his legs crossed out in front of him.
‘Listen, Pip,’ he said gently. ‘Someone just found Barney.’
Pip’s breath stuck halfway down her throat. ‘Wh-why don’t you look happy?’
‘He must have fallen in somehow. They found him in the river.’ Her dad reached down and took her hand. ‘I’m sorry, darling. He drowned.’
Pip wheeled away from her dad, shaking her head.
‘No,’ she said. ‘He can’t have done. That’s not what . . . No, he can’t be . . .’
‘I’m sorry, pickle,’ he said, his bottom lip trembling. ‘Barney died. We’re going to bury him tomorrow, in the garden.’
‘No, he can’t be!’ Pip jumped to her feet now, pushing Victor away as he stepped forward to hug her. ‘No, he isn’t dead. That’s not fair,’ she cried, the tears hot and fast down to the dimple in her chin. ‘He can’t be dead. It’s not fair. It’s not . . . it’s not . . .’
She dropped to her knees and sat back on the floor, hugging her legs into her chest. A chasm of unspeakable pain opened inside, glowing black.
‘This is all my fault.’ Her mouth pressed into her knee, stifling her words. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’
Her dad sat down beside her and tucked her into his arms. ‘Pip, I don’t want you to blame yourself, not even for a second. It’s not your fault he wandered away from you.’
‘It’s not fair, Dad,’ she cried into his chest. ‘Why is this happening? I just want him back. I just want Barney back.’
‘Me too,’ he whispered.
They sat that way for a long time on her bedroom floor, crying together. Pip didn’t even hear when her mum and Josh came into the room. She didn’t know they were there until they slotted themselves in, Josh sitting on Pip’s lap, his head on her shoulder.
‘It’s not fair.’
Thirty-Six
They buried him in the afternoon. Pip and Josh planned to plant sunflowers over his grave in the spring, because they were golden and happy, just like him.
Cara and Lauren came over for a while, Cara laden with cookies she’d baked for them all. Pip couldn’t really talk; every word almost stumbled into a cry or a scream of rage. Every word stirred that impossible feeling in her gut, that she was too sad to be angry but too angry to be sad. They didn’t stay for long.
It was evening now and there was a high ringing sound in her ears. The day had hardened her grief and Pip felt numb and dried out. He wasn’t coming back and she couldn’t tell anyone why. That secret, and the guilt in its wake, was the heaviest thing of all.
Someone knocked lightly at her bedroom door. Pip dropped her pen on to the blank page.
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice hoarse and small.
The door pushed open and Ravi stepped into the room.
‘Hi,’ he said, flicking his dark hair back from his face. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Not good,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘You weren’t replying and I got worried. I saw the posters were gone this morning. Your dad just told me what happened.’ He closed the door and leaned back against it. ‘I’m so sorry, Pip. I know it doesn’t help when people say that; it’s just something you say. But I am sorry.’
‘There’s only one person who needs to be sorry,’ she said, looking down at the empty page.
He sighed. ‘It’s what we do when someone we love dies; blame ourselves. I did it too, Pip. And it took me a long time to work out that it wasn’t my fault; sometimes bad things just happen. It was easier after that. I hope you get there quicker.’
She shrugged.
‘I also wanted to say to you –’ he cleared his throat – ‘don’t worry about the Sal thing for a bit. This deadline we made for taking the photo to the police, it doesn’t matter. I know how important it is to you to protect Naomi and Cara. You can have more time. You already overstretch yourself and I think you need a break, you know, after what’s happened. And there’s your Cambridge exam coming up.’ He scratched the back of his head and the long hair at the front trailed back into his eyes. ‘I know that my brother was innocent now, even if no one else does yet. I’ve waited over five years; I can wait a little longer. And in the meantime I’ll keep looking into our open leads.’
Pip’s heart knotted, voiding itself of