“Darling.” Dusty gushed, launching herself at me. “You look dreadful.”
“That’s the last thing Molly needs to hear,” Lenny said protectively.
“Well it’s true.”
Lenny flashed an apologetic smile and parked a plastic bag next to the bed. “Your stuff’s all there,” she said. “And I slipped your purse and spare key inside.”
“Can I borrow your phone?” I asked Lenny.
“Sure.”
I phoned Rocco again. Same response: phone switched off.
“Something wrong?” Lenny said.
“It’s nothing.” In reality, it was everything. Dread expanded inside me.
“What’s the news on Zach?”
“It’s a waiting game.”
“Would we be able to see him?”
“I’m sure that would be fine, but what about Mum and Dad? The police don’t seem to be able to locate them.”
Lenny cleared her throat. Dusty walked to the end of the bed and took an avid interest in my chart.
“What?” I said suspiciously.
Dusty exchanged an awkward glance with Lenny. “Now I don’t want you getting all upset.”
I spiked with fresh anxiety. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Dusty looked to Lenny who spoke. “When we went to your house, we found Mr Lee.”
“He’s perfectly fine,” Dusty interrupted, in response to my dismayed expression. “Delighted to see us, in fact.”
“What the hell is he doing at my house?” And then I tumbled to it. “They’ve gone, haven’t they? They’ve scarpered. What a gutless pair of—”
“We went straight to your mum and dad’s,” Dusty explained, “but it’s all shut up.”
Agitated, I pushed back the sheets and swung my legs round.
“Molly,” she said, attempting to placate me, “I understand but—”
“Their son’s life is hanging in the balance. I’ve narrowly escaped death and they’ve fucked off because they can’t bear to face a symphony’s worth of music. How could you possibly understand?” My voice was outrageously loud, a cover for the pure devastation I felt inside. I’d so loved my father. Once, I’d have trusted him with my life. That he’d run out on me was too much to endure.
“Darling,” she said, uncomfortable with my loss of volume control, “You need to rest. There is absolutely no point getting yourself into a state.”
If there is one thing I cannot abide it’s when being upset is somehow the fault of the upsetee rather than the person or set of events responsible. My face must have said it all because Lenny shot Dusty a warning look.
“Molly, I really think Dusty is—”
“I’m sick of everyone having a good view of my rear,” I said indignantly. “The sooner I get some clothes on, the better.”