‘He turned on me after you went. I want you to know that. I didn’t have to put up with anything like you did, but he was a bastard to me. I lost count of the times I wished he was dead.’
I hear a tiny groan, and realise it’s mine.
Snapping into action, Dan comes toward me.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ Out of nowhere, irritation’s taken hold. It’s probably something to do with the fact I’ve just spotted Big Ben. It’s already below us, and now I really do feel sick. ‘Get on with it…’
‘But …’
He reaches out, and I bat him off.
‘I’m three miles high in a stupid glass egg,’ I snarl, locking eyes with him, ‘and I want to puke. I’m not exactly enjoying this, Dan, so just fucking get on with it. You’re going to be a dad and I don’t want any twisted shit left in your head. I want you happy and sorted. Capiche?’
He blinks a few times. ‘Capiche,’ he murmurs before turning back to his sister.
‘Layla,’ I breathe. ‘Tell him what you told me.’
‘I can do better than that.’ She reaches into her handbag and pulls out a sheet of paper, nervously offering it to Dan. ‘A post-mortem report.’
As if he’s scared it might burn a hole in his hand, he stares at it.
‘You never checked it out?’ she asks.
He shakes his head.
‘Just ran away and buried your head in the sand? Well, that’s a shame. The coroner said there was no definitive link between the assault and his death.’
‘But it’s possible …’
‘No, it’s not,’ she cuts in. ‘He had a scan, just after you beat him up. There was no bleeding at the time, nothing … but they did find a tumour. Malign. Inoperable. It ruptured later, caused the haemorrhage. Even if you’d never touched him, he would have died. That’s what killed him, Dan. The tumour. Not you.’
She offers him the sheet again and this time, he takes it.
While he begins to read, I force myself to look out over London, taking in as much as I can: The Houses of Parliament in the distance; toy cars streaming across Westminster Bridge; bathtub boats skimming along the Thames. That’s all I manage before panic kicks in. We’re heading towards the top of the Eye’s rotation now, high above the city, and that’s more than enough for me. I shut my eyes again.
‘I didn’t?’ he asks at last.
‘You didn’t,’ Layla confirms. ‘One hundred percent. You didn’t kill him.’
For the next few seconds, I hear nothing apart from the soft rush of air through the pod’s vents.
‘And there’s something else,’ she says at last, her voice almost breaking. ‘He didn’t want a police investigation.’
‘Maybe he’d just given up. I presume he knew he was dying.’
‘I think it was more than that.’
Another pause, and I know what’s coming next.
‘After it happened, he wasn’t himself. Mum found him one night, in the outhouse, sitting on the floor, staring into space. I never understood why he did that, but now I do. He knew it was you. He could have had you charged for it, but he didn’t.’
More silence.
‘So, he found a scrap of humanity? It doesn’t let me off the hook. I still did what I did.’
‘The fact is, you lost control and beat him up, and he understood. That’s it, Dan. You didn’t kill him. And before you go on about Mum, she was already knocking it back, even before he died. She was always going to drink herself to death. That’s her fault, not yours.’
The seconds drag by.
‘There’s a hole in my life, Dan. And it’s not because my parents are dead. It’s because I lost my brother. If you want to make amends for what happened, there’s only one thing you need to do … come back to me.’
‘Do it,’ I urge him.
I’d love to watch what happens next, but until we’ve passed the top, there’s no way I’m opening my eyes again. There’s no more talking. That’s all I know. They could be staring at each other. They could be hugging. I have no idea. In darkness, I count the seconds, making it to just over a minute when I’m stopped by a hand on my shoulder, an arm sliding around my back, strong and protective.
‘Keep breathing.’ He pulls me in to his chest, and holds me tight. ‘You’re doing brilliantly.’
I dig my head into his neck, drinking in his scent, aware that his heart’s thumping.
‘You, too.’
As the minutes pass, his heart rate slows, and I sense the tension ebbing away from his body.
‘How’s Sophie?’ he asks at last.
One little question, a tiny step towards normality.
‘You know about the cancer?’ Layla’s voice now.
‘Yes.’
‘The chemo’s going well.’
‘Good.’
‘She’s coming round, gradually, accepting what he was really like. She wants to see you.’
I wait, silently urging him to accept the offer. Finally, it comes.
‘And I want to see her too.’
‘Oh, thank fuck for that,’ I sigh.
Half-opening an eye, I squint out of the glass. We’ve passed the highest point. I straighten up a little, realising that Dan’s sitting to my right, and Layla’s on my left. Reassured by their presence, I keep my eyes open, watching as we descend back towards the water. Before long, we’re engulfed by a mesh of steel. The nightmare’s nearly at an end.
‘It’s good to have you back, Layla,’ Dan says. And then he squeezes me. ‘We’re nearly there, sweet pea.’
He’s not just talking about the ride. He’s talking about us.
‘I know,’ I smile. ‘We are.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘This isn’t fair.’ The paper hat slides down Sara’s head one more time. She rearranges it. ‘You two are totally sober.’
‘I’m
