The Paramedic's Daughter by Tara Lyons

Author:Tara Lyons [Lyons, Tara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2019-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

I haven’t moved from the same spot on my daughter’s bed for over an hour and a half. Sheetal’s footsteps pitter-pattered past the bedroom door a few times, even lingering outside for a few seconds. She never knocked or called out. Not even after a car horn honked outside, or before the front door opened and banged shut. Then I heard nothing more; the housemate had left for her family occasion, or whatever she’d said.

I’ve been alert since then, hoping to hear the sound of the door go again, so I could welcome Rose home.

But it’s been dead silent.

I let my eyes wonder around Rose’s room. Again. It’s so neat and tidy, everything in its place. Just the way she likes it. We’ve always joked that she’s Monica from the TV programme Friends. She’s been that way since she was a young girl. Nothing seems out of place, but how would I know really? After Rose moved in, I only saw the inside of this house, and her bedroom, one other time. If I ever did venture to Brighton – which wasn’t often, as Rose preferred to visit home, she said – we always met up at the station and went shopping or for lunch. I did notice her bed is neatly made, and considering the early hour in which I travelled down here, I can only assume Rose started her day just as early and is studying in the library.

Or she didn’t stay here at all last night.

I hate all this second-guessing. The not knowing. It’s driving me insane; I’m creating images and stories in my mind. You know the ones: son or daughter doesn’t answer the phone and it’s because they’ve drowned at the nearby beach; son or daughter doesn’t reply to your message and it’s because they’ve been beaten to death by a scumbag after their wallet or purse. Understand this: these images aren’t just coming from a neurotic mother who’s being ignored by her child, but also from a paramedic who’s come across some nasty things over the years.

The urge to go through drawers and wardrobes and read letters and notepads is overwhelming. Something is stopping me. I’m not sure what. Perhaps my consciousness has woken up and is telling me I’ve done enough shitty things – especially to Rose. I need to know if she is here somewhere – on campus, at the library or in a lecture – or if she didn’t stay here at all. I need to hunt down this Dylan guy.

My hand slips down to the bedside table and pulls open the top drawer. I close my eyes and sigh. Snooping is never a good idea.

I reach in and pull out Rose’s mobile. Why doesn’t she have it with her? This is probably an old one. Her phone contract has been upgraded since being in Brighton, surely?

After a few tries of the power button, it’s clear the phone is dead. That answers that, then. It is an old phone and she’s keeping it as a backup.

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