‘I’m so sorry. I said to Mum it didn’t seem right. I told her I didn’t like it. She thought I was going to tell someone.’
‘And did you?’
‘No. I had no idea of the enormity, the severity of what she was doing. I was a kid. And anyway, she told me it would stop.’
‘What?And you believed her?’
‘Well, yes. I mean, she did. Stop.’
‘But how did you know she would? What if she’d carried on? Maybe she kept on poisoning me and you didn’t even know?’
‘I’m sure she didn’t. You got better, you stopped going to the doctor’s—’
‘But that’s not the point! I was already damaged. I needed help.’ Ellie was shouting now, crying with despair. ‘I thought I was stupid. That I’d never catch up. I thought I’d get ill again. Ialwaysthought that. Don’t you see? I could’ve been different! If you’d said something!’ She rained her fists down on Abby’s shoulder.
‘Stop it!’ said Abby, trying to simultaneously push Ellie’s hands away and hold on to the steering wheel. ‘I’m sorry!’
Ellie heard the apology but instead of soothing her, it inflamed her further. There was something so inadequate about those words, something that was so disproportionate to the years of misery that she’d suffered. She continued to rain blows down on Abby. ‘You just carried on, looking out for yourself. But what about me? I could’ve beendifferen—’
The noise was like an explosion, the deafening bang of flattened steel. Ellie lunged forward, the seat belt slicing across her shoulder, and her face hit the white pillow with a force that winded her, and then everything was quiet.
She lay there for a moment, gulping for breath, panicking that she couldn’t take in any oxygen; then, as the airbag deflated, her lungs seemed to regain control.
‘Shit!’ said Abby, unbuckling and wrestling with her door.
Ellie looked up and through the broken windscreen saw stones strewn across the bonnet. The car was on the wrong side of the road, a disintegrated wall splattered over it. She extricated herself from her seat, went outside to join Abby. The whole front end on the driver’s side was crunched in, a tangle of steel and exposed innards. The two sisters gazed at it.
‘That looks bad,’ said Ellie.
‘You reckon?’ snapped Abby. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing, attacking me like that?’
‘I’m sorry.’
Abby cut her a fierce look and went back to the car. Ellie watched as her sister brushed the broken glass off the driver’s seat, then got in and attempted to start the engine. It turned over sluggishly, then not at all.
‘Brilliant,’ said Abby, smacking the steering wheel. ‘Just brilliant.’
Ellie walked over and stood next to Abby by the driver’s side. ‘I said I was sorry.’
‘Sorry isn’t going to make this car start!’
‘You’ve cut yourself,’ said Ellie, pointing at her sister’s hand. ‘Here.’ She pulled out a pack of cosmetic wipes from her bag, peeled one off and handed it through the open window to Abby. Abby hesitated, then took it and dabbed at her hand. The cut wasn’t deep and was already clotting.
‘Why do you buy these things when water does just as good a job?’ said Abby, of the wipe.
Ellie bristled; she knew what was coming. ‘Because you never know when you might be in a car crash and a bottle of water isn’t readily available?’
‘It’s another example,’ said Abby, still dabbing, ‘of not being smart with your money.’
For God’s sake!Ellie could feel the irritation rising up in her. Even now, right here, straight after an accident, Abby could put her down. She wrestled to find a comeback, but could think of none.
‘Give it back.’
Abby looked up. ‘What?’
Ellie held out her hand. ‘Give it back.’
‘What, this?’ Abby was waving the soiled wipe in disbelief.
