‘Holly . . .’ Suzie hissed, a little louder this time. ‘She’s in here.’
She pointed through Josie’s open bedroom door and Holly took a faltering step towards it, scared that she was going to see her mum lying dead on the floor.
‘See, I told you it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought,’ Suzie whispered, stroking Holly’s arm as the shivering girl stared at her mum, who was lying in the bed now, the grubby quilt pulled over her.
‘I – I thought she was . . .’ Holly tailed off and swallowed loudly as the fear began to subside, leaving a nauseous feeling in its wake. ‘She looked so bad, Suzie. Really sweaty and pale, like a ghost.’
Tiptoeing into the room, Suzie went over to the bed and peered at Josie’s face before lightly touching her cheek.
‘She is a bit clammy,’ she whispered when Holly crept up beside her. ‘But she’s been through a lot today, and it’ll have taken a massive toll on her.’
‘You don’t think we should call for an ambulance – just in case?’ Holly asked.
Suzie pursed her lips and peered at Josie again. Then, shaking her head, she said, ‘If the doctors at the hospital had thought there was anything seriously wrong they wouldn’t have let her discharge herself, so let’s wait and see how she is when she wakes up, eh? Chances are, she’s exhausted and needs to sleep. And that won’t have helped, if she’s had any since she got home,’ she added, indicating the bottle of vodka on the bedside table.
‘Yeah, she has,’ Holly said, hugging herself as she recalled the way her mum had been knocking it back before flying off the handle.
‘No wonder she’s out cold, then,’ Suzie said. ‘She took quite a beating by the look of it, and they would have given her strong painkillers at hospital. Them and alcohol don’t mix, so you’re not supposed to drink while you’re on them.’
‘Do you think she’ll be OK?’ Holly asked.
‘I’d say so,’ Suzie said, backing away from the bed. ‘But she’ll probably have a massive hangover, so make sure she drinks plenty of water when she wakes up.’
Nodding, Holly followed when Suzie went back out into the hall.
‘Thanks for coming over,’ she said, feeling daft for panicking now she knew it was the booze that had sent her mum funny.
‘You don’t need to thank me, hon,’ Suzie said, heading for the door. ‘We’re friends, and I’m happy to help. Now try to get some sleep, ’cos your mum’s not the only one who’s had a rough night. If anything happens or you get worried, ring me. OK?’
‘If I can find my phone,’ Holly said.
‘Last time I saw it was when we were watching the film,’ Suzie told her. ‘I think you shoved it down the side of the cushion.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Holly murmured. ‘Thanks.’
When Suzie had gone, Holly retrieved her phone and turned it on. She hadn’t told Suzie, but she had turned it off earlier, sick of seeing the messages that had been coming in throughout the day and evening – all along the same threatening lines as those that had been sent to her that morning. There were several new ones when the screen lit up, and she was deleting them when she saw that the last two were from Bex, along with four missed call notifications.
Hey Holls, are you OK? the first message began. Ju’s mum told her someone’s been attacked round your way. I tried to ring but you’re not answering. Please let me know you’re all right xx
Holls ring me!!!! the second, more urgent message read. Ju’s mum’s friend is married to a copper and she said it was a woman called Josie who got attacked. It wasn’t your mum was it???? Please ring me babes xx
Blinking when unexpected tears welled in her eyes, Holly went to ring Bex but stopped herself when she realized her friend would be fast asleep. About to reply to her messages instead, she snapped her head up at the sound of a groan coming from her mum’s room.
Josie had rolled onto her back and the quilt was on the floor beside her. Holly picked it up and was gently laying it over her when she rolled over again. The hospital gown had ridden up, and Holly’s gaze was drawn to a large bruise on her thigh between a cluster of smaller ones. It was purple and black, and had fainter lines zig-zagging through it, like the sole of a trainer. Upset to think that the beast who had attacked her mum must have stamped on her, she wondered if the police had noticed it. In CSI: Miami, one of her favourite TV shows, the detectives were always finding footprints in soil outside windows and in pools of blood at crime scenes, and they always took photos to determine the shoe size and type of footwear. It invariably led them to the killer, and she wondered if she ought to take a photo of this imprint on her phone and ask Suzie to pass it on to that nice copper who’d come round earlier.
Josie flopped over again before Holly had a chance to open her phone camera. She was agitated, thrashing her head from side to side, and Holly remembered what Suzie had said about making sure she had something to drink after she woke up when she saw how dry and cracked her lips were.
Josie started mumbling. Unable to make out the words, Holly touched her arm, and said, ‘Mum . . .? Are you awake?’
‘No . . .’ Josie croaked, her eyes still closed.
Thinking it was a reply to her question, Holly said, ‘I’m going to get you a drink; won’t be a sec.’
‘No!’ Josie said again, more forcefully. ‘You can’t have her, she’s mine! Leave us alone . . . !’
Holly gazed down at her and wondered if she was dreaming or delirious. She was shivering, even though she was still sweating, and a small patch of what looked like
