The Silent Suspect by Nell Pattison (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud .TXT) 📗

Okay, I replied, unsure what to ask. I’d fought hard for her to be able to access the brain injury support group – at first they’d said she was welcome to attend but that I would have to act as interpreter for her, which we both refused point blank. Family shouldn’t be fulfilling that role, and I knew Anna would never open up about her experience with me there. It had taken a few meetings and strongly worded emails, but in the end some funding was made available for an interpreter, and Anna started attending the group just after Christmas.

Do you think it’s been beneficial? I asked her, not wanting to pry too much but also interested in her reasons for wanting to stop going.

She shrugged but didn’t look me in the eye. I think so. I think it’s helped to go over what happened, and to talk about the things I’ve found difficult while I’ve been recovering. But a lot of them just go over the same thing repeatedly, and I’m finding that part difficult to deal with.

Do you mean some of the other members?

She nodded. Yeah, I think a couple of them are a bit stuck, for want of a better word. They either haven’t dealt with whatever happened to them, whether it was an illness or an injury, or they can’t cope with the changes in their life. I understand, I really do, because I’ve been there. But I’m worried the more time I spend with people who can’t move on, the harder it will be for me to move on. Does that make sense?

It does, I replied, giving her hand a squeeze. Do you feel like you’ve come to terms with what happened?

I think so, she said, and a dark look passed over her face. I wondered if she was remembering the day she was hit by a van and left for dead at the side of the road. The memory of coming home and finding the police outside my door was one I wouldn’t forget any time soon.

It’s taken a while to get used to my own limitations, she continued, sitting up a bit straighter, but I think I’m getting there. I get tired more easily, and I know my emotions are a bit more volatile than they were before, she added with an apologetic smile. But I’m making a new life for myself, and I don’t feel like the group needs to be part of that now.

That makes sense, I told her. But maybe you should think about giving it another couple of weeks, I suggested.

Why? she asked, and I could see the suggestion irritated her slightly so I held up a hand in defence.

I’m not telling you to go, I quickly clarified. If you don’t want to go I can’t make you. I just meant you shouldn’t make a decision too quickly, that’s all. I knew she could be impulsive, and I wondered if something else had happened in her group to make her wary of going.

Paige, will you accept that I know what I’m doing, for once? she asked, getting up off the grass. At least I know what I want and I’m prepared to own my decisions, unlike you.

Her comment stung, but I knew I couldn’t argue with her. I stood up too, and she glared at me with her arms folded. I just want to move on without being constantly reminded of what’s wrong with me, she signed. She was more defensive than I’d expected, and I knew there was something else going on, but she clearly didn’t want to tell me.

In my pocket, I felt my phone vibrate, and when I pulled it out I saw it was Max. I’d missed a couple of calls from him earlier when I’d been talking to Singh and I felt a pang of guilt that I hadn’t returned them, so I knew I really had to answer this one.

Hi, I signed, my smile feeling a little forced.

Hi, I’ve been worried about you, Max said straight away. What have you been up to?

I had some work to do this morning, I replied, not going into any details in the hope he wouldn’t push it. How are you?

I’m good thanks, better for seeing you, he added with a grin. I was wondering what you fancied doing tomorrow?

I thought I’d just come over to yours, I replied, mindful of the conversation we needed to have and not really wanting to have it in a public place.

Okay. I wondered if you’d like to go up to the funfair, he said with a hopeful tilt to his eyebrows.

I winced, then turned my phone around so he could see where I was. Sorry, I told him. I came up tonight with Anna. We can still come tomorrow if you like, though.

He shook his head. No, it’s fine. We’ll do something else. I could tell he was annoyed but he was trying to hide it, and I felt a pang of guilt for not telling him we were going. One of our first dates had been to the funfair a year earlier, and I should have realised the significance. If I was honest, though, it hadn’t occurred to me to let him know.

Once I’d hung up, I went to find Anna, wondering if I’d be able to get any sleep tonight, or if I’d lie awake rehearsing what I wanted to say to Max tomorrow.

Four hours before the fire

The car door slammed as Mariusz flung himself into the passenger seat and huddled down, his face glued to his mobile.

‘What was it this time?’ Caroline asked as she pulled out of the school car park. Her son ignored her and put his headphones in, but she reached over and pulled them out again with a deft flick of her wrist.

‘Don’t try that with me; I’m not beyond grounding you.’

Mariusz let out a snort. ‘How would you manage that? You’re never in.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry for going to