Chapter 38
Flint and Ana drove together in a kind of numb silence.
Of all the places that the rollercoaster journey of the past few days could have taken them, this was the last one either of them could have possibly expected.
Ana’s brain boggled at the immensity of Bee’s confession, at the size of the secret that she’d been hauling around with her for fifteen years. It was unthinkable.
Flint put a hand on her knee and squeezed it.
She looked across at him and smiled tightly.
She felt like she was in another country, on another planet, in another universe.
Poor Bee. Her life in stasis. Never being able to move on.
Never being able to develop. Never being able to get close to anyone.
What must it have been like? Waking up every morning and knowing that there was no way forward.
Fifteen years of hopelessness. And not even being able to indulge her hopelessness.
Not being able to get drunk and moan about her life with her friends, not being able to go to counselling or buy a self-help book or watch people on chatshows talking about having the same problem as you.
No sympathy, no empathy, no outlet for her guilt.
Not being able to share it, with anyone.
It was a wonder she’d lasted as long as she had.
‘D’you want to come driving with me? Tonight?’
Ana looked at Flint and felt herself melt inside with gratitude. She nodded. ‘Yes, please. I really don’t think I could handle being on my own tonight with all this stuff in my head.’
‘I know exactly what you mean. You can stay at mine, too. If you want. Nothing untoward, you know. Just for the company.’
She nodded again, thinking that it was what she wanted more than anything.
The way she was feeling right now, she never wanted to leave Flint’s side again.
And then another thought occurred to her.
It was done. It was over. They’d found out why Bee killed herself.
There was no reason for her to be in London any more.
And the ties that had bound her to Flint for the past few days had disappeared.
What happened now? She felt her heart miss a beat with anxiety.
She swallowed and put the thought to the back of her mind.
She was with him now. She was with him tonight. That was enough for now.
Flint put on some music and Ana retreated into her own thoughts.
She fantasized about a world in which her mother had never gone to Gregor’s funeral and Bee had never kicked her out and her own relationship with Bee had developed and they’d eventually become friends.
And in her fantasy, she and Bee would get very drunk one night and start talking about life and regrets and the past, and Bee would suddenly start crying and Ana would ask her what was the matter.
Bee would refuse to tell her, but after a lot of patient coaxing would finally open up and tell her all about what had happened on that road in France.
And the two of them would hold each other and cry together – for Zander, for his family, for Gregor and for Bee.
And maybe then Bee could have started to move on.
Maybe just knowing that someone knew her secret would have made it easier to bear, even if she never told another soul.
Maybe then she’d have gone on with her life, resumed her music career, kept her friends, had relationships, found someone to spend her life with, had children, been happy …
And then Ana felt herself deflate as she admitted to herself that her fantasy was a load of old cobblers and that nothing in the world could have helped Bee to deal with the guilt of having wiped out an entire family and crippled a baby. Absolutely nothing.