I catch my breath as a possible scenario plays out in my mind. Martha and Hannah might have been pushed in front of the car. Who would do that? Who would purposefully put a child’s life in danger? Attempted murder, nothing short of it.
I need to speak to Martha.
‘Clare, darling, you’re awake.’ My mother strides in through the doors and is hugging me before I even have a chance to say hello. ‘How are you? I came down to see you in the night, but you were sleeping. The nurse told me you would be okay.’
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Apart from this.’ I give a nod towards the cast on my arm. Then I look up at my mother. ‘I didn’t do it on purpose, Mum. It was an accident. You do believe me, don’t you?’
‘Of course, I do,’ says Mum. I see the pain in her eyes. ‘I just can’t understand why you were driving like that.’
I think about explaining that I was frightened for everyone’s safety. Frightened of what Martha would do, but I stop myself. If Luke doesn’t believe me, there’s even less chance Mum will. ‘I don’t know,’ I say feebly. ‘How’s Alice?’
Mum perches on the edge of the bed and holds my hand. ‘Not good,’ she says. She’s dosed up with morphine at the moment.’
‘She’s not unconscious or anything like that?’
‘Drifting in and out of a heavy sleep, the doctor says. She hasn’t said anything, though when she wakes up it’s like she’s only half awake. I don’t know …’ Mum’s voice cracks a fraction. ‘I don’t know if she even understands what we’re saying. She just looks at us and then looks away.’
‘It’s probably just the morphine,’ I say, wanting to comfort my mum. ‘What have the doctors said about any long-term prognosis?’
‘The brain’s a wonderful thing and sometimes just needs a bit of recovery time. They’re monitoring her closely.’ This time Mum’s eyes fill with tears and she dabs at them with a hanky she produces from her sleeve.
‘What were Alice and Hannah doing down by the gate?’ I ask tentatively.
‘I don’t know. I thought she was in the living room talking to Leonard.’
‘What was he doing there so early?’
‘He’d popped over with some forms for me to sign,’ says Mum vaguely. ‘I think he wanted to catch you before you went into work.’
‘He could have just phoned. And why didn’t he send the forms home with me? It’s all a bit odd, don’t you think?’
‘No, I don’t think, as it happens. Leonard’s entitled to come over when he sees fit. He doesn’t need security clearance from you. Why don’t you ask Leonard yourself when he comes? I’m starting to wonder about your sanity.’ Mum stands and strides over to the window. I can see her shoulders heave up and down as she reins in her anger.
‘Mum, I need to ask you something.’
She turns and looks at me. ‘Don’t. Don’t ask me anything. I’m not up to it.’
‘Mum, please …’
‘Now’s not the time.’ Mum looks towards the door. ‘Oh, there’s Leonard. He wants to speak to you.’ And then she’s striding over to the door and calling Leonard in.
‘Hello, Clare. Good to see you awake and sitting up.’ He kisses my cheek and I make an effort not to flinch from his contact. Somewhere in the back of my mind the thought is lurking that Leonard was with Martha and Hannah when I drove in. I don’t know what this means, but it’s unnerving me. ‘Tom sends his love. Says he’ll come and see you soon.’
‘Thanks,’ I mutter.
‘Now, I’ve had a word with both the doctor overseeing you and the police investigating the accident. Basically, I’ve managed to hold the police off from questioning you for another twenty-four hours. If, for any reason, they do turn up, you know your rights; you’re not obliged to say anything without legal representation.’
‘I know,’ I say impatiently. ‘But I am my legal representative.’
‘No. I’ll be that,’ says Leonard, waving away my protests. ‘You’ve sustained a head injury. You’re in no state to reliably represent yourself.’
‘Listen to Leonard, he knows what he’s talking about,’ says Mum. ‘I need to get back to Alice.’ She exchanges a look with Leonard that I can’t quite decipher and as she gets up, Leonard moves the chair back from her, his hand momentarily touching her elbow as she steps past him. In that second I have an epiphany. I don’t know why it has never occurred to me before, but Mum and Leonard are obviously more than just friends.
The next thought hits me right between the eyes.
I watch my mother leave the room, Leonard’s gaze following her. He turns and looks at me. Then looks back towards the door as it swings shut.
‘How long has it been going on?’ I ask.
I’ll give Leonard his due, he doesn’t try to deny it or make out he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. He just sits in the chair. ‘A long time,’ he says.
‘And you never thought to tell me.’
‘Your mother didn’t want to.’
‘Why?’
He eyes me appraisingly and then speaks. ‘You know why.’
I shake my head. It hurts to do that. I close my eyes instead. I run my thoughts through my mind in some sort of order.
‘He didn’t take me because I wasn’t his daughter,’ I say finally and look at Leonard, who gives a small dip of his head in confirmation. ‘He thought I was, for a long time. I mean, he stayed with Mum and they went on to have Alice. So, it wasn’t until after Alice was born that he realised.’
‘You should really be speaking to your mother about this.’
‘She won’t talk about it. So it looks like I’ll have to speak to you … as my father.’ There I’ve said it out loud. It’s as if I’m having some sort of out-of-body experience. This is such a weird scenario, but then again, the last few days and weeks have been pretty weird. Leonard looks down at his hands and, for the first time, I see a man who is unsure of himself. I’ve never seen this trait in him before. ‘Didn’t you want me? Is that why Mum stayed married to Patrick?’
‘No. Don’t ever think I didn’t want you, Clare,’ Leonard says with such force that it makes me jump. ‘It was your mother who didn’t want to tell him. It was complicated for both of us.’ He runs his hands through his hair. ‘Your mother should be telling you all this, not me.’
I do a quick maths equation in my head. ‘Were you married at the time?’
‘Yes. To my first wife. Well, technically married. We were on the brink of divorce.’
‘This is actually freaking me out a little.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘No you can’t. You have no idea how I feel.’ I surprise myself at the snap in my voice. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with an anger I didn’t see coming. ‘You’ve always known. It’s not a surprise to you. Although, surprise doesn’t even begin to cover it.’
‘I’m sorry, Clare. This is not how I wanted you to find out.’