Dee looked up, startled, eyes still swollen from crying.
‘Molly?’ Shane called after her.
‘I’m going upstairs. Leave me alone. I mean it, Shane. I don’t want to talk to you.’ She turned before either of them could protest. Her footsteps echoed up the staircase, and she didn’t stop until she was in the safe space of her bedroom. Thedoor shut behind her with a thud, the silence that followed was absolute.
She sat on the edge of her bed, hands trembling. The sheets were unmade. The cardigan of her mother’s lay folded on the duvet. Molly was going to wear it but changed her mind, not wanting her own body scent to diminish that of her mother’s.
Everywhere she looked, there was something that belonged to Julia. The pink rose-scented hand cream by the kitchen sink. The silk scarf draped over the coat stand. Her favourite red lipstick in the drawer of the downstairs console table. Even the faint scent of her perfume lingered on cushions, a trace of something warm and familiar, now forever unreachable. Or was that Molly’s imagination, or even a ghost? What she would give to see the spirit of her mum right now because she wouldn’t be scared, she’d run to it and hope its essence would seep into her body and bones and stay there forever.
The sudden ridiculousness of that thought made Molly feel like she was losing her mind. She told herself to think of something else, not herself, because she was disgusting and dirty, soiled and beyond redemption. Think of someone pure. Dee.
Dee had been so quiet. So pliant. It frightened Molly how subdued she had become, as if she were shrinking inwards, like a balloon slowly deflating. She seemed hollowed out. Her voice barely rose above a whisper. She clung to Shane’s presence in a way that made Molly’s stomach twist. She wondered how much of what had happened Dee truly understood. If she suspected.
Her phone rang. Molly jumped. She reached for it instinctively, half hoping, half dreading. The name on the screen made her chest untighten for a second. Phoebe.
She answered. ‘Hello?’
‘Molly? Thank God. I’ve been trying you for hours. I heard. I mean… I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. Shall I come over? What do you need, just say and I’ll do it?’
Molly pressed her fingers to her forehead. ‘Thanks,’ she said quietly trying to work out which question to answer first.
Phoebe rambled on. ‘How are you holding up? Are you eating? Sleeping? Do you want me to send anything?’
‘No. I mean, thank you, but… I need quiet. And don’t worry, I know it’s hard to think of the right thing to say but there’s nothing… it won’t change what’s happened.’
Phoebe was silent for a moment. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘My mum said you’d probably feel like this… shit, sorry, sorry, look, just know I’m here. Really. Are you with anyone? I mean, is he… ishesupporting you through this?’
There was a pause. ‘Shane’s just being Shane.’
‘No, not Shane,’ Phoebe replied gently. ‘I meant the guy you told me about?’
Another long pause while Molly’s cheeks burned with anger at her stupid mistake and her new best friend, shame.
‘I hope he’s being kind,’ Phoebe added, her voice lighter, trying to coax a reaction.
Molly said nothing.
‘Molls? You there?’
‘Yes,’ Molly said. It came out sharper than intended.
‘Sorry, I thought you’d gone.’
‘No, I’m still here but honestly, I don’t want to talk about him or anything right now. I just need to be on my own. I swear I’m not being moody with you.’
Phoebe softened her voice. ‘I get it, I do.’
Molly felt her throat close. ‘I’m going to try and sleep for a while but I’ll be in touch. Oh, and can you tell anyone else who asks to leave me be for now. I’ve had tonnes of messages and not replied but I can’t…’
Phoebe must have heard the crack in her voice and seemed to understand. ‘Okay,’ she said gently. ‘Leave it to me. I’ll spread the word and be your gatekeeper but I’m here if you need to talk. About anything. Or nothing.’
Molly closed her eyes. Tears slipped down her cheeks. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
They stayed on the line for a while, not speaking. The comfort of another person breathing on the other end was enough. But even as the call ended and she lay back on the bed, Molly knew nothing would feel normal again. Not for a long time. And maybe, not ever. Her mother was gone.
She reached for the cardigan, pressing it against her chest, as though somehow she could pull Julia back with it. The bitterness at it all lodged in her throat and burned. She hated how helpless she felt. How responsible. The reality of what she’d done didn’t come in a blinding flash of clarity. It had been creeping up on her since she’d heard those words on the phone. She’d thought she could get clean away with it. Have her fun, excitement and thrills then simply flick a switch and walk away when there was no need of it anymore. Saunter off to start a new life like it had never happened. How pathetic and naïve was that?
A low rage began to simmer beneath the grief and contempt. A silent scream gaining momentum beneath her ribs that threatened to erupt at any second. The guilt was suffocating.
