Free The Fall by Claire McGowan Page B

wavered.
    ‘But we saw it, didn’t we, Phil – right there on the lunchtime news! And a picture of him! Where in the world did they get it from? Did you give them that?’
    ‘For God’s sake, Mum, I didn’t even see it. I’ve been waiting in Casualty all day.’
    ‘It’s the cuts, isn’t it,’ said Phil, rummaging in her cupboards.
    Gail fretted at the hankie she was holding. ‘I just didn’t know what to do. We’ll have to get in the car, I said, didn’t I, Phil? I didn’t even put the video on for Holby City .’
    ‘Any milk, love?’ Phil was still pottering.
    ‘Oh – no. I didn’t exactly get time to go shopping.’ She bit her lip, wincing at the pain.
    ‘There’s no milk, Gail. Would you take it without milk? Have you a shop nearby?’
    Charlotte nearly screamed at him. What good was tea at a time like this? But Phil was already getting back into his beige jacket. ‘Think I saw a foreign shop round the corner. Always open, aren’t they?’
    When he left, the silence settled round Charlotte and her mother like a heavy cloak. The clock ticked. Gail sniffed and looked about her, bewildered. ‘I was supposed to be seeing the florist tomorrow. What’ll I do? Will we have to postpone it? Charlotte?’
    Charlotte gazed at her immaculate nails, buffed and shaped to perfection, ready for what she had thought would be the best day of her life. ‘They said there won’t be a trial for months.’
    Her mother stared at her. ‘We’ll have to postpone it then. Good God, and I just put down the deposit on the cake. And what about that band he insisted on?’
    Charlotte flared up. ‘You can say his name, you know. Dan . Remember? He’s the one who fixes your computer for you. Walks your bloody dog. Do you really think he would just kill someone? Wise up.’
    ‘I don’t like your tone, Charlotte. They’ve charged him, haven’t they? You never know, do you?’
    ‘You do sometimes.’ No one was going to convince her that she was engaged to a killer. It just wasn’t possible.
    The door opened and they both jumped. Phil came rustling in with a bulging carrier bag. ‘Did you see that scrum outside?’
    Gail was peering out of the window. ‘Darling, he’s right. There are press out there.’
    ‘What? Don’t be silly.’ But Charlotte looked out and saw three people gathered at her gate, a man with a camera and one with a sound mike, and a woman with a microphone. Sky News , it said. She turned back, thinking, This isn’t happening . It was as if her life had turned into a film.
    ‘Very rude of them,’ said Gail crossly. ‘What if someone’s having renovations done and the house doesn’t look its best?’
    Phil was opening cupboards as if he owned the place. ‘Got a few bits,’ he said placidly. ‘Your mam and I like Bran Flakes in the morning. Keeps us regular.’
    From this charming piece of information, Charlotte gathered that they were planning to stay with her for some time.
Keisha
    This was it, then. When it all cracked off in your hands, like some crappy old saucepan you thought you’d get one more use out of, but really you knew it was just a matter of time before it all fell to bits. And now it had. In one day she’d gone from patching things up with Chris, maybe getting Ruby back soon, to not knowing who he was at all. A man who’d do what he did to his own baby. A man who’d knock his girlfriend out in her own poky kitchen.
    She’d woken up on the floor when the door slammed. At first Keisha felt like she was on a roller coaster, going so fast her feelings were a few seconds behind. For a moment it was like floating, weightless. Then it was coming, it was coming – oh, the fucking pain. The head. The ankle. He’d fucking stomped on her leg – she could see the imprint of his shoe on the unshaven skin. Her nose was pressed to the floor, beside a spaghetti hoop. It was fucking filthy, this kitchen. You would think it’d have been dirtier when Ruby was there, but Keisha had