56

Louie

Morecambe felt different somehow, but in a good way. She was bringing Karin home, restoring the natural order of things.

It already felt perfect.

Karin’s phone started to ring. It sounded muffled because it was in the storage box under Louie’s arm where she had confiscated it.

‘Home sweet home,’ said Louie, pulling on the handbrake outside their bedsit off Albert Road. ‘You might find it untidier than when you left, I’m afraid. We’ll soon get it back to how it was.’

‘Lou, please. I need to be in Leeds. I have to speak to the policewoman who’s dealing with Will’s case.’

‘Don’t waste your life going to jail for that lot. They were complete shits, and that’s including your stepdad. Your place is here with me.’

‘Will wasn’t a complete shit. He was my friend.’

‘I’ve got an offer of an exhibition in Manchester. Good news, hey?’

Give her time. It’s a lot to take in.

She flipped up the armrest and took out Karin’s phone. One missed call from the charity that she worked for. ‘Tell them you won’t be in today,’ said Louie, handing it back to her. ‘And don’t say anything stupid.’

Louie had been looking forward to this moment for such a long time, picturing them racing upstairs hand-in-hand, both of them yearning to get inside so they could just tumble into bed together.

Not like this.

Not with Karin dragging herself up three flights of stairs, saying how much she didn’t want to be in Morecambe. That she would rather be in a prison cell because that was where she belonged.

Was it really going to end here?