Free 13 Minutes by Sarah Pinborough Page A

it will be all my fault, just a stupid accident.’
    She sipped her tea. From upstairs in the attic studio came the sound of guitar-playing. Aiden couldn’t have closed the door properly.
    Biscuit, hearing the noise and always looking for distraction, padded out of the room.
    ‘So much for my charm,’ Natasha said.
    ‘He likes it in the studio. It’s always warmest up there in the evening.’
    ‘You work at night?’ Natasha’s eyes widened momentarily. ‘Till late?’
    ‘Sometimes. When I’m in the middle of a project.’
    She looked stunned. ‘Wow. How come you always walk your dog so early, then? Is it before you go to bed?’
    ‘Occasionally yes, but I’ve never been a great sleeper. I don’t normally sleep more than four hours. And I find it’s good to tire Biscuit out early because otherwise he drives me crazy.’
    ‘I’m not sleeping so brilliantly, either,’ she said, softly, a small cloud on the perfection of her youth, but it lifted, her thoughts returning to the dog. ‘He’s so sweet, though.’ She waggled a finger at Jamie. ‘But don’t let him hide his collar again! A girl’s life might depend on it.’
    Jamie laughed with her, glad she could make fun of it. It lightened his irrational guilt. She was fine. It had all turned out okay. Natasha got to her feet and her mother followed suit.
    ‘Well, we should leave you to it, but I just wanted to put your mind at rest about the photo thing the paper wanted to do? I’ve said no. I know you’re a private person – the papers have harped on about that – and to be honest, I just want to go back to school and get life back to normal. I bet you do, too.’
    Jamie couldn’t help feeling a wave of relief. ‘Yes. I’d have done it if you asked, but it’s not really my thing. If I wanted attention I’d be in a band, not working on soundtracks.’
    ‘I figured.’ She reached up on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his cheek. ‘Thank you again.’
    He saw them out, Biscuit darting around his feet, having flown down the stairs when he heard them moving, and then, leaving the tray where it was, took his tea up to the studio.
    ‘They gone?’ Aiden asked.
    He nodded.
    ‘She seems like a nice kid.’
    Aiden shrugged. ‘Yeah, she probably does.’
    Jamie almost asked what he meant, but left it alone when he saw that Aiden’s face had dropped, hidden behind his hair. Sometimes Jamie forgot that Aiden wasn’t long out of school himself. The same school Natasha went to. Maybe they had some history. It wasn’t his business to pry, though. Instead, he sat at the desk and studied the various computer screens. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Let’s get this into the mix. And close that door. I could hear you downstairs.’
    Biscuit whirled in and thumped into his basket, the door closed and, unheard by the outside world, Aiden started to play.

 
     
     
    Fourteen
    Becca really hadn’t known how to feel about the chess set. The way her mum’s eyes sparkled when she handed it over made her instantly want to hate it. It was as if her mum was saying, Look! Look! You can be a Barbie, too, if you just make yourself prettier. You could be the daughter I’ve always wanted. You could be the girl they fish out of the river rather than one on the sidelines.
    But it was beautiful, each piece so delicately carved and yet solid in her hand. She liked the size and weight of them. At school they’d always played with small sets and somehow they never felt right to Becca. Each move in chess was important. These pieces reflected that.
    ‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’ her dad said as they set the board up on a small coffee table. She had to agree. They were.
    There was a fizz in the pit of her stomach and she realised, partly in horror, that what she felt was excitement. Maybe Natasha was going to be her friend again. Maybe they’d play chess in the long winter nights like they used to, cross-legged on the floor and munching junk food. It was a stupid thought.