… it was almost as if she was scared of me.’

Chapter 29

29

Jess