In Too Deep Read Free Page A

what?
    ‘Vodka with a broccoli chaser. All the students are doing it.’ She laughs, her big white teeth exposed. She plays with her thick blonde ponytail as it falls loose from its band. ‘Seriously, Mum, you don’t need to worry. I can take care of myself. I’m eighteen.’
    I give a small smile back, punctuating the conversation with a nod. That’s exactly what I’m worried about.
    ‘And boys? What about boys?’
    ‘God, Mum.
No
.’
    Rick and I were convinced there was someone lastautumn, during her first term, but she’s never been one to talk about that sort of thing. We didn’t push her, but she came home for Christmas early, perhaps because of boy troubles. With hindsight, it was a blessing in disguise that she was home. It was shortly after this that Rick went.
    Vanished.
    Disappeared.
    Left me. Left
us
.
    Died. Was killed. Killed himself.
    Was murdered. Had an accident. Had enough.
    ‘Mum?’
    I look up, startled and wide-eyed. I grab the biscuit tin off the side and open it, but neither of us takes one.
    ‘There are no boys,’ she repeats more kindly, slipping her hand on top of my fist, covering my white knuckles. ‘And more to the point, how are
you
?’
    We didn’t speak much on the journey home from the campus, which is thankfully only an hour’s drive away. A year ago, Rick was trying to persuade Hannah to spread her wings, head up to Edinburgh, Durham, or even study abroad. He felt quite strongly about it, which surprised me. But in the end, Hannah’s stubbornness won over, and she accepted an offer much closer to home.
    Now it’s a comfort that she’s nearby. Sometimes I take her out for lunch under the pretence of having an afternoon off work. Once, when she was too busy to see me, I drove out to her campus anyway. I sat in the car watching the students walking between lectures, hoping to catch aglimpse of her. I needed to know she was OK, that she was still alive.
    ‘I’m fine,’ I lie. ‘We’re busy at work. Steph’s got a new man,’ I say, trying to force a twinkle in my eye. ‘
Again
. And Mick is thinking of opening a new branch in another part of the city. I’m hoping he’ll consider me for manager.’
    A fresh start would do me good, I think.
    ‘That’s great, Mum,’ Hannah says. ‘Dad would be proud of you.’
    ‘And he’d be so proud of you too,’ I say in return. But Hannah doesn’t reply. Her eyes close, and her face falls parallel to her legs.

Gina
    ‘A woman phoned earlier,’ I tell Hannah later.
    My mouth is full of chicken. It’s supper on trays, a bottle of wine, and Saturday-night TV blaring out as loud as we can stand it. It goes some way towards a brief respite; to getting through another evening any way I can. ‘It was about the dog.’
    ‘Cooper?’ Hannah says, chewing and frowning. ‘How come?’ She reaches for the remote control and jabs it at the television, sinking the volume.
    I lay down my knife and fork, wiping my mouth. ‘She was calling from a hotel in the Cotswolds and wanted to know if we’re bringing our dog along.’
    ‘You’re not making sense, Mum.’ Hannah is beginning to lose interest. She knocks the volume back up a pip or two. ‘We?’
    But it makes sense to me. I’ve been making sense of it all afternoon. Rick booked five nights in a country hotel. It means he was making plans. He was thinking ahead. He was doing something nice. For me. For
us
. He wantedto celebrate our wedding anniversary. He wanted to be alive.
    ‘Think about it, Hannah,’ I say, trying to get her full attention again. ‘Dad wouldn’t have been sure of your plans this holiday, so he booked a dog-friendly hotel in case you were busy.’
    Hannah glances at me. ‘What’s Dad got to do with it?’ she says, her eyes narrowing, as if she’s processing the information, trying to make sense of it just as I have been all afternoon. ‘Are you sure you’re not doing that thing again, Mum? Reading something into nothing? What hotel, anyway?’
    I