I pull out my phone and call the number, hoping she’ll pick up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mum, it’s me.”
“Oh. I didn’t expect another call.” Her voice shifts in recognition. “At least not so soon.”
I look around the ornate summer house in the far corner of the garden I've got to, berating myself for the frustration that instantly rises at her tone. “I said I would. Have you got the food deliveries?” I take a seat on a pristine looking bench.
“That was you?” The shock in her voice is painful, but I suppose I deserve it.
“Yes, Mum. I want to make sure you’re taken care of. I meant what I said.”
“Aren’t you already back off somewhere, following the next story, or war?”
“Not this time.”
She doesn’t answer, and I have to hope she finally realises that things aren’t going to be the same from now on. Assuming there aren’t any further hostage situations that threaten my life.
Admitting my feelings for Ivy, there’s no way I’ll just give up a chance of happiness with her. Not now. It's time to stop running.
“Mum,” I prompt, worried she’s been quiet for a long time.
“Thank you for the groceries.” There’s no scorn or annoyance in her voice for once, and I hold onto the little step of progress.
“You’re welcome. Maybe I can come and visit again soon. And bring somebody to see you?”
“If you want.”
“I mean it, Mum. I’m not going to vanish again.”
“We’ll see.” She hangs up.
If being at Earlwood has shown me anything these last few hours, it's that family relationships are complicated, but at the end of the day, they are your blood. Perhaps my own isn’t so badly broken that a little hard work won’t fix it?
“Blake?” I look up at Landon and put my phone away. “There’s just some final points to clarify after Ivy’s interview.”
“Great.” I can’t keep the sarcasm from my voice as I stand and follow Landon back.
It takes a while to reach the house. I didn’t realise how far I’d wandered out here. No conversation interrupts the walk, and I finally see something worth being here for as we approach the library. Landon goes to open the door and usher me inside to face DCI Jenkins again.
Ivy looks between the two of us, and she’s quick to shout at Landon. “More questions?”
“Not now, Ivy,” he replies.
“It’s a formality,” I add, hoping it is.
“Fine. I’ve got to speak to Father-dearest, anyway.” She switches her gaze to me, smiling. “But then I’ll be in our bedroom when you’re done. Come and find me?”
“Always.” I lean in to kiss her head, wanting to get this over with. “But your father's gone, and I should warn you, he might not be in the best of moods when he eventually gets back.”
“He has? Arsehole. What did you do?”
“Nothing. I promise.” I wink at her and follow Landon into the room.
DCI Jenkins is sitting over the papers and photographs scattered over the small coffee table in front of him. His mouth is all puckered, as if he’s looking for something he can’t find. He gave me a similar look when our interview didn’t follow the road map I’m sure he had in his mind.
All in all, I said little more in my interview than I already recounted at the scene, and Landon saw to the fact that I wouldn’t be pushed further. He re-emphasised that I wasn’t under arrest and was here willing to help.
