by Tara Bond
“Yeah?” I bristled. “So you think I should just walk away, is that it? Just forget all about April?”
“No, of course not.” Maggie spoke with exaggerated patience. “I just think you need to understand what you’d be getting yourself into.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I said with far more confidence than I felt. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”
Maggie gave me a rueful smile. “I’ve no doubt that you will. I’m just not sure you should have to.”
I looked away. I didn’t need to be reminded of how hard this would be.
She reached out and squeezed my arm. I turned and saw the concern in her eyes. “Nina, you can’t do this all on your own. Isn’t there anyone you can ask for help? A relative or family friend, perhaps?”
“There’s no one.” Both sets of grandparents were dead, and my parents were only children, so there were no aunts or uncles around. And my mother had managed to alienate every friend we had over the years with her drinking. “You of all people should know that.”
Just then, April came out to the waiting room, so there was no more time to talk. She spotted Maggie straight away, and seemed to know immediately what her presence meant. I’d worried that my sister might get upset at the thought of having to go into foster care, but perhaps by then she’d resigned herself to it, because she just gave me a long hug.
“You’ll get me out as soon as you can?” she whispered in my ear.
“I will.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Although right then, I had no idea how I was going to keep my word.
* * *
After April left, I spent the rest of the day by my mother’s bedside. I might have despised the way she behaved, but she was still family, and I needed to make sure she was all right.
It was dark by the time I reached our flat. The emergency services had left and red tape criss-crossed the door, warning against entry, as though it was a crime scene. I quickly checked the walkway. There was no one around, so I ducked under the tape and used my key to let myself in.
The front door opened directly into a combined kitchen-living-dining area. I stood there for a moment, my shoes sinking into the sodden carpet, and took in the damage. The walls were black from soot and flames; the furniture destroyed by the water and foam used to extinguish the fire. The place was completely uninhabitable.
It was then that the hopelessness of the situation finally hit me.
I had no home and no job. And then, to top it off, in order to get April back I needed to get my mother sober. Maybe that sounded simple enough, but right then it felt as reachable as the moon.
So, feeling like I had no other option, I did something that I knew my mother wouldn’t approve of. I took out my phone and called Duncan Noble.
Tara Bond grew up in Surrey, England. She read history at Cambridge University, before working in various sensible office jobs. She lives in London with her husband, and loves reading and writing, as well as watching movies and TV box sets. Her guilty pleasures are cocktails and chocolate desserts.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Tara Bond
First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd in 2015
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First Atria Books ebook edition November 2015
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ISBN 978-1-4516-9690-5