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

maybe they will. If it all stacks up enough. I was such an idiot going around to Bryony’s like I did. Bloody drink. How could I have been so stupid?

“I couldn’t place you. But you look familiar. We get loads of customers in here. And I’m useless with faces. My mum…”

“I don’t really care about your mum. You’ve got me into a shitload of trouble, telling the police I was here on Monday.”

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”

“Look.” For a moment, he looks so out of his depth that I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. “All I want you to do is give the police a call. Tell them you’ve made a mistake.”

“I can’t. My boss. He’s already unhappy with the police sniffing around. And I don’t know that I did make a mistake. I just took your details, didn’t I?”

“Look you.” I step towards him. “You either let them know that you don’t recognise me, and that you got it wrong, or I’ll make sure you lose your job.”

“How? You can’t do that.”

“Watch me. I’m warning you.”

“But I’m not even sure whether it was you now. I just fitted the tyre.”

“So you remember doing that?”

“Yeah. It’s a quick job. I had a car on the ramp in here, so I nipped out to do it. You were in a rush. I thought I was doing you a favour.”

“It wasn’t bloody me. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“But you gave me your details.” There’s a squint in his eyes as he seems to look more closely at me. If there was to be a line-up, as Alan speculated, this lad would definitely pick me out now.

“I didn’t give you any details. It wasn’t me!”

“You need to go. My boss is due back. He’ll ring the police.”

“For what?”

“They’ve done you for killing your old man, haven’t they?”

“You little…” I step towards him, but he’s too quick. He’s back inside his cabin before I can get near him, and he’s sliding a bolt across. I wanted him to look at me, admit he didn’t recognise me, and agree to go to the police. That’s all gone pear-shaped.

I’d better get out of here before he rings them, or his boss turns up. I’ll probably get done for interfering with witness testimonies, or something. I’ve had enough for one day. And enough drama to last a lifetime. It’s time to go home. Back to Dad and Jack. Back to normality. I can face all this again tomorrow.

* * *

Sunday.

A day of rest.

For everyone except me.

Chapter 33

It’s Monday. Another week begins. Starting with my appointment with the funeral director. “Thanks for coming in Mrs Matherson. I’m Emma Rowlings and I’m going to be taking your instructions today.”

I accept the handshake she offers. “Hello.”

“Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”

I accept gratefully. Jack had a meltdown this morning, so I didn’t have time for a coffee before taking him to school. Dad was still in the shower, so I had to deal with him myself. It feels like I’ve already done a full day’s work. I sink into a seat at the polished oak desk as she leaves the room.

I notice the tissue box in the centre. There’s a painting accompanied by the words, Look for me in rainbows, high up in the sky. I wouldn’t want to look for Rob right now. I can’t forgive him for the situation I’ve found myself in. However, I’m fully aware that there’s only me that can make these arrangements, and he’s Jack’s dad if nothing else, so I owe him a reasonable send-off for that alone.

There’s a big question mark whether I’ll even make it to his funeral. Maybe I’ll be locked up? I have heard nothing from the police whether they have paid a visit to either Phillip Bracken or that toerag at the garage, but it’s still early days.

Dad has said yes, subject to Mum’s agreement, to lend me the funeral fees until I get this fiasco sorted. They have a joint account, where both need to approve withdrawals over a thousand pounds, so there’s no getting around her knowing about my situation. I think it’s fifty-fifty whether she’ll agree to it. She’ll either use my situation to dramatically refuse my request for help, or she’ll use it as another bullet to fire back at me in the future. Either way, she’ll enjoy me having to go cap in hand. It’s certainly a first.

Luckily, she was unaware of Rob’s threat to tell Dad of her antics, nor was she aware of how much Rob disliked and disapproved of her. She would definitely say no to the funeral fees if she knew that. She seemed at a loss to understand what he saw in me, other than my former financial situation. I doubt she’ll ever forgive me for my inheritance. It’s her own fault though. She shouldn’t have been such a cow to Grandma.

“Coffee, no sugar.” Emma returns to the room, halting my scattered thought train. She places a cup on the coaster beside me and a plate of biscuits next to it. It’s a strange touch from a funeral director. Who feels like eating biscuits when they’re arranging a funeral?

“Thank you.”

“I’ll start by saying how sorry I am for your loss. It must be a dreadful time for you right now.”

“Thank you. It is.” My eyes fill up. Tears are coming more frequently now. Especially when someone is nice to me. Which, isn’t all that often. I think back to yesterday, to the altercations I had with Phillip Bracken, then the lad at the garage.

“I’ll start by going through your husband’s details and then we’ll go through the arrangements to prepare for his funeral. When are you hoping to hold it?” She reaches into a shelf beneath the desk and pulls out a huge diary.

“As soon as they can.” It’s true. I want to get it over with as fast as possible. The police released his body sooner