nothing as she walked toward the officer waiting for her at the door. Holden stood on the steps of the station and watched as the policeman opened the back door and let her in.

When she drove away in the back of the police car clutching a blanket around her, Holden was still there.

* * *

EILEEN SPENT MOST OF THE NIGHT UNDER OBSERVATION at the hospital. Lloyd had damaged the ligaments in her left wrist, resulting in her leaving the A&E with a bandaged hand and painkillers. Luckily, that was the worst of it. The doctors proclaimed that she hadn’t suffered any brain damage from being submerged for so long and they believed she’d made a full recovery. But Eileen knew that she wouldn’t feel very lucky once she got home. How could she forget what had happened, the trauma she’d experienced at Lloyd’s hands, knowing how close she’d come to death. She sighed when she got into the police car just after sunrise. She’d made it through the ordeal and now, she could only hope to get better.

She’d dozed for a few hours in the hospital so she wasn’t overly tired when the constables deposited her at her door. She sorely regretted the loss of her handbag and house keys; they were probably waterlogged and drifting out to sea with the tide. Eileen trudged up the stairs and reached under the mat for the spare key. She was just about to unlock the door when she noticed something glowing in a cardboard box next to the mat. She leaned over and lifted out a jar of fireflies and smiled. Nostalgia stole over her as she watched them fluttering around in their glass enclosure; they reminded her so much of her childhood. As she’d always done in the past, Eileen opened the jar and let them fly into the predawn light like golden confetti adrift on a zephyr. It would never do to keep them captive for a whole day.

There was also a large see-through bag filled with broken chocolate biscuits, two beers and a bulky envelope with a foreign object that slid back and forth inside its paper prison. “Oh, Holden,” Eileen said softly to herself. Only he could have left this box at her door: the fireflies she said she loved, the beer and biscuits they ate the first time they had a proper conversation. A tear slipped down her cheek as the memories came flooding back. She thought she could just move on from him, but she couldn’t. In a few months, they had clicked into place like two broken halves wanting to be whole. Eileen heaved a deep breath as she looked at the envelope. Did she really want to know what was in it?

She used her house key to slit it open, its jagged edges revealing a thick sheath of papers, a key and a small note written in Holden’s neat handwriting. The papers were legal documents with a lot of jargon that Eileen barely understood, but the gist of it was that Holden had submitted a petition to dissolve Davis and Sons, transforming the funeral home into two businesses. Eileen clutched her hand to her chest. She suddenly felt weak; had she been the reason that Holden gave up on his father’s dream? It wasn’t her intention to break up their family. Eileen pressed her hip against the door jamb and rubbed her temples slowly.

The sun peaked over the balustrade, shining softly on the key and the note in her hand. To her surprise, it was the same one she’d used to access the funeral home when she had to lock up. The note was only a few lines, but it was enough to shake Eileen to the core:

Eileen,

My father used to say sacrifice has no short cuts. It’s the only saying he had that I never understood until now. We can’t expect any kind of growth without stepping back and taking a chance that what we give up today will make way for a bountiful yield tomorrow. I love Paul, but I trust that throwing him out of the nest will make him a better man in the end. I’ve enabled him for too long and his antics are not only stressful for me, but everyone else too.

There’s room for you in my life, literally and figuratively. Your key is enclosed and everything is upstairs. I hope that you’ll take a chance on me too.

Holden.

Chapter 33

A Room for Two

Eileen leaned her head against the door and tried to hold back tears. Adrenaline took over as she rushed inside the apartment, changed her clothes and raced down the stairs to catch the first bus. She cursed Lloyd as she hurried down the uneven road; thanks to him, she had no car and probably wouldn’t again for a long time. She sniffed hungrily as she ran; the aroma of salted meat, macaroni pie and rice hung over the village like a swarm of locusts. Eileen arrived at the bus stop, panting and bent double as she propped herself on the pole and waited. It didn’t take long before Debra sauntered past in her church clothes. Debra’s eyes lit up when she saw Eileen standing beneath the circular red and white bus stop. “Mornin’, where part the car?”

“Good morning. I’m well, thanks for asking. My car got wet.”

“Wet?” Debra wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Hmph, you talk so pretty, but ain’t know you got to roll up the windows to keep out the rain?” Debra shook her head.                                           “You going to Buckworth Street?”

Eileen bit her lip. “Yes.”

Debra looked her up and down. “Well, I ain’t got time for gossip because I going and take in God’s word now. But when you come back you could tell me why the tall dark fella with the sexy lips was by your house last night.”

* *

Вы читаете The Vanishing Girls
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату