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Afterwards - Softcover

Lupton, Rosamund

 
9780307716552: Afterwards
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0307716554 ISBN 13: 9780307716552
Verlag: BROADWAY BOOKS, 2013

Inhaltsangabe

"A GRIPPING NOVEL." —New York Times Book Review 

When her children's school is set ablaze, Grace runs into the burning building to rescue her teenage daughter, Jenny. In the aftermath, badly injured, Grace learns the police have identified the arsonist, but they have blamed the wrong person. Only Detective Sarah McBride, the sister-in-law Grace has never liked, is searching for the real arsonist--a hunt that becomes urgent when it's clear Jenny is still the perpetrator's target.
   Page-turning suspense combines with a beautiful portrayal of deep family bonds to make this a stunning and riveting read.

Now with Extra Libris material, including a reader’s guide and bonus content

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

ROSAMUND LUPTON lives with her husband and two sons in London. She is the author of the critically acclaimed New York Times bestseller Sister.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

1

You were in your important BBC meeting this afternoon, so you won’t have felt the strong warm breeze—­“A godsend for sports day,” parents were saying to each other. I thought that even if a God existed, he’d be a little tied up with starving people in Africa or abandoned orphans in Eastern Europe to worry about providing free air-­conditioning for Sidley House School’s sack race.

The sun shone on the white lines painted on the grass; the whistles hanging around the teachers’ necks glinted; the children’s hair was shiny-­bright. Touchingly too-­big feet on small legs bounced on the grass as they did the one-­hundred-­meter dash, the sack race, the obstacle course. You can’t really see the school from the playing field in summer time—­those huge pollarded oaks hide it from view—­but I knew a reception class of four-­year-­olds was still in there and I thought it was a shame the youngest children couldn’t be out enjoying the afternoon too.

Adam was wearing his “I am 8!” badge from our card this morning—­just this morning. He came hurrying up to me, that little face of his beaming, because he was off to get his cake from school right now! Rowena had to get the medals so was going with him; Rowena who was at Sidley House with Jenny all those moons ago.

As they left, I looked around to see if Jenny had arrived. I’d thought that after her A-­level disaster she should immediately start revision for her retakes, but she still wanted to work at Sidley House to pay for her planned trip to Canada. Strange to think I minded so much.

I’d thought her being a temporary teaching assistant at seventeen was challenge enough—­and now she was school nurse for the afternoon. We’d gently crossed swords at breakfast.

“It’s just a little young to have that much responsibility.”

“It’s a primary school sports day, Mum, not a motorway crash.”

But now her shift was almost over—­with no accidents at all—­and soon she’d be out to join us. I was sure she’d be itching to leave that small stuffy medical room stuck at the top of the school.

I’d noticed at breakfast that she was wearing that red froufrou skirt with a skimpy top and I’d told her it didn’t really look very professional, but when did Jenny ever listen to my advice on clothes?

“Just count your lucky stars I’m not in bumsters.”

“You mean the jeans that hang around boys’ bottoms?”

“Yup.”

“I always want to go and give them a hitch up.”

She bursts out laughing.

And her long legs do look rather wonderful under the too-­short, gauzy skirt; and despite myself I feel a little proud. Though she got her long legs from you.

On the playing field, Maisie arrived, her blue eyes sparkling, her face one large smile. Some people dismiss her as slightly eccentric in her fun shirts (long sleeves a different pattern to the rest) but most of us love her.

“Gracie,” she said, giving me a hug. “I’ve come to give Rowena a lift home. She texted me a little while ago, said the tubes were up the spout. So Chauffeur-­Mum to the fore!”

“She’s getting the medals,” I told her. “Adam’s gone with her to get his cake. They should be back any minute.”

She smiled. “What kind of cake this year?”

“A chocolate tray-­bake. Addie dug out a trench with a teaspoon, and we took off all the candy and replaced it with soldiers. It’s a World War One cake. Which is violent but fits with the curriculum, so I don’t think anyone’ll mind.”

She laughed. “Fantastic.”

“Not really, but he thinks so.”

“Is she your best friend, Mum?” Adam asked me recently.

“Probably, yes,” I said.

Maisie handed me a “little something” for Adam, beautifully wrapped, which I knew would contain a spot-­on present. She’s brilliant at presents. It’s one of the many things I love her for. Another is that she ran in the mothers’ race every single year that Rowena was at Sidley House and came in last by a mile every time but didn’t give a hoot! She has never owned a piece of Lycra clothing and, unlike virtually every other mother at Sidley House, has never been inside a gym.

I know. I’m dawdling on that sunny playing field with Maisie. I’m sorry. But it’s hard. What I’m getting to is just so bloody hard.

Maisie left to find Rowena in the school.

I checked my watch; it was almost three.

Still no sign of either Jenny or Adam.

The PE teacher blew his whistle for the last race—­the relay—­bellowing through his loudspeaker for teams to get in position. I worried that Addie would get into trouble for not being in his designated place.

I looked back at the school, thinking surely I’d see them coming towards me any moment.

Smoke was coming from the school building. Thick black smoke like a bonfire. I remember the calm most of all. The absence of panic. But knowing it was accelerating towards me, like a juggernaut.

I had to hide. Quickly. No. I am not in danger. This terror isn’t for me. My children are in danger.

It hit me in the chest, full on.

There is a fire and they are in there.

They are in there.

And then I was running at the velocity of a scream. Running so hard that I didn’t have time to breathe.

A running scream that can’t stop until I hold them both.

Darting across the road, I heard sirens blaring on the bridge. But the fire engines weren’t moving. There were abandoned cars by the traffic lights blocking their path, and women were getting out of other cars just left in the middle of the road and were running across the bridge towards the school. But all the mothers were at the sports day. What were these women doing, kicking off their high-­wedged shoes and tripping over flip-­flops and screaming as they ran, like me? I recognized one, the mother of a reception child. They were the mothers of the four-­year-­olds coming to do their usual pickup. One had left a toddler in her abandoned SUV and the toddler was hitting the window as he watched his mother in this ghastly mothers’ race.

And then I was there first, before the other mothers because they still had to cross the road and run down the drive.

And the four-­year-­olds were lined up outside the school with their teacher, a neat little two-­by-­two line; and Maisie was with the teacher, with her arm around her, and I saw how shaken the teacher looked. Behind them black smoke poured out of the school like a factory chimneystack, staining the summer-­blue sky.

And Adam was outside—­outside!—­by that bronze statue—­and he was sobbing against Rowena and she was holding him tightly. And in that moment of relief, love flooded out from me not only onto my boy but onto the girl who was comforting him.

I allowed myself a second, maybe two, to feel gut-­wrenching relief for Adam and then I was looking for Jenny. Bobbed blond hair, slender. No one like Jenny outside. From the bridge the sirens wailed.

And the four-­year-­olds were starting to cry as they saw their mothers, running full tilt towards them down the drive, tears streaming down their faces, arms outstretched, waiting for that moment to hold their child.

And I turned towards the...

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Verlag
BROADWAY BOOKS
Erscheinungsdatum
2013
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0307716554
ISBN 13 
9780307716552
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
415
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