‘Wakey, wakey…’ Her face twisted into a grimaced smile.
I retched. How long had I been knocked out for? It was properly dark outside now.
‘You sent a text to Adam telling him that you want some space, and to pass the message on to everyone that you just want to be left alone.’ Rachel held the phone out to me to read. I looked away. ‘It worked, because he has just replied to let you know that you’re selfish and he’s had enough of you. So don’t expect anyone to be running to your rescue, just in case that’s what you were thinking.’ She was pleased with herself. ‘And later, after you’ve downed the rest of your vodka, and swallowed these’ – she shook a jar of pills – ‘you’ll send him another message to say goodbye.’
I squirmed and the ties cut into my wrists. Rachel bent down to examine the angry red lines they had made, holding my wrists up for closer inspection.
‘Hmmm… I might have to slit your wrists too, just to cover this mess.’ She stood up and stretched, her neck giving a violent crack. She gazed out of the window, considering, her face twisted into a snarl. ‘I think that’s quite you, don’t you? Very Izzy. You would be thorough. And look – these are the same pills that I used for your sister. How poetic is that?’
Rachel squatted down in front of me and hauled me over her shoulder in a fireman’s lift. I screamed and squirmed, and she punched me hard in the ribs.
‘I would keep still if I were you. A drunken fall down the stairs is still an option.’
She carried me upstairs and dropped me into the bath. My wrist hit the edge of the avocado tub with a sickening crunch.
‘Don’t move.’ She pushed me back and turned on the tap.
Cold water splashed into my face and I twisted out of the way, blinking my eyes open and spluttering snot and water. It took me a second to catch my breath and see clearly. Rachel wasn’t in the room – where had she gone?
The water was filling the tub around me, making it even harder to move. I could probably get out of the bath, but where would I run to? My bedroom? I was torn between fighting back now and saving my energy. Terror paralysed me.
The thunder of Rachel’s steps rumbled up the stairs and she reappeared at the door with her hands full. She carefully placed the bottles of vodka and the knife on the bathroom counter – the staging for my suicide – neatly arranging each item.
I thought of the kids – they would never know that I hadn’t abandoned them, and Mum – how would she cope, losing me so soon after Amy? And poor Adam, who would blame himself. It was my fault. I should have seen it. The answer had been in front of me all along. And now I hadn’t just failed Amy. I’d failed all of them.
I was shivering – I didn’t know if it was from the biting cold of the water or terror. Rachel crouched at the side of the bath and removed the lid from the bottle of vodka. With a tenderness that took me by surprise, she slowly peeled off the tape from my mouth. I was aware that it stung, but numb to the pain of it.
‘Please Rachel, please don’t do this.’ I begged. ‘Let’s work something out…’
‘Shh… Just drink,’ she said in a soft voice.
She gently tipped my head back and put the bottle to my lips. I clamped my mouth closed shut, the vodka running down my chin. She slapped me again and pinched my nose until I gave in, gasping for air, and shoved the bottle roughly into my mouth.
Vodka had never tasted so bad. It burned like icy fire, every drop scorching my throat, pooling in my stomach like poison. How much would she force me to drink? How much could I hold down?
The pain in my wrist was pulsating and the water was still rising – it was now at my chest and the weight was crushing me, pinning me down. I was powerless, and at that moment, I gave up. This was how I was going to die.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. Exhaustion took over and I closed my eyes, tuning out everything except the sound of the water. The water, the water. Listen to the water. Focus on your breathing. Take yourself away from here.
I imagined I was on the beach with Amy, lying on our backs. Sand beneath us. No need to talk to each other – we always knew what the other was thinking anyway. She wasn’t disappointed in me, and I hadn’t let her down. Amy turned her head towards me and smiled, and I knew that she wasn’t far away from me now.
A smash and a scream ripped me back to the moment. Not a scream so much as a war-cry, a guttural howl…
The smash had been the bathroom door slamming open against the wall. Rachel whipped around, but barely had time to register Auntie Sue, howling, her face contorted with rage – or the stone foo dog she was holding high in two hands – before Auntie Sue slammed the ornament down hard against Rachel’s head.
I saw a glimmer of confusion on Rachel’s face as she fell backwards from her crouch, and Auntie Sue’s shock as she looked down at her own hands, violently trembling, still tightly clutching the foo dog. She took in the set-up on the dresser and looked at me, her eyes wide, the colour drained from her. Her expression was of sheer terror.
Rachel gave a low growl like a wild animal, shaking off the blow. She gripped the edge of the bath to steady herself as she slowly got back to her feet.
‘Auntie Sue!’ I screamed. ‘Do something!’
Just then, Mum crashed through the door
