Page 91 of Indie
“Ok.”
“Also. Ste died a few days ago.”
Silence.
“Shit, cuz. I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “Anything I can do?”
“No. But if you’re here on business, you can stay for the funeral. If you want to.”
“That depends whether the Kings will come after me once it’s over.”
“Assuming I stand for president, then no.”
“And why would you not?”
“I’m not sure this life’s for me anymore.”
“Well, when you’ve decided, you can tell me whether I can attend at the graveside or in the shadows. Call me in three days. I’ll be needing some intelligence on that mark.”
The phone call cut off.
Chapter Forty One
I breathed carefully, packing clothes into a holdall and stuffing the well-read magazines in with them. My left-hand side ached, even with a cocktail of painkillers and my face was only just going down, but I still couldn’t properly open my left eye.
“Hi, Emmie,” The voice was unfamiliar, well rounded, but made me jump all the same. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” The woman at the door held her hand towards me, taking it away again when I continued to stare at her with one eye. “I’m one of the senior management team here. I just wanted you toknow that the enquiry into your misuse of a pass has been stood down. We understand you had a break-in that night in question. I have your police crime number.”
“I…I don’t have a crime number. I didn’t report it.”
She frowned. “Strange. The police themselves gave it to us.”
“So, does that mean I’m no longer suspended?”
“Yes. You’re completely cleared. I understand you’ll be on sick leave. But when you’re ready to come back, we’re ready to have you.”
I turned away from her again, finishing stuffing clothes into the bag. Behind me was a shriek. A beautiful light squeal of delight. The little girl rushed at me, and I braced myself for the pain she was about to inflict when she bowled straight into me. But she stopped just in front of me, carefully walking the last few steps and tentatively wrapping her arms round my legs.
“Mammy! I missed you.”
“You only saw me yesterday.”
“I know, but now you’re coming home. And I get to cuddle on the sofa with you.”
I smiled weakly, the thought of going back to the house sitting heavily in my stomach.
Indie and Luke brought up the rear a few strides behind, lightly arguing over some new computer game they’d been playing and who was better at it.
“Ready to go home?” Indie asked.
“Yeah.”
But I wasn’t ready. Not to go back there. To the house that held such beatings. Where he would find me again. I cradled my side at the throb that wouldn’t go away, despite the painkillers I’d slugged back.
Indie’s van was filled with the excited chatter of the kids’ voices. Lily had scored ten out of ten with her spellings, she told me. And Luke still babbled over whatever level he’d just cracked on the latest game that probably involved shooting something. Their voices faded in the background. White noise. Pushed away by the panic rising in my chest each mile we crept closer to home. My hands clutched the handle, my fingers squeezing the hard plastic.
Eventually, the van pulled into the street, slowing to a stop at the garden gate. I looked at the house and then at the handle I was holding, then watched the kids bicker in the crew seats behind us. Indie’s fingers touched the back of my hand, sliding slowly over me, squeezing my fingers until I couldn’t pick at the loose thread on my jeans anymore.
Then he started the van again, pulling away from the curb. I glanced across at him, not understanding, unable to ask the question. He patted my leg and smiled gently.