The Girl Who Lied(57)

‘It’s those bloody tree-huggers, isn’t it? They’ve brainwashed you.’ Ed stands and paces to the living-room window and back again. ‘Many a true word said in jest and all that.’

I can see he’s making a visible effort to compose himself. I want to make this as easy as possible for both of us. I suspect it’s his pride that hurts more than his heart.

‘It’s for the best. I’m going to be here for a while, helping Mum, and when Dad recovers they are both going to need support. Mum can’t do everything on her own.’

‘So you’re going to defect over to this backwater for good? Is this what you really want?’

‘Mum needs me.’

‘You didn’t answer my question. I said, is this what you really want?’

‘It’s a temporary thing.’

‘Bah! I can’t believe you want to give everything up: London, your flat, your job, your lifestyle…me…for this.’ He gestures around the room with his hand. ‘Your old bedroom, working in a café and a load of hillbillies.’

‘They are NOT hillbillies.’

‘As good as,’ says Ed. ‘I always thought you hated this life, here. That you never wanted to come back to it.’

‘Things change. People change.’ I’m conscious that I’m echoing exactly what Fiona has said to me. It seems there is some truth in it after all.

‘Don’t say I haven’t tried to talk you out of it,’ says Ed. ‘After all I’ve done for you and this is how you repay me. You’re like some sort of leech. I hope you’ll be happy now in this shit-hole because you won’t get another chance like mine again to get you out of it.’

He slams the door and I can hear his footsteps stamp angrily down the hallway. The bedroom door reverberates throughout the flat as he throws it closed behind him.

I sit still, analysing my feelings. I’m not sad. It surprises me. In fact, I’m already beginning to feel like the weight on my shoulders – to always live up to his expectations – is lighter. It’s the right decision.

Five minutes later I’m standing at the window watching Ed jump into his hired BMW and rev the engine excessively before tearing off down the road. His farewell had been terse and business-like. He would post my P45 out, check his flat for any of my belongings and take them round to the house I share. And just in case I thought about changing my mind – tough, because Ed didn’t do second chances.





Chapter 19


Teenage Kicks

Leaving day

I jump in the car, the engine is running and Niall pulls away before I’ve even shut the door properly.

‘We’ve done it,’ I say, stuffing my bag deep into the foot well.

‘Wahoo!’ yells Niall. He punches the air, the car takes a little swerve, which makes me grab onto the side of the seat. Niall rights the car and we speed off through the main street of the village.

‘Why are we going this way?’ I ask, looking across at Niall. I’m not sure I like the look on his face. He is grinning wildly. ‘We’re supposed to be making a secret escape.’

‘Niall throws his head back and laughs. ‘Just a little detour. Besides, I don’t give a feck about this lot. Small-minded villagers. They can kiss my arse.’

He takes one hand off the wheel and reaches over to the stereo, cranking up the volume. Drum ‘n’ base music blares out. Normally, I’d enjoy this but there is something about Niall that is making me nervous.

I turn the volume down and glance over at the speedo.

‘What are you doing?’ He attempts to reach over again and I push his hand away. ‘Stop it. It’s too loud and you’re driving too fast.’

We near the end of the road and at the last minute Niall applies the brakes, yanks the steering wheel to the right and the car throws itself around the corner. I’m flung into the side of the door.

‘For God’s sake! Slow down!’ I’m shouting at him. He’s scaring the life out of me. I’ve never seen him like this before. His pupils are dilated and he’s throwing his head back, laughing. ‘Niall,’ I plead with him. ‘Please slow down. What’s wrong with you?’ I hit his arm to make him listen to me. I can feel myself on the verge of tears. He’s really scaring me now.

Suddenly he slams on the brakes. We are just outside the village boundary now.

Throwing open the driver’s door he leans out and is sick all over the road. He releases his seat belt and stumbles out of the car across to the grass verge, where he vomits some more. I get out and rush around the car.

‘Are you okay?’ He looks a deathly white. He can’t focus on me properly and as he stands up he sways. ‘You’re drunk,’ I say. ‘Or high.’