Maria Frankland
Hit and Run
He was dead before she really knew him
First published by Autonomy Press 2021
Copyright © 2021 by Maria Frankland
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmittedin any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise withoutwritten permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distributeit by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it arethe work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localitiesis entirely coincidental.
Maria Frankland asserts the moral right to be identified asthe author of this work.
First edition
Cover art by Darran Holmes
This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy
Find out more at reedsy.com
For John Stephenson (1955-2019)
A dad who was as supportive, present and wonderful
as the dad in this story
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Prologue
All couples have issues, don’t they? Everyone has their ups and downs. That’s life. I’ll get through this. But how?
A bike ride usually calms me down. As I ride out of Otley towards Ilkley, I don’t feel the hill that normally challenges me. Today I’m at the top before I notice that my breathing is laboured.
On any other day, I would enjoy the freewheel down the other side, the summer air whooshing in my ears, impressive scenery as far as the eye can see.
I’m always grateful that I live around here. But today I don’t feel grateful for anything. The demons that have been chasing me have finally caught up.
I pedal faster, as though trying to escape them, glancing over my shoulder to see how far away the approaching vehicle is. I’ve got time to get around the narrow bend onto a straight and wider run. Give it room to get past me. I know this stretch well and enjoy getting my speed up. My tracker normally clocks me at forty miles an hour here. As I take the corner, I glance around again to the roar of the engine, now right behind me, the sound feeling as though it’s vibrating through my chest. The driver is not slowing and is not going around me.
I don’t know whether the sickening crunch is caused at the point of impact or as my body lands. Agonising pain shoots through me, and the world turns black.
Chapter 1
Mum rams her make-up bag into the side of her suitcase. “It’s not like I ever ask much of you Fiona.” She glares at me. “I never have.”
“You’re asking me to lie for you. Again. It’s not fair Mum.”
She swings around to face me. “I’ll tell you what’s not fair, Mrs Know-It-All.” Her face bears the expression that scares me as much as it did when I was seven years old. “What’s not fair is being trapped in a marriage with a boring man, whose idea of living is work, dinner, TV and bed, day after day after day.” Her angry voice echoes around our sparsely furnished guest room, steam still curling through the door of the en-suite after Mum’s recent shower. “You think you’ve got it all sussed, don’t you? You’re happy settling for your crap and mediocre life. I can do so much better.”
“Dad’s a good man. He loves you.” Not wanting Rob to hear me arguing with Mum, I battle to keep my voice low, hoping she’ll follow suit. I hate it when she slags Dad off. It’s him who could do so much better.
“I’m only with him because of what he might do if I leave. You know that.” She pulls a comb through her damp hair. “It’s emotional bloody blackmail. And I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.” She slams herself onto the bed, her bracelets rattling with the force. “If you tell him the truth, on your head be it, do you hear me?”
“What do you mean?” I walk to the window and twist the blind to let the early June sunshine in. I can’t bear to look at her cold eyes and tight mouth. Really, I know exactly what she means, and it runs much deeper than the danger Dad might pose to himself.
“It would be a shame for you and me to sever our ties again. Jack certainly enjoys his Granny Maggie being here.” Her voice softens. It always does for anything to do with Jack.
“You’ve only been here for one night.”
“We’re making up for lost time though, aren’t we? At least that’s what you’d better be saying to your father.”
Deep down, I wish we were making up for lost time. That she could be the mother she never has been. “You don’t need to convince yourself of that – you’ve already got Dad fooled. One night is hardly making up for anything really, is it?”
“Don’t get all high and mighty with me, lady.” Mum’s eyes narrow. “You’re never too old for a slap across the face.”
“You can’t hit me anymore Mother. Have you not noticed I’m a grown woman now.” I’ve got to stand up to her, though I’m quaking as I do.
“So stop giving me grief. As far as your father knows, I’m here for two weeks. I might even spend another night here on my return journey from Devon.” She squirts some perfume onto her neck. I remember when she would squirt it on me when I was a girl. When she was in a ‘good mood’ with me. When she was in a ‘bad mood,’ I got ignored. She continues. “At least I can get another live video with Jack to put on Facebook.”
“I can’t keep lying to Dad. I
