Aiden. She wrapped her arms around his neck more tightly. This was forever . She was sure of that.
Eleven
From the Brackston Herald , Wednesday 13 January
Although it is still a mystery how sixteen-year-old Natasha Howland (pictured left with her mother) came to be found in the local river on Saturday morning, the police are not currently considering foul play.
According to hospital sources, Miss Howland, a sixth form student at Brackston Community school, has made a good recovery after being pulled from the water and was released from hospital this morning. Feared dead on discovery, her resuscitation has been hailed as miraculous by both doctors and her family. She still has no memory of the events of that night. Although this story has a happy ending, it would appear the beginning is destined to remain a mystery. Both the Howland family and police are appealing for anyone who might have seen Natasha on the night of Friday, 8th January, to come forward.
Twelve
TAKEN FROM DI CAITLIN BENNETT’S FILES: EXTRACT FROM NATASHA HOWLAND’S NOTEBOOK
My mum took me shopping. Of course she did. What she lacks in interpersonal skills, she makes up for with cash. I guess in some ways it’s a good trade, and it’s not as if my dad doesn’t earn enough to keep us in the manner to which we have become accustomed . I hate that phrase. My mum uses it all the time and tries to make it sound like a joke, but it isn’t, really. It’s more of a threat. A reminder of what makes her marriage tick.
She loves my dad, I’m sure of it, but only as long as he keeps providing. She stays pretty and trim for him, goes to the gym and has facials, but all of it has a price tag. Not that he minds. He likes buying her things. Even the things she never uses – her untouched-for-months MacBook Air – the same as mine, matching gifts – how sweet ;her iPad mini, the only thing she sometimes uses, her Kindle and the various other electronic devices he thinks will make her life easier. They gather dust around the house. Unless I use them, of course.
All my mother really wants is for him to continue paying off her credit card every month when she’s spent hundreds on shoes and lunches and ‘wine with the girls’. And of course he does. Because that’s how they show their love. But it’s their life, not mine. I’m just another accessory. If this madness makes them happy then who am I to point it out? Especially with the allowance I get every month. And the freedom. It all works in my favour.
We came back from the hospital as a family, but as soon as we were through the front door and it was clear I wasn’t an invalid, Dad didn’t know what to do with himself. He headed off to work in his study so we could have some mother-daughter time . I don’t know how my mother felt about it, but it made me groan inside. I just wanted to chill out in my room. Do what I needed to do. Think about things. Maybe read the play before the audition. Prepare to go back to school. Go shopping on my own. I checked my various social media accounts on my phone as she made tea and cut us slices of chocolate cake – a sliver for her, a wedge for me – but the well-wishing was getting boring. Since it became clear I wasn’t going to follow through on my half-promise of death, a lot of the outpouring of love had dropped off. The drama was over. We’ll see about that when I get back to school. I have to laugh at myself a bit for that – the vanity of it all.
Once we’d drunk our tea and eaten the pieces of too-sweet cake, Mum declared that she’d have to skip dinner to make up for it, even though she’s as thin as a twig. It made me think I should skip dinner, too, as I’d eaten the Crunchies as well, and that irritated me. I don’t need to lose weight. I know my figure is good. So is hers. I was half-tempted to tell her that the skinny look doesn’t necessarily work on an ageing woman, but why spoil the moment?
I wonder if
Eleven
From the Brackston Herald , Wednesday 13 January
Although it is still a mystery how sixteen-year-old Natasha Howland (pictured left with her mother) came to be found in the local river on Saturday morning, the police are not currently considering foul play.
According to hospital sources, Miss Howland, a sixth form student at Brackston Community school, has made a good recovery after being pulled from the water and was released from hospital this morning. Feared dead on discovery, her resuscitation has been hailed as miraculous by both doctors and her family. She still has no memory of the events of that night. Although this story has a happy ending, it would appear the beginning is destined to remain a mystery. Both the Howland family and police are appealing for anyone who might have seen Natasha on the night of Friday, 8th January, to come forward.
Twelve
TAKEN FROM DI CAITLIN BENNETT’S FILES: EXTRACT FROM NATASHA HOWLAND’S NOTEBOOK
My mum took me shopping. Of course she did. What she lacks in interpersonal skills, she makes up for with cash. I guess in some ways it’s a good trade, and it’s not as if my dad doesn’t earn enough to keep us in the manner to which we have become accustomed . I hate that phrase. My mum uses it all the time and tries to make it sound like a joke, but it isn’t, really. It’s more of a threat. A reminder of what makes her marriage tick.
She loves my dad, I’m sure of it, but only as long as he keeps providing. She stays pretty and trim for him, goes to the gym and has facials, but all of it has a price tag. Not that he minds. He likes buying her things. Even the things she never uses – her untouched-for-months MacBook Air – the same as mine, matching gifts – how sweet ;her iPad mini, the only thing she sometimes uses, her Kindle and the various other electronic devices he thinks will make her life easier. They gather dust around the house. Unless I use them, of course.
All my mother really wants is for him to continue paying off her credit card every month when she’s spent hundreds on shoes and lunches and ‘wine with the girls’. And of course he does. Because that’s how they show their love. But it’s their life, not mine. I’m just another accessory. If this madness makes them happy then who am I to point it out? Especially with the allowance I get every month. And the freedom. It all works in my favour.
We came back from the hospital as a family, but as soon as we were through the front door and it was clear I wasn’t an invalid, Dad didn’t know what to do with himself. He headed off to work in his study so we could have some mother-daughter time . I don’t know how my mother felt about it, but it made me groan inside. I just wanted to chill out in my room. Do what I needed to do. Think about things. Maybe read the play before the audition. Prepare to go back to school. Go shopping on my own. I checked my various social media accounts on my phone as she made tea and cut us slices of chocolate cake – a sliver for her, a wedge for me – but the well-wishing was getting boring. Since it became clear I wasn’t going to follow through on my half-promise of death, a lot of the outpouring of love had dropped off. The drama was over. We’ll see about that when I get back to school. I have to laugh at myself a bit for that – the vanity of it all.
Once we’d drunk our tea and eaten the pieces of too-sweet cake, Mum declared that she’d have to skip dinner to make up for it, even though she’s as thin as a twig. It made me think I should skip dinner, too, as I’d eaten the Crunchies as well, and that irritated me. I don’t need to lose weight. I know my figure is good. So is hers. I was half-tempted to tell her that the skinny look doesn’t necessarily work on an ageing woman, but why spoil the moment?
I wonder if
Similar Books
