I went to my bedroom. Mum followed, and we sat side by side on my bed. Mum put her arm round my shoulder, but she didn’t speak. She was trembling.
I could rely on Mum for everything: she was fierce. She had defended me my whole life. So why, now, was she shaking violently and then tensing to try to stop it? Why had she thrown up? She gripped me so hard that it hurt, and I tried to pull away.
‘You have no idea,’ she said, ‘what you’ve done.’
‘No, I don’t! What are you on about? How could I have any idea?’ I paused. ‘Is this to do with Rachel Thomas?’
‘No! Why on earth do you think you know anything about Rachel?’ She took a jerky breath. ‘Have they got hold of Felicity?’
‘Clem says she’s going mad. And flying back.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘Good. Yes. We need Felicity. And Alex too. Is Alex coming?’
This was the first time I’d ever heard her mention Clem’s uncle.
We sat in silence. Mum was rocking back and forth, and her breathing was ragged. I didn’t know what to say. I walked over to the window and looked towards the camellia bushes. I couldn’t see them from here, but I could see police tape strung up between two trees, shutting off the whole of that side of the garden. It was early on Sunday morning, and I guessed they were waiting for reinforcements.
‘Why, though? Why did you have to say that about Rachel?’ said Mum in a tight voice. ‘Now they’re going to dig it all up and do forensic testing, aren’t they?’
‘Isn’t that good?’ I didn’t understand.
‘We could go away,’ she said, standing up. ‘But we couldn’t, could we? You can’t just disappear these days. They find you. You could live with your dad.’
‘Mum?’
‘Oh, don’t worry. Just …’ Her voice trailed off.
‘Mum.’ I said it louder this time. I heard an authority in my voice that I’d never had before. ‘Mum, what’s happening? Why are you being like this? Why are you saying mad things? You’re really, really scaring me.’
She didn’t react. I had no idea why she was being so scary. After a while, I wanted to talk because I hated this spiky silence.
‘Did you know Martha came here as an evacuee?’ Mum nodded, but she didn’t look at me.
I’d only known Martha as an old lady. She had been seventy-six when I was born. I knew she’d lived an unimaginably difficult life, but at the same time I had no idea about the details of it; I just remembered all the things she had shared with me. Chicory coffee, the first sight of a cow, Aubrey and his ‘shell shock’. Her little coat and gas mask.
It was light outside, the sky pale blue, everything new and beautiful, washed clean by the rain, but the room was stuffy. There wasn’t enough air. I still felt drunk. It was morning, and I hadn’t slept. I sat on the bed. I was scared Mum was going to run away, but she sat down too.
‘I guess they’ll be able to check how old they are,’ said Mum. ‘Don’t you think? The bones.’
‘I guess.’
‘Would they even have Rachel’s DNA?’
‘They’d have Lucy’s.’
Mum nodded. ‘You’re right. Of course.’
‘Mum? Were you friends with Rachel too? I mean, I know she was friends with Felicity.’
Mum gave a tiny nod. She looked grey. ‘Do you have a number for Alex?’
‘Of course I don’t. Get his number from Clem maybe? Mum, were you friends with Felicity and Alex and Rachel? What happened?’
She stood up. ‘I used to be,’ she said. ‘Darling, sorry. You need to get some sleep. I’m going to go and find Clem, to get that phone number. You have a rest.’
I didn’t want to let her go, but all the same I felt sleep pulling me down. She sat next to me and stroked my hair. I had meant to change out of this dress, but I hadn’t done it. Her hand was comforting on my head. I felt myself sinking. The skull. Rachel. Martha. The police. It swirled round my head.