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Adrienne
‘Stop!’ I scream, launching myself forward.
‘What?’ Matt uses the knife in his hands to slice through the bandage I’d tied round Mariam’s ankle, which is now in tatters. ‘This is crap. She needs to keep it as compressed as possible.’
‘Oh God – I, I saw the knife and …’
He frowns, folding the blade into its handle and tucking it back into his backpack. He pulls a roll of bandage from his pocket and rewraps Mariam’s ankle with care.
The wind howls through the open roof and I cover my face for a moment to protect it from the blast of sand. When it dies down, I rush to Mariam’s side. She’s staring at Matt, her eyes watery with pain. I wish I had something stronger to give her.
‘I know you,’ Mariam says to him.
‘Yeah. I’m the one Boones promoted. Some promotion, right? Now I’m stuck here in the middle of a storm.’
Mariam shakes her head. ‘No. I know you. You … I thought you were in prison.’
Matt’s face drains of colour and he snaps his hands away from her ankle as if burned.
‘Prison?’ I stare at him.
He doesn’t deny it, but calmly packs away his things. Then he shifts so he’s sitting next to Mariam, leaning backagainst the stone wall and closing his eyes. Now the edginess I felt is back with a vengeance. I subtly move my body so my hand is on my backpack. It’s up to me to keep us safe.
‘You don’t recognize me, do you?’ he asks me, opening his eyes again.
‘Should I?’ I gaze at his face. That’s when it hits me. It’s not just the way he runs that is familiar. There’s something about his mannerisms and in the amber flecks of his brown eyes, almost a reflection of the desert outside. I’ve only known one person with eyes like that. ‘It’s not possible,’ I whisper. ‘Coach Glenn?’
‘It’s his son,’ says Mariam.
‘In the flesh,’ he says.
‘But …’
‘But he never told you he had a son? I know. His runners were his children. Forget about the real family he abandoned.’
I still can’t believe it. ‘So why were you in prison?’ I ask, wondering if I even want to know the answer.
He closes his eyes. ‘I killed someone.’
I swallow. The casual way he says it sends a shudder down my spine. I’ve never felt so small.
Matt sees the fear in my eyes and sighs. ‘You know what my mama said when your social media post came out? “Finally.”Finally.As if she had expected it. But my dad was my hero. I couldn’t believe it. So when the Spanish police let him go with no charges, I felt vindicated. You had lied. Mama flew into a rage. She couldn’t believe he’d got away with it again, and she wouldn’t listen to me when I said that the police had no proof. Innocent untilproven guilty, right? I couldn’t stay in the house with her. I flew back to the UK to be with my dad. I had to tell him I believed him. Except when I showed up at his house, he was already dead. I went out of my mind. I blamed you. I knew you were running in that local race, so I went to the finishing line. I shouted at you. I wanted to hurt you.’
‘I heard,’ I say, my mouth dry. The anger in his voice is still there, seven years later. ‘So then you panicked and stole some guy’s car and –’
‘Then I went to the pub. Got absolutely bladdered, got aggy with the wrong crowd, punched a guy. Guess I hit him in the wrong place, because he died. One wrong punch and that was it. Got fourteen years for manslaughter.’
Every muscle in my body is still. He’s still got the knife in his hand. He’s playing with it, opening and closing the blade, like a nervous twitch. I tighten my grip on my backpack.
‘Fourteen years. You should still be inside. How did you get out?’ Mariam’s breathing is heavy, laboured, her voice raspy.
‘I served half my sentence, then was released on licence. Broke the conditions by coming to Morocco, of course, and I had to ask some dodgy people for help getting here. But I had to come. God, Dad was obsessed with these races, wasn’t he? I mean, you know better than me.’
‘I guess …’
‘He always wanted to coach a winner. You were supposed to be it, Adri. He loved you far more than me.’
I glance down at my watch. We activated Mariam’s beacon over an hour ago. It can’t be much longer untilhelp arrives. Even with the storm. I need to keep him talking. ‘That can’t be true.’