Page 37

Adam

‘We should go back for the cake tin,’ Wren mutters unhappily from the back seat of the car. ‘We have enough time.’

‘No, we don’t. We were late leaving.’

That’s the understatement of the year. I slept through the alarm after working on my dissertation until the early hours. I had to throw our stuff in a suitcase and hope for the best.

‘Don’t worry! Mum probably has tins.’

Does she? She didn’t bake much when I was growing up, but that’s hardly surprising when she worked full-time as a solicitor.

‘It was a present from Sophie. But you forget everything!’

I drum my fingers on the steering wheel.

Unfortunately, this is true. I suddenly realise I haven’t packed Wren’s swimsuit or hairbrush.

I’ll secretly add those to the shopping list when we reach Plymouth.

Sophie messaged yesterday, suggesting we meet in the city centre for lunch instead of in Modbury as planned, as she has an errand to run.

‘ And you said we could bake together last night,’ Wren continues hotly.

‘I didn’t forget... I was snowed under with work, sorry. I wanted to get as much done as possible so we can have days out next week. We have been sewing though.’

Aagh. I’ve forgotten to pack our pin cushion, but Sophie probably has a spare. I could buy another in the shopping centre, as well as an umbrella. The rain is picking up and it’s reminded me I’ve left ours by the front door, along with Wren’s wellies.

‘Hmmm.’

‘Is that a hmmm I’m forgiven or a hmmm you’re still cross with me?’ I ask.

My gaze flickers back to my mirror. Wren folds her arms, scowling.

‘I’ll make it up to you while we’re at Mum’s. We’ll go to the beach and build sandcastles, whatever the weather.’

‘Do you promise, Adam ?’

‘I poppety-pop promise.’

Wren’s lips finally break into a smile. ‘ Pop, pop, pop .’

Popping has become our ‘thing’ now. I laugh and look straight ahead – the traffic has stopped. I slam on my brakes. We’re thrown forward, our seat belts straining, and skid to a halt, narrowly missing the stationary Land Rover in front.

I almost went into the back of it!

The thought barely registers when a horn blares loudly behind us. My gaze fixes on the wing mirror, horror mounting, as a lorry rumbles towards us at speed.

It’s not going to brake in time.

‘Jesus Christ!’ I shout.

Wren lets out a high-pitched scream. At the last moment the juggernaut swerves into the middle lane. Our car shakes from the vibration. I flick on my hazard lights, gripping the wheel tightly as the vehicles behind slow.

‘Are you all right?’ I yank at my seat belt and turn around.

Wren is speechless, rigid with terror. I unclip my belt and reach through the gap, taking her hand. It feels small and clammy in mine. My heart pinches and I repeat the words that Sophie used to say to me.

‘You are safe. This will pass. Take it one moment at a time.’

She squeezes my fingers.

‘I’m here and so is Panda.’ I nudge her toy closer, and she rests her head on the furry animal, not letting go of my hand. I’m in an awkward position and my neck’s getting a crick, but I don’t care. I’ll stay like this for hours if it makes her feel better.

‘My teacher says you shouldn’t use “Jesus Christ” as a swear word,’ she says eventually in a small voice. ‘It’s rude.’

‘I’m sorry. It slipped out.’

Talking of which, I might have wet myself a little. One minute I was laughing with my daughter, and the next we were almost flattened by a truck.

‘Mummy was ruder than you in the car,’ Wren admits. ‘She said “fucking hell” a lot when she was driving.’

I laugh under my breath, feeling the tension melt from my shoulders.

‘You mustn’t use those words... But your mum did swear like a trooper! Did you know that when she was a child, her parents made her put money in a swear box? She said it broke from the weight of the coins!’

‘No!’

‘That’s true. I poppety-pop promise.’

Wren snorts with laughter. ‘She never told me that. Naughty Mummy.’

She fumbles in her rucksack, pulling out her unicorn toy and a shiny object, which is partially hidden by her hoodie. I squint harder. It’s her mum’s urn. I had no idea she’d packed it. Wren catches me staring in the mirror.

‘I didn’t want to leave Mummy behind. She’d be lonely. She enjoyed the zoo and wanted to come to Grandma’s.’

‘Erm, good idea!’

‘She says she’s glad we’re both safe.’

Wren kisses the metal container and puts it back in her bag as rain patters loudly on the windscreen.

Is this a good time to bring up scattering her mum’s ashes on a beach?

And how it might not be the best idea during a storm?

Or will it upset her? Hmmm. I’ll leave it and wait to check the long-term weather forecast.

‘I don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here... It must be a bad crash for all three lanes to be out of action.’

‘Are people hurt?’

‘Erm, I don’t know. Possibly.’

‘Should we check? Mummy said you should try to help people whenever you can.’

Through the blurry glass, I notice car doors opening.

‘Stay here with Panda. I’ll have a quick look.’

Rain slashes my face as I climb out. I hear the faint whine of an emergency vehicle further down the motorway. A few motorists are standing in between the stationary traffic.

A man suddenly lets out a cry and runs towards an unknown horror.

I smell burning tyres.

A terrible memory flickers and ignites deep inside my mind.