the lock that always stuck, cursing the landlord for not spending money on the place. Once inside, I screamed out his name, convinced he’d been holed up here, hiding . . . but from what?
The only thing I could think of was from me.
I tripped on the bottom stair, saving myself with my hands, hurting my wrist. I didn’t care about the pain. I charged upstairs to the top-floor window where I’d seen Rick, screaming out to him as I went.
I didn’t mind what he’d done, or why he’d done it . . .
I’d found him!
He would come home, and I’d forgive him, and everything would be fine again. I knew no miracle would bring Jacob back – I’d had to identify his body, after all – but if we could just get back to three out of four, I’d settle for that. With half of us gone, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could carry on.
I knock back the remaining wine. It’s only a small bottle, but being the second one, I’m already starting to feel numb.
The thing is, when I got upstairs and burst into that front bedroom, Rick wasn’t there. Not a trace of him, though I swore I caught a whiff of his aftershave in the still, dusty air of the derelict place.
But they say that’s what happens when you go mad, when you’re so convinced you’ve seen something that doesn’t exist, when you believe it with all your heart and soul. It’s an easy slippage into an alternate reality. And once there, it’s almost impossible to get back.
As I turned to leave, hating myself for being so stupid, I suddenly screamed.
The face was looming above me – a pale face in a ghastly old oil painting hanging on the wall opposite. My nerves were in tatters. It must have been what I’d seen from outside – a badly painted 1970s portrait of a man much older than Rick.
I swiped it off the wall in anger, knowing no one would notice or even care. The place was derelict anyway. Then I kicked a hole in it.
There was no Rick. And there was no happy ending. Just me descending into madness.
‘Mum,’ Hannah says, coming back into our room, making me jump. Cooper trots in beside her. ‘This place is really nice. You should see the pool and spa area.’
Hannah is breathless and beautiful, and glowing with something I envy so badly I can’t even give it a name. Probably once I’d have called it love.
‘But what I don’t understand,’ she continues, a frown forming, ‘is how Susan knew my name just now when I saw her on the stairs.’ She takes my hand and tries to pull me off the bed. ‘I swear we didn’t tell her.’
Hannah
At least Mum has stopped going on about Dad turning up at the hotel. Frankly, it’s a bit sick of her to think like that, as though he’d actually want to torture us. But I know she has to chew through this in her own way.
I had this crazy idea that being away from all the stuff at university would somehow help me get through it, but now I’m not so sure. Stuck-on shit follows you wherever you go, I’ve come to realise, while the nasty, angry, bitter voice in my head says:
Good, you deserve it
.
But when I look at Mum, I know that she doesn’t deserve it. I so badly want to help her, but the thing is, I so badly can’t.
She looks at me from the bed, a sweep of fear touching her face for a second. Then I reach out and take her hand, pulling her up. Lying there like that, it looks as though she’s almost given up.
‘We must have told her your name,’ Mum says. ‘I probably mentioned it when we checked in. How would she know it otherwise?’
We definitely didn’t tell her
, I think, but I don’t want to make Mum worry. I didn’t fill out any forms, and Mum didn’t write down my name on the one Susan gave her. In fact, I felt a bit awkward, wondering if I should introduce myself, but I decided against it. I was more preoccupied with the text I’d just had, not knowing whether to reply or not.
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ I say, smiling.
‘So,’ she says, looking all sleepy after her bath. ‘How
The only thing I could think of was from me.
I tripped on the bottom stair, saving myself with my hands, hurting my wrist. I didn’t care about the pain. I charged upstairs to the top-floor window where I’d seen Rick, screaming out to him as I went.
I didn’t mind what he’d done, or why he’d done it . . .
I’d found him!
He would come home, and I’d forgive him, and everything would be fine again. I knew no miracle would bring Jacob back – I’d had to identify his body, after all – but if we could just get back to three out of four, I’d settle for that. With half of us gone, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could carry on.
I knock back the remaining wine. It’s only a small bottle, but being the second one, I’m already starting to feel numb.
The thing is, when I got upstairs and burst into that front bedroom, Rick wasn’t there. Not a trace of him, though I swore I caught a whiff of his aftershave in the still, dusty air of the derelict place.
But they say that’s what happens when you go mad, when you’re so convinced you’ve seen something that doesn’t exist, when you believe it with all your heart and soul. It’s an easy slippage into an alternate reality. And once there, it’s almost impossible to get back.
As I turned to leave, hating myself for being so stupid, I suddenly screamed.
The face was looming above me – a pale face in a ghastly old oil painting hanging on the wall opposite. My nerves were in tatters. It must have been what I’d seen from outside – a badly painted 1970s portrait of a man much older than Rick.
I swiped it off the wall in anger, knowing no one would notice or even care. The place was derelict anyway. Then I kicked a hole in it.
There was no Rick. And there was no happy ending. Just me descending into madness.
‘Mum,’ Hannah says, coming back into our room, making me jump. Cooper trots in beside her. ‘This place is really nice. You should see the pool and spa area.’
Hannah is breathless and beautiful, and glowing with something I envy so badly I can’t even give it a name. Probably once I’d have called it love.
‘But what I don’t understand,’ she continues, a frown forming, ‘is how Susan knew my name just now when I saw her on the stairs.’ She takes my hand and tries to pull me off the bed. ‘I swear we didn’t tell her.’
Hannah
At least Mum has stopped going on about Dad turning up at the hotel. Frankly, it’s a bit sick of her to think like that, as though he’d actually want to torture us. But I know she has to chew through this in her own way.
I had this crazy idea that being away from all the stuff at university would somehow help me get through it, but now I’m not so sure. Stuck-on shit follows you wherever you go, I’ve come to realise, while the nasty, angry, bitter voice in my head says:
Good, you deserve it
.
But when I look at Mum, I know that she doesn’t deserve it. I so badly want to help her, but the thing is, I so badly can’t.
She looks at me from the bed, a sweep of fear touching her face for a second. Then I reach out and take her hand, pulling her up. Lying there like that, it looks as though she’s almost given up.
‘We must have told her your name,’ Mum says. ‘I probably mentioned it when we checked in. How would she know it otherwise?’
We definitely didn’t tell her
, I think, but I don’t want to make Mum worry. I didn’t fill out any forms, and Mum didn’t write down my name on the one Susan gave her. In fact, I felt a bit awkward, wondering if I should introduce myself, but I decided against it. I was more preoccupied with the text I’d just had, not knowing whether to reply or not.
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ I say, smiling.
‘So,’ she says, looking all sleepy after her bath. ‘How
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