Page 73 of No Safe Place

Saturday | Evening

Lily

Visiting hours ended at four, but Lily wasn’t ready to go home. Not to Scott’s.

She’d walked through the park for a while, her thoughts swimming. When she felt too tired to keep going, she sat down on a bench.

Lily hadn’t told Cal what Scott had done.

In her imagination, Callum would have demanded to be discharged early, and stormed from the hospital without even bothering to change clothes. She’d be following him, pleading with him – but he’d ignore her. Then a fist, slamming into Scott’s door, and Callum would have him up against a wall.

Instead, they made small talk, and told stories about Sam.

On the ward, Sam was always the mischievous one. It was like she couldn’t help it; she just itched to do the one thing that wasn’t allowed.

She had a game in group therapy, where she would earnestly deliver lines from the previous night’s rerun of The Simpsons as though they were deeply profound.

Per Sam’s own rules, she got double points for Homer, triple for Mr Burns.

After a week, David was so confused, he was proposing a review of her medication.

Sam doodled on her slip-on shoes. Dyed her hair fun colours. Bribed the nurses to bring in contraband Red Bull.

There was no doubt that Andy was the smartest when it came to maths and science, but Sam ran rings round them at other subjects. Her recall for dates and historical events was insane.

They did a lot of weird shit to pass the time.

Paige used to love testing Sam on the dates of the Shakespeare plays, which she learned one weekend when she was bored. To help Paige prepare for her future career-defining turn as Ophelia, Sam learned all of Hamlet’s lines.

By the time they were discharged, Callum was cast as Claudius and Lily was Gertrude. Sam also memorised Laertes and the Ghost. On a good day, David could even be persuaded to read Polonius.

The sun had finally set, and for the first time in weeks, there was a slight breeze.

Lily had goose bumps on her arms. The park had emptied out quickly once the sun went down. In her hurry, Lily came out of the wrong entrance – God knows how far from the bus stop that would take her back to Scott’s.

Her phone was dead. She had no Google Maps, no Uber.

Footsteps came up behind her. Lily glanced round, but there was no one there.

You’re being paranoid.

She looked back over her shoulder. Maybe she should cut through the park – she’d be back at the bus stop in ten minutes, rather than thirty.

Apart from a few biscuits with a cup of tea, it had been a full twenty-four hours since she’d eaten, and that had all been thrown up in the night. She was exhausted and emotionally wrung out, and even if it meant getting back to Scott’s and having to face him faster – at least she could rest.

She heard the sound again, and felt a little prickle of fear at the back of her neck.

A few seconds later, a whistling man appeared from behind her with an excitable beagle on a lead. He smiled and nodded, and was off down the road.

She was being paranoid.

Lily mentally shook herself, and set off on the long way round, down the lit street.