Hit and Run by Maria Frankland (best book recommendations txt) 📗

a drop of alcohol, it will make me violently sick.” I sit on the sofa opposite him. “People at AA have tried them, so I know they work.”

“Right. Well, if you think they will help you.”

“Look, I’ve had a blowout. And now I need to focus Dad. I’ve so much to sort out.” I look at him, relieved that the sharpness in his face has softened. “I’ve just been knocked back for a loan and only approved for a £1200 limit on a credit card. I don’t know how I’m going to pay for Rob’s funeral.”

“Did he not leave any provision for it? When I depart this mortal coil, there’s a funeral plan to cover it.”

“I don’t think so. He was too busy fleecing me to be bothered about any sort of provision. Besides, I don’t suppose he was expecting to die just yet.”

Dad sits back in his seat and moves the bin to one side with his foot. “If he was having some sort of relationship with this Bryony one, and if he has manipulated funds by forging your signature, then I don’t see why the responsibility of his funeral should fall solely to you.”

“Well, who else is going to be responsible? People are hardly lining up. Rob was an only child and his parents are dead. He might have done me over, but I’m still his next of kin. And the mother of his son.”

“I get all that. And I also get the impression that you’re asking me for help?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I just don’t know what to do Dad.” God, the bin reeks. I pick it up and put it outside the conservatory door. My sense of smell is always heightened after a migraine.

“I. erm, it’s your mother… She’s got hold of the purse strings, as you know, and I’m not sure what’s happening with me and her yet.”

“I know.” I also know Mum’s as tight as a duck’s bum, and in all honesty, I don’t want her knowing anything about my financial situation. She will use it as another stick to beat me with.

“How come you’ve been knocked back for a loan? You won’t have any bad credit, will you?”

“Probably because I don’t work. I don’t know. But I definitely need to find out it there’s anything else that Rob’s been financially implicating me in.”

“Are you absolutely sure you’ve known nothing about it.”

“I hate that you don’t trust me Dad.”

“I do. It’s just… what does your solicitor say?”

“He never came the other day. He was held up at court. He left a message with the officers who interviewed me.”

“You never said. Why on earth didn’t you wait for him?” He leans towards me. “You were being questioned for causing death by dangerous driving, and you let them interview you without a solicitor. Are you mad?”

“I think he’s been trying to ring me” I can’t argue with Dad. “ I just wanted to get out of there. You should see the inside of those places.”

“Surely you got in touch for help with the assault charge? Don’t tell me you faced that one on your own as well?”

“I felt too ashamed Dad. Besides, there’s no solicitor that can get me out of that one, is there?”

“Oh, Fiona.”

“Look, I’ll give him a ring now.” I walk into the dining room, where I’ve left my phone, scroll to the messages he’s left, and hit call as I walk back into the conservatory.

“Well, thank God for that.”

“It’s Fiona Matherson,” I say. “Is that Alan Wright?”

“Ah, I’m glad you’ve got back to me Fiona. I had DI Green on the phone a short time ago, wanting to make an appointment for us all to meet at the station.” His voice is warm. Trustworthy. “She wants to go through the allegation of causing death by dangerous driving in more depth. The sooner we find out what we’re dealing with, the better.”

“They’re saying I took my car in for a tyre repair after my husband was killed. But I didn’t. I was at home.”

“Right OK. Because I didn’t get to your initial interview, they’ve agreed to provide a space where we can go through the allegation before they interview you again. They’re suggesting tomorrow?”

“But it’s Sunday tomorrow.”

“Like I said, the sooner the better. We must go through some paperwork as well. Formalise the fact that I’m acting for you.”

I raise a hand to my aching head. “Have you been told about the other charge yet?”

“Yes. DI Green mentioned it. We can talk more about that tomorrow as well. They can see us any time until two o’clock. Does eleven am sound OK?”

“Just a second.” I lower the phone. “Dad. I’ve got to go back to the police station in the morning and meet the solicitor. Are you still going to be here? Will you look after Jack?”

He nods.

“I’ll see you there.” Dread pools in the pit of my stomach at the thought of another police interview. “I must go. I’ve got another call coming through.”

“Great. It’s the funeral director,” I say to Dad, closing my eyes as I raise the phone back to my ear. “What a fun-filled few days it’s been. Hello?”

“Mrs Matherson. We’re just ringing to rearrange yesterday’s appointment. We were expecting you at 4pm?”

I won’t tell them I was too busy getting slaughtered, before going off to threaten Rob’s ex, or whatever relationship he and Bryony classed themselves as having. Instead, I apologise and make an appointment to go in on Monday morning, after I’ve taken Jack to school, assuming the police let me go again tomorrow. At least I’ve got a solicitor this time.

It’s probably best to send Dad back to Mum after I’ve been to the station. Whether she will agree to helping with the funeral fees, I don’t know. I can’t believe I am having to go cap in hand. Hopefully, Mum won’t come back here before the funeral. I really can’t cope with her.

She must be telepathic. As I hang up from