Free Death Wish (The Ceruleans: Book 1) by Megan Tayte

voicemails and texts of the last week, I could just imagine how many
‘Darling, how are you?’ emails awaited me. Seventeen, as it turned out. Some
bright and cheery and two lines long; some long and anguished. Sighing, I
pulled them into the ‘Mother’ folder and scanned the rest of the contents of
the inbox:
    From: [email protected]; Subject: Enlarge your
Penis 2day with Vi@gra
    From: [email protected]; Subject: Oops, just
realised I’ve got your Tudors DVDs still…
    From: [email protected]; Subject: Hello. Needin
money for militry takeover. This is nott a scam.
    From: [email protected]; Subject: Please leave feedback
for item 537543291: Child’s Surfboard, Floral
    From: [email protected]; Subject: Sienna…
    Katie had been Sienna’s best friend at their school,
Willake. I could never stand the girl – she’d come home with Sienna on the odd
weekend and I’d found her whiny and needy – but she and Sienna had been thick
as thieves. Katie had been adamant that she’d known nothing about Sienna’s
plans to run away, and hadn’t heard from her afterwards. I’d never been
convinced. I opened her email at once.
    Hi Scarlett.
    How R U? Good, I hope.
    Got ur message bout meetin up. Am around start of Aug.
When’s gd 4 U?
    Let me know.
    Katie x
    Good to see Ma and Pa Trent’s money hadn’t been wasted on
their daughter’s education, I thought; what a way with words Katie had. Then I
caught myself. Be nice. Sienna had obviously seen something in Katie to be
friends with her, and the girl had made the effort not only to respond to my
email asking that we chat but also to agree to the meeting.
    I dashed off a quick email setting a date for a coffee. I
didn’t reply to Mother’s messages; I couldn’t face it. But I did break out the
vast bar of chocolate she’d sent, curled up on the sofa that evening, watching The
Tudors . I allowed myself one square of chocolate every time Henry VIII got
amorous. By bedtime, the DVD was finished. So was the chocolate.
    *
    The next day Chester was ecstatic to see me, and he conveyed
his delight with a flying tackle leading into a pouncing and wriggling frenzy.
I figured the easiest way forward was to remain in place, lying on the floor of
Bert’s sitting room, and let the dog have his moment, but when the face licking
started I decided enough was enough.
    ‘Chester, off!’ I commanded.
    He whined but sat back on his haunches.
    ‘Look at that!’ exclaimed Bert from the armchair by the
fire. ‘He knows who’s boss. Good dog!’
    It was more a case of good Scarlett for showing up with
chocolate buttons and making sure Chester saw them in my pocket, but I said
nothing, only pulled myself up to sit on the sofa. Chester came over at once
and laid his chin on my lap.
    ‘The fun you’ll have today, eh?’ said the old man. He was
looking tired, I noticed, and his breathing seemed more laboured than last
week.
    ‘How are you, Bert?’ I asked.
    ‘Oh fine, fine,’ he said. ‘Life in the old dog yet. Though
you try telling that to the docs at that hospital there. Fine lot of
doom-and-gloomers they are. It’s all about attitude, you know. Heart could give
out any time – and it will someday, I know. But in the meantime, life’s for
living, eh? Only wish I could still get out with Chester like I used to…’
    I liked Bert. I admired his spirit and I hoped I’d be that
brave, when the time came.
    ‘Well, I’ll have Chester back to you for three-ish.’
    ‘What’s the plan today?’
    ‘I thought we’d try the coastal path for a stretch. A long
walk ought to wear him out.’ And me, I added silently.
    ‘So long as it’s a walk, love, not a sprint. You’re a wee
slip of a thing…’
    I stared at him. I hadn’t told him about the Chester chase
incident. How did he know?
    He winked. ‘That Cara pops in once a week, you know, on a
Sunday. Brings me the papers and a plate of roast. I heard the whole story.’
    Thanks, Cara, I