Page 92 of One Step Behind
‘Goodbye, Mum,’ I say.
‘You need to leave,’ Trevor says, his voice a desperate whisper. ‘Oh love, it’s OK. Take deep breaths for me.’
I scurry to the doorway and watch as Trevor wraps his arm around Mum’s shoulders, whispering soothing words in her ear. Her gaze is still fixed on the point on the wall above the TV and I wish she would look at me just once.
More memories surface. The aftermath of the fire. Mum’s coma. The days of sitting by her bed, begging her to wake up. Then she did and I thought everything was going to be OK, but it wasn’t. She never came back.
The doctor called it a catatonic state. I can still remember his words. ‘While she looks awake, she’s in a state of stupor and is unresponsive to external stimuli. We don’t know if it’s permanent or if it’s something she may wake from one day. Your mum suffered cerebral hypoxia, which means her brain was starved of oxygen during the fire. This is the likely cause of her catatonic state and her seizures. However, it is also possible that her condition is the result of PTSD following the fire and she may get better in time. I’m afraid it will be a case of wait and see.’
I always thought she’d come back one day. I told myself this was her way of punishing us. I used to believe that if I just held her hand enough, if I could just keep talking to her, that she’d forgive us and wake up.
Trevor stands up and guides me towards the front door. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie. I know this must be hard for you, but you have to leave. You and Matthew triggersomething in your mum’s head, causing these seizures whenever you’re here. It could kill her one day. Please go, now.’ His eyes are moist, and for the first time I take in the grey pallor to his skin.
‘Thank you for taking care of her,’ I say, forcing out the words. There is more I want to say, more I should say to him, but I can’t. I may only just have realized how hard the last twelve years have been for Trevor, but they’ve still been harder for me.
I run from the house and into the road. A cool wind has started to blow through the trees. The sky is dark and threatening, like the memories I can no longer keep locked away. At the end of the road I pull my backpack to my chest and slow to a walk. Mum didn’t forgive me, but at least I said goodbye. There’s nothing else for me here. I have to leave before Matthew can stop me.
As I make my way back towards town my phone rings from inside my backpack. I pull it out expecting it to be Nick or the hospital. I’ve already disabled the Find My app, but I wouldn’t put it past either Nick or Matthew to find me anyway.
Instead, Rachel’s name fills my screen and I answer, telling myself there’s time for one more goodbye.
Chapter 55
Sophie, aged fifteen
There’s smoke everywhere. A thick grey wall of the stuff that she can’t see through. Where is it coming from?
Sophie’s eyes sting and she closes them for a moment, feeling her way along the wall. ‘Matthew?’ she croaks, her voice lost in a fit of coughing. She crouches lower to the floor as the insides of her lungs burn.
Something sharp bites her knee. She reaches to touch it and feels a sliver of glass poking out. She pulls it free and tries to keep going.
For a moment Sophie is lost. Is she upstairs or down? Which room is she in? Panic sweeps through her, freezing her muscles. She reaches out, hands banging the wall and the floor for anything familiar. Her fingers knock against a door knob. It’s small and round – the cupboard under the stairs where her mum keeps the cleaning stuff and the board games. She’s downstairs.
‘Matthew?’
She can’t see the fire but can feel the fierce heat of it pouring out from somewhere. Her skin tinglesand she can smell it burning, like it’s meat on a barbecue.
‘Matthew?’
She crawls on all fours, away from the source of the heat, trying to navigate her way through the house she’s lived in all her life. It feels like she’s trapped in a maze.
‘Help,’ she screams, spinning around. Which way? Everywhere feels so hot.
A huge bang sounds from behind her. She turns towards the noise just as a ball of orange fire leaps out at her. Sophie screams, pushing herself against the wall.
Her lungs burn. There’s no air left. Just fire and smoke and heat.
A strong hand grabs at her wrist and yanks her forward. She tries to stand and run herself but she’s moving too fast and her feet can’t find the floor.
Suddenly there’s a whoosh of air and Sophie can sense the open front door is just ahead of them. The fire is nipping at her bare feet and there’s a moment she thinks it’s too late. The fire is so big, bigger than anything she’s ever seen, and the heat is unimaginable. She can’t breathe. There’s no way she’ll make it out. But the hand on her wrist is gripping her tight and pulling so hard it feels like her arm is going to be ripped right off.
A second later and she’s outside. Sophie’s skin is burning and she doubles over coughing, but even so she can feel the cold dampness of the grass on her feet and the air soothing her lungs.
There’s someone beside her coughing just like she is. Sophie opens her eyes. The night air stings but she forces herself to look. ‘Matthew?’ she says, her voice a hoarse croak.
Lights flash. More people arrive. Neighbours in dressing gowns and slippers. Someone puts their arm around her, guiding her on to the street. Matthew still has hold of her wrist and she doesn’t want him to let go. A blanket is put around the both of them, and all they can do is watch the smoke pour out of their home.
‘Is there anyone still in the house?’ a voice yells at them.
