looked surprisingly professional, particularly after having spent the last two months either in uniform or wrapped up in woolly jumpers and thick tights, even through the Highlands spring.
She had brought her overnight bag; she was coming back on the night train, which she was rather excited about; it stopped just up the road from Kirrinfief and was patently the best way to get there, even if it was expensive.
All she had to get through was the trial.
Her heart was beating hard all the way to the airport. Being in Scotland had felt safe, protected, away from everyone else. Not having to face what had happened. There weren’t any teen gangs in Kirrinfief, at least not that she’d heard of. Children ran around practically free range, something that had surprised her when she’d first noticed it, but then realized that everyone knew everyone in their small corner of the world; their children were everyone’s children. It was nice, to see children playing in the streets and down on the little shore and not have to worry about them.
As the little twin prop plane burred its way down the length of the country, Lissa looked at the patchwork fields through the window, unable to concentrate on the book Nina had pressed on her, worrying more and more about coming face-to-face with Kai’s family again. Would they be mad at her? Would questions be asked about that dreadful night at the hospital? No complaints had ever been filed; nothing had happened to her except the secondment, and that hadn’t ended up feeling like a punishment, not at all.
Maybe, she thought, it would be straightforward, would take two minutes. And there would be . . . the Loch Ness monster. She bit her lip. It was nice of him, that was all. And no doubt he wanted to cast an eye over the person who’d been sleeping in his spare room, would be trying to work out whether she’d killed all his plants or broken his fridge. At least he probably knew she hadn’t exactly been having wild parties.
Then another two weeks to pack up and then . . .
Well, she’d think about the future when she had to. She had had a little fantasy, it was true, of possibly renting the guest room, if he was keen—imagine living somewhere where you could afford to have a spare room on an NHS salary! It still beggared belief. A fantasy of finding a job nearby. Maybe not what she was doing, but there must be something. Of, dare she say it, escaping once and for all. The pressure and the racing and the craziness of the city. Just turning her back on it. Leaving the new restaurants and the high heels and the hot new thing to other people. People who got more out of it than she did. People who wouldn’t be constantly worried every time they heard an ambulance whoop, sirens go off, or a helicopter pass overhead.
She blinked. She had barely slept and the drone of the engines was making her want to drop off (everyone else was comfortably snoozing), but every time she came close to doing so, she remembered, yet again, what the day was for, and bolted back upright again.
SOUTHWARK CROWN COURT was a squat, ugly brown 1980s building, put up by someone who had obviously taken their inspiration from a supermarket. It was faceless and bureaucratic, neither terrifyingly grand nor trying to be welcoming. It simply was. Lissa supposed in some way that was the point.
It was boiling. A damp, oppressive heat. Lissa couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so hot. She was wearing far too many clothes, it was ridiculous. She pulled off her large coat and jammed it on top of her wheelie bag, making it unwieldy and hard to get past the crowds on the tubes. She’d forgotten about those too. So many people! How did anyone get anywhere? And could she really have forgotten about this in such a short space of time? She felt herself begin to sweat. This was the last thing she needed, to look damp and flustered.
Roisin—short, businesslike, and dressed in a smart black suit and heels that looked like absolute torture to march about in all day—met her at the side entrance. People were milling around and Lissa was anxious, concerned about seeing the boy’s mother again, jerking back to the memory of everything that had happened before, again and again.