I felt like I was being shaken from the inside. I wanted to run, to get as far away from the flowers, the McKennas and this conversation as possible. I spotted a car driving down the road that made my heart jump.
“Taxi!” I shouted, and waved it down. “Taxi!”
The car pulled up right next to me, and I clumsily climbed inside, pulling my crutches with me. Mr McKenna was trying to keep me from closing the door as I was talking to the driver, telling him where I wanted to go.
“West Norwood Cemetery,” I demanded. “As fast as you can.”
“Noah, honey, don’t do this alone. Please, sweetheart.”
I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“Elliot!” I heard Mrs McKenna cry as she fumbled putting her phone to her ear. “Oh, Elliot. Noah knows . . . she knows about Bailey! Please, come! Oh, Elliot. Please.”
I pulled the door shut and locked it as the car pulled away from the kerb. The driver didn’t say anything to me, but I saw him glance back repeatedly in the rear-view mirror. I didn’t realise I was breathing heavily until then. My hands were shaking, and I felt like I was going to be sick.
Row twenty-three, ninth plot from the left.
I could barely form a coherent thought. All I knew was that I had to get to the cemetery and prove to myself that this was all wrong. Bailey was okay, she was. I physically couldn’t believe she wasn’t – my body, and mind, refused to do so. My head throbbed and it was a fight to keep my eyes open, but I somehow managed it. Quicker than I expected, we came to a stop.
“West Norwood Cemetery,” the driver said with a heavy accent as my phone rang. “That’ll be six pounds and seven pence . . . Miss, are you okay?”
Without answering, I pushed a twenty-pound note blindly at the driver and all but fell out of the car. He didn’t call after me; he barely waited more than a couple of seconds before he drove off. I didn’t look at him go; I was too busy glancing around. The cemetery was huge – there were over forty thousand graves in the place. I thought of what Mrs McKenna had said – she’d mentioned the lawn cemetery, and I knew that was the modern section away from the historic sections and the catacombs.
I followed the signs, and numbly made my way to where I needed to go.
As fast as I could, I hobbled through the cemetery and ignored the pain in my leg. Mrs McKenna’s directions were forgotten in my panic and I lost count of the rows. I looked from left to right, looked for graves that had freshly upturned dirt, indicating recent burial. I saw three, and the first two I checked were for men I had never heard of. As I approached the third, I spotted a bunch of pink lilies sitting prettily in front of one of the small wooden crosses that every grave had until a tombstone was made and installed.
“No,” I said out loud.
I dug out my phone again, rejecting Elliot’s call, and tried to ring Bailey again. It went straight to her voicemail once more, and I felt myself choking on air.
“Phone me back, Bailey!” I demanded angrily. “Right when you get this message, you call me straight away. No messing around! Baby, please. Please, phone me back.”
I tried to put my phone back in my pocket, but I fumbled with it and it fell to the ground. I didn’t look at it or attempt to pick it up. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the pink lilies. They were Bailey’s favourite flowers. I was too scared to walk forward so I could read the name on the golden plaque on the cross, in case it was her name printed on it.
“Please be okay, Bails,” I said, finally shuffling forward one step at a time. “Please, please, please.”
I kept my eyes on the lilies for ages, so long that I heard my name being shouted from a distance. The touch of a cool breeze startled me into reacting. I looked up in that moment and the second I read the name and date of birth on the plaque, I dropped to the ground and screamed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
NOAH
“Noah!”
I could barely hear his voice over my cries.
“No!” I fought against the arms that suddenly surrounded me. “No! Let me go! Let me go!”
The arms around me tightened as I screamed in emotional pain. My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest and torn apart in front of my very eyes.
“Not Bailey,” I sobbed, my fingers digging into the dirt. “Please, not my Bailey.”
I heard Elliot’s choked intake of breath as he pressed his face against the back of my head. I cried until my throat went raw with pain and until no more tears fell from my eyes. I had stopped struggling against Elliot, because I could no longer move. I felt numb to everything except the pain in my heart.
“No! Please!” I pleaded. “This isn’t real! It’s not! It’s not!”
“I’m sorry,” he said against my ear. “I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t know what he was apologising for. I couldn’t think.
“I can’t breathe.”
Elliot pulled me to my feet and looked at me. His eyes were glazed over with tears, but none fell. I stared up at him as my body trembled with fear, pain and heartache.
“Focus on me,” he said, placing his hands on either side of my face. “Just look at me, green eyes. Okay?”
“She’s gone,” I whispered, not being able to accept it. “How can she be gone?”
“She just is.” Elliot swallowed. “It doesn’t make sense, Noah. None of it does; nothin’ will ever make sense to me. She shouldn’t be buried here but she is, and there’s nothin’
