Читать книгу Saving Sophie: A compulsively twisty psychological thriller that will keep you gripped to the very last page - Sam Carrington, Sam Carrington - Страница 28

She hadn’t made it to the bathroom. The vomit burst from her, barely missing Bailey as he chased along beside her, thinking it was a game. The poor dog had been completely neglected over the weekend. He sniffed at it. Karen shooed him away, rushing to the cupboard to get kitchen roll to mop it up. Out the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Sophie, who stood watching her.

‘You could help.’

‘Sorry, Mum.’ Sophie walked in and pulled a plastic bag from the container of carrier bags hanging from the tall cupboard door handle. Karen deposited the damp roll inside, retching as she did so. She noticed Sophie turn her head away, her face screwed up.

‘Sorry. Not pleasant first thing on a Monday, eh?’

‘Not surprised though.’ She smiled thinly, her eyes glossy with tears.

Karen took the bag from her. ‘I’ll clean myself up, don’t go to work yet, wait a bit, will you?’ It was a plea. Sophie nodded.

Karen allowed the coldness to refresh her; the water splashed over her face, droplets ran down her neck. It felt good. She grabbed her toothbrush and brushed her teeth, spitting out the remaining acid-sickly taste, then ran downstairs, hoping Sophie was still there.

She was.

‘How’re you doing?’ Sophie asked.

‘Honestly?’ Karen put her hand to her chest, taking in ragged breaths. ‘Not great.’ She fought to keep the tears at bay, knowing once she started there’d be an outpouring of all the emotion which had built up overnight. Sophie stepped forward, put her hand on her mother’s shoulder. Karen pulled her in, hugging her tight. When she released her grip, still close up to Sophie’s face, she saw puffy, red eyes.

‘What about you? How are you feeling about it all? Must be a massive shock, Erin’s always been in your life.’

Sophie opened and closed her mouth, shook her head and blew out a puff of breath. ‘Do you know, I don’t even know what to feel. That’s weird, isn’t it? Wrong?’

‘No, love, no.’ Karen touched Sophie’s cheek, brushed her thumb over it, taking away a fat tear. ‘I’m not sure how anyone is meant to feel. We’ll all go through it differently. The important thing is to keep talking. Keep sharing.’ Karen’s head cocked to one side. ‘Is there anything you need to share, love?’

Sophie pushed backwards. ‘No. Why do you ask?’

‘Sorry, it’s just you seem … I don’t know … distant, somehow. Like you have something on your mind.’

‘Yeah, I do. Erin is dead. She is on my mind.’

‘That’s not what I meant—’

‘I’ve gotta go. I’m late for work now.’ Sophie turned to leave, but Karen grabbed her arm.

‘Wait.’

‘What for, Mum? I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about.’

Karen squinted at her. ‘The fact you’ve said that makes me think there is something to worry about.’

‘No. Really not.’ The words sharp. Sophie’s eyes avoided hers. ‘Now you’d best get yourself sorted for your counselling, hadn’t you? Or are you going over to Rachel’s instead?’

Karen’s pulse skipped. Good ploy to take the attention off herself for sure.

‘I … I can’t go there. I’m not even sure I can make the session today. Your dad isn’t going to take me. I can’t …’ The usual dragging inside her stomach, the tightness in her chest, tingling lips.

Sophie sighed. ‘Where’s your bag?’

Karen pointed. Sophie picked up the paper bag from the worktop and handed it to her.

‘I’m sorry, Mum, I’ve got to get going. Sit and relax for a bit, then phone Dad. Go to one of them, either the counsellor or Rachel.’ She offered a sympathetic but firm smile. ‘You must go to one of them.’

Sophie’s heels clicked on the floor as she made her retreat, leaving Karen hunched, breathing in and out of the bag, eyes wide, pupils following her daughter’s journey out of the house.

Karen sat at the breakfast bar, slowly recovering her breathing, letting the natural rhythm of her heartbeat return. Her mind worked over it: Saturday night, Sophie’s behaviour, her words. As incoherent as she’d thought them at the time, her ramblings had continued to play over and over since the news about Erin. What does it matter she wanted to be Amy?

Rachel had been so shocked to find out Erin had dyed her hair over the weekend, had hair extensions put in. She’d resembled Amy, that’s why there had been the confusion over the identification of the body. The body of Erin. Found metres inside the wasteland near the industrial park. Also in close proximity to the nightclub. And the roundabout where the police had found Sophie.

She liked to think they had no secrets. They were close. Weren’t they? Sophie would confide in her if there was something to confide. Karen swallowed hard. But the uncomfortable lump of doubt had lodged itself.