I realised I would have to think up some excuse as to why I wasn’t drinking alcohol as I didn’t want Ava and Willow to know about the pregnancy, at least not yet.

  My phone pinged. It was Issie. She had sent a message on the group WhatsApp chat:

  Won’t make tonight. At the emergency vets with Jasper. I think he’s been poisoned x

  I stared at the message.

  Oh God… Poor Issie. Poor Jasper.

  Jasper was her father’s old cat. Issie’s mother had died of secondary breast cancer after fighting it for nine years when Issie was sixteen. With no other family, it had only been her and her father. Then he was diagnosed with prostate cancer three years back, but it was a late diagnosis and consequently had rapidly spread. So, all Issie had left was Jasper.

  And all you have is Darcy, Claudia, and—

  My eyes started to burn from the stinging sensation of threatening tears. The body-wrenching ache I felt at his loss was always beneath the surface, waiting to blindside me at the most unexpected moments. I had heard nothing regarding his disappearance nearly four weeks ago. No one had answered my flyers or posters. Nor had he been handed to a veterinary practice or one of the cat charities or animal shelters.

  I slowly breathed out, refocusing on poor Issie’s message.

  Before I had a chance to reply to her, Willow rang.

  ‘Hi, you. I’ll be there in two secs,’ Willow breezily greeted.

  ‘Where are you?’ I questioned, looking for her.

  ‘Waving straight at you, silly.’ Willow giggled.

  I then spotted Willow standing on the edge of the opposite pavement, frantically waving as she waited to cross the road to join me.

  ‘I’m ordering us a bottle of champagne,’ she gushed, sounding giddy.

  I broke into a grin. ‘I take it from the sound of your voice that you’ve got some exciting news that you want to share.’

  ‘Can you tell?’

  I laughed. ‘You always were terrible at keeping secrets.’

  ‘Oh, Claudia, I don’t think I have ever been so happy. I know tonight’s maybe not the right time, what with this being about Jaz. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to contain myself. So, I thought, why not? I know Jaz would have been thrilled for me.’

  ‘If this is what I think it is, I am so happy for you! And Charles, of course.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Willow said. ‘Don’t breathe a word to the others until I announce it. Promise?’

  ‘Promise,’ I agreed, delighted for her.

  I beamed at her as she darted out into the road between a gap in the traffic. Before I had a chance to react, a dark silver Range Rover sped towards her, coming out of nowhere. I watched, unable to do anything as it hit her, flipping her petite figure up into the air. She crashed down onto the car bonnet before being thrown into the road directly in front of me. A car screeched as it braked, swerving to avoid her lifeless body.

  ‘WILLOW!’ I screamed, jumping up, knocking my mineral water over.

  Oh my God… Oh my God… WILLOW!

  25

  ‘WILLOW!’ I yelled, shoving past the bystanders who had gathered from nowhere. ‘MOVE!’ I screeched. ‘Move out the way!’

  Pushing my way through, I managed to reach her. Collapsing to my knees, I bent over her. I stared in terror. Her eyes were closed, and her dark skin had turned a sickening sallow shade. Her nose was bleeding, and I could see blood trickling out from her right ear.

  ‘Willow?’ I cried out, my voice filled with desperation. ‘Oh God, please be all right. Willow? Someone call 999,’ I yelled up at the shocked, faceless gawkers circling us. ‘NOW!’ I barked at their lack of response.

  I looked back down at Willow, conscious of the people gaping at her. Her floaty white dress had risen above her pierced navel. I pulled the dress down. The biker-style leather jacket she was wearing would have protected her arms from cuts and deep abrasions, unlike her bare legs. I blocked out the sight of the white bone protruding through her left lower leg as it lay twisted at a sickening irregular angle.

  I noted that her chest wasn’t moving. I put my ear to her mouth to see if she was breathing. Terrified, I then placed my right index and middle fingers under her neck, just beside her windpipe, to check her pulse.

  ‘Is she still alive?’ someone questioned.

  I looked up at the cyclist now crouching down beside me.

  ‘I can feel a pulse, but she’s not breathing,’ I answered.

  ‘We need to move her into the recovery position to open up her airways,’ the cyclist suggested.

  ‘No! Don’t. She might have spinal injuries,’ I insisted.

  ‘But…’ He faltered, shaking his head, not knowing whether to listen to me or just proceed. He looked at me. ‘She’s not breathing. She’ll die if we do nothing.’

  ‘I’m serious. Don’t touch her!’

  ‘Are you a doctor?’ he questioned.

  Ignoring him, I moved to behind Willow’s head and pulled back her tight curly black hair from her unresponsive face. I then rested my hands on either side of her cheeks.

  ‘What are you doing? I thought you said not to move her?’ the cyclist asked.

  ‘Please!’ I hissed. ‘She’s in respiratory arrest, and I need to concentrate.’

  I breathed in. I needed to make sure my hands were steady. I placed my fingers at the bottom of her jawbone and my thumbs at the side of her cheekbones. Breathing out, I pressed down with my thumbs and simultaneously lifted forward and up with my fingers to open her airways.

  Succeeding, I finally exhaled.

  I looked at the cyclist. ‘It’s called the jaw thrust manoeuvre. It’s used to clear the airways when an injury to the spine is suspected.’

  ‘Has it worked?’ he asked, noticing that I hadn’t let go of her head.

  I nodded as her chest rose. ‘I need to keep my hands either side of her cheeks to prevent any movement until the paramedics take over.’

  ‘How did you know to do that?’

  ‘First-aid training.’

  He frowned at me. ‘Most people would freeze even with training.’

  I swallowed. Tried to focus on his words and not the blood pooling beneath Willow’s head.

  She’s going to be all right, Claudia. You’ve got her…

  I dragged my gaze back up to the cyclist’s. ‘I… I witnessed a school friend have a terrible horse-riding accident. We were eleven, and she was competing. She… she hit the ground and she wasn’t breathing. No one was able to save her. Not our teacher, or the judge. She died that day from acute respiratory and cardiac failure,’ I explained.

  ‘Oh… I’m sorry,’ he awkwardly replied.

  ‘Thanks,’ I mumbled. ‘I promised myself that I would get training so if I ever witnessed anything like that again, I would know what to do,’ I added.

  Embarrassed, I broke away from his sympathetic gaze. I then noticed Willow’s black Givenchy bag. It had opened, and all her items, including her wallet, were scattered across the road.

  ‘Could you get her bag, please?’ I asked.

  ‘Sure,’ he replied, getting up.

  ‘And her phone. She was on her phone when…’ I faltered. I shook my head as I glanced around, but I couldn’t see it. I could feel panic rising at the thought that I didn’t know where her phone had gone. Willow was always on her phone; she wouldn’t know what to do without it.

  Oh God! Oh God! What if she—

  I stopped myself. I couldn’t go there.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll find it,’ he assured, seeing my distress.

  The wail of sirens filled the evening air, signalling the nearing ambulances and police cars.

  ‘Won’t be long now, Willow. I promise,’ I whispered to her. ‘I promise that you’re going to be okay. You hear me? You’re going to be okay.’

  I didn’t let myself think about the alternative.

  ‘I think I found everything,’ the cyclist said as he placed Willow’s bag next to me. ‘I put her phone in her bag. Miraculously, it’s not smashed up.’

  I looked up at him. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You know her?’ he asked.

  I hadn’t expected that question. I looked down at Willow, noticing how young and fragile she looked. Out of the four of us, how could she, of all people, be lying here? Willow had never hurt anyone in her life. She exuded love and trust, even when it wasn’t deserving.

  I realised I was crying when my tears landed on her serene face.

  I sniffed as I nodded, unable to take my eyes off her. ‘Yes. I’ve known her most of my life.’

  ‘Oh, Christ! I’m so sorry,’ he sympathised.

  I shook my head as tears continued to fall.

  ‘She’s going to be fine. I know she will,’ I replied, not wanting to accept any other possibility.

  I checked my phone, but there was no connection. I had called Charles on my way to the hospital and explained what had happened to Willow. I then rang Issie and Ava. Neither had answered, and so, I had left garbled voice messages about the accident. I then followed up with texts, letting them know where the ambulance had taken Willow. I was desperately hoping that they would get here soon.

  I realised my hands were trembling as I lowered them, keeping hold of my phone as I waited. I didn’t know what else to do. My mind was in freefall. I picked up the lukewarm paper cup of water on the Ikea-style table beside me and took a tentative sip as I focused on the internal window of the small light turquoise-coloured room. Someone had ushered me in here to wait for news of Willow. The blinds were open and, I could see a surgeon in blue scrubs walking in my direction. I expectantly looked at the door, but they continued to walk on. I accepted that not enough time had passed for someone to come and update me.

  Willow had been examined by the emergency team when first admitted into hospital and then taken to theatre. That had been fifty-five long, painful minutes ago.

  Suddenly, the door burst open.

  ‘Charles,’ I cried, stumbling to my feet as he walked into the room.

  ‘Claudia? I… I… Oh God…’

  ‘I know,’ I mumbled as I hugged him, relieved that someone else was now here.

  Finally, we released each other. I stepped back. It was odd, I barely knew Charles, but at that moment, it felt like we had always known each other. It was as if we were the only two people in the world. Our connection was the shared, cruel pain of not knowing whether the woman we both loved would live.

  ‘What happened?’ Charles asked.

  I looked into his haunted eyes as they searched mine for answers. Before I had a chance to reply, there was a polite knock before two police officers walked in.

  ‘Claudia Harper?’ one of the officers asked.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied. I had already given my details to the officers who had turned up at the scene and then to the hospital staff.

  ‘And you are?’ he questioned, looking at Charles.

  ‘I’m Willow’s fiancé,’ answered Charles. ‘Charles. Charles Fernsby. I’ve… I’ve just arrived.’

  I sat down. Charles did the same.

  ‘I’m James, and this is Lauren,’ the male officer said, introducing his female partner as they sat down opposite us. ‘I understand that…’ He paused for a moment and looked at the screen of the device he was holding. ‘You were there when it happened, Claudia? When your friend was knocked down. Is that right?’

  I nodded. ‘I was waiting for Willow. We were meeting at The Queen Charlotte.’

  I watched as the female officer took a note of it.

  ‘Did you witness what happened?’ he asked.

  I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry. I picked up the paper cup of water and took a sip. I had replayed the scene of the car hitting Willow over in my head for the past fifty-five minutes. The noise of the impact of Willow’s body slamming against the bonnet of the Range Rover, then the horrific screeching of braking tyres as she catapulted into the road of an oncoming vehicle. How they didn’t run over her was beyond me.

  ‘I… I was on the phone with Willow when it happened,’ I replied, shaking my head as I recalled seeing her waving at me. ‘She was on the opposite pavement. She then walked into the road heading towards me and…’ I faltered. Again, I could hear the sickening sound of her body against the bonnet. Then the furious screeching of tyres as her body was thrown into the road.

  I could feel my eyes smarting. I willed myself not to cry. Not here. Not now.

  Focus, Claudia! Tell him what happened.

  ‘This car came out of nowhere and hit her,’ I recalled, wiping at the tears now falling.

  ‘The car, can you tell me anything about it?’ the male officer asked.

  ‘It was a dark silver Range Rover.’

  ‘Did you notice the driver?’ he continued.

  ‘I think it was a woman. It’s a blur, if I’m honest with you.’

  ‘This happened at approximately 6.48 p.m. It would still be light.’

  I looked at him and nodded. It explained why the driver was wearing—

  ‘Sunglasses. The driver was wearing sunglasses.’

  The female officer shot her partner a look before making a note of it.

  ‘Age?’ he continued.

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Hair colour?’ he questioned.

  ‘Dark, I think.’

  The female officer recorded that detail.

  ‘But I’m not sure. It happened so quickly. I was more focused on Willow.’

  The male officer nodded. ‘I understand. Would you be willing to help a police artist compile a sketch of the driver?’

  ‘Sure. But, as I said, it’s vague.’

  ‘Who knew that Willow was meeting you this evening?’ continued the male.

  ‘What?’ I said, thrown by the question. ‘What are you suggesting? That it was deliberate?’

  ‘All we’re trying to do is establish the facts,’ he calmly answered.

  ‘Charles?’ I asked, turning to him.

  Shocked, he shook his head. ‘No one,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Aside from the friends we were meeting tonight,’ I answered.

  ‘Who are they?’ the male officer questioned.

  ‘Ava Jefferson, Isabella Richardson-Willoughby and myself,’ I explained.

  I watched, alarmed, as the female officer took down their names.

  ‘Were they with you?’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I said, staring at the officers.

  ‘Please answer the question. Were they with you?’ the male officer repeated.

  ‘No… Issie had…’ I recalled her WhatsApp message. ‘Issie had an emergency and cancelled and Ava didn’t turn up. I don’t know why.’

  If she had done, she would have witnessed Willow being attended to by the paramedics. Or, if she arrived late, the area would have been cordoned off as a crime scene.

  ‘Have you heard from either of them?’ he asked.

  ‘No. But there’s no mobile signal in here. I expect Ava will be here soon. But Issie lives in Kent, and her cat is ill…’ I broke off, realising I wasn’t making any sense.

  Willow might die, Claudia! And you’re talking about Issie’s cat.

  ‘I see,’ noted the female officer. ‘And why were you meeting up?’

  ‘It was to commemorate our school friend, Jaz. She died nearly two months back, and we were getting together to—’ I stopped myself.

  The letter, Claudia. You were getting together to find out about this letter someone sent Jaz days before she died. Tell them that! That Ava had this letter: that the three of them knew something about Jaz’s death. They knew something and kept it back from you.

  Then it hit me: Oh my God… Was Jaz’s death really a suicide?

  I pushed the terrifying thought away.

  ‘Who arranged it?’ the female officer questioned.

  ‘I suppose it was Issie – Isabella.’

  She nodded.

  ‘I don’t understand. Are you insinuating that either one of them would want to hurt Willow? I mean, that is crazy! We’ve all been friends since the age of eleven. We boarded together, shared a dormitory for years. It isn’t even possible to consider that either of them would do anything to… to Willow.’

  ‘As we said, we are simply trying to establish the facts.’

  No one spoke as the horrifying insinuation hung in the stale air.

  ‘You’re certain this wasn’t just a terrible accident?’ I asked, unable to reconcile myself with the alternative.

  Another look passed between the two officers.

  ‘Please? If you know something, we have a right to be told,’ I stated.

  The male officer sighed. ‘We have three witnesses at the scene who said that the vehicle that hit Willow had been idling further down the road. That as soon as Willow stepped out onto the road, it pulled out and sped towards her. We don’t believe that’s a coincidence.’

  The door suddenly opened as a doctor entered the claustrophobic room. She nodded at the two police officers before expectantly turning to Charles.

  Charles jumped up. ‘Willow?’

  ‘She is still in surgery,’ she explained. ‘But we wanted to update you.’

  ‘How is she?’ Charles questioned, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

  ‘She has sustained various broken bones, and she has a punctured lung and damaged kidney. But it is the blunt trauma to her head that concerns us. She has suffered a traumatic brain injury. But we’re doing everything we can for her.’

  I watched as Charles dragged a shaky hand back through his hair as he absorbed this information.

  ‘The next few hours are critical. I suggest you contact Willow’s immediate family,’ she gently advised.

  ‘Her parents live in France. I talked to them about fifteen minutes ago, and they’re making plans to get back to the UK.’

  ‘I suggest they do it ASAP.’

  Charles took a step back, momentarily losing his balance.

 

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