No Way to Say Goodbye - Anna McPartlin [101]
And it was there on the mountain that she admitted to herself what she’d long hidden in the deepest recess of her mind. I am an alcoholic. Tears swelled in her eyes and tumbled. Mary’s words and the Murphy girl’s imitation ran through her mind. Oh, God help me! She spent just over thirty minutes crying, then returned to the car. She cleaned her face with an old tissue she found in the glove-box and reapplied her eyeliner and some lipstick. Then she drove on to Killarney to purchase much-needed alcohol.
After all, alcoholics drank alcohol.
Mary didn’t get home until after ten p.m. Mr Monkels was scratching to get in and she opened the back door to discover the clothes-line on the ground, with the washing still attached to it. “Reaching for the stars or the birds?” she asked her dog, whose lowered head and disappearing tail were evidence enough to suggest that this mini-disaster was of his making. She was picking up her muddy clothing when she heard Sam’s door open. She had an armful of clothes when he peered over the wall.
“Hey.” He looked tired.
“Hey,” she reciprocated.
“Have you had enough space?” he asked candidly.
“Are you OK?” she asked, grabbing at a wayward sock.
“Not really,” he confessed.
“Come inside,” she offered.
He made his way over the wall.
“You could have used the front door.”
“This way is quicker.”
He followed her into the kitchen. She put the clothes back into the washing-machine and offered him coffee. He didn’t have time to answer before the phone rang.
Seconds into the call Mary’s face changed. Sam knew that something terrible had happened. When she hung up he demanded, “What?”
“I need your car.” She went straight to the door, grabbing her handbag and jacket on the way.
“Excuse me?” he said, following her outside.
“It’s Penny. She’s been in an accident.” Her voice was trembling.
“Is she hurt?”
“Yes.”
“How bad?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is she?”
“The mountain,” she replied, in a strangled whisper.
He headed into his house to pick up his keys. “I’ll drive,” he said, when he got back to her.
He sat into the driver’s seat and she strapped herself in beside him.
“Don’t worry, the emergency services will take care of everything,” he said, putting the car into gear.
“We are the emergency services.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We can’t call anyone – she’s drunk,” she said, and bit her lip.
“Is this wise?”
“I don’t know, but she’s my friend.”
Sam drove onto the mountain while Mary talked to Ivan, who agreed to meet them at the accident site. She hung up and tried Penny’s phone, but five minutes previously Penny had warned her that it was running out of juice. Her speech had been slurred and Mary wasn’t sure if it was from alcohol or a head injury. We need to get there.
Sam saw Mary’s fear – she was gripping her phone so tightly that her knuckles were white. “Calm down,” he soothed.
“Can’t,” she replied, staring straight ahead. I hate this fucking mountain.
“She’s fine.”
“We don’t know that.”
“She can talk – that’s a good sign,” he said.
“She’s crying. She says she’s bleeding.” The thought of her best friend abandoned and hurt made her well up.
“She’s really scared.” I should have been there for her. I should have seen this coming.
“You couldn’t have seen this coming,” he said, and she wondered if she had voiced the thought without realizing it.
“Is this rock bottom?” she asked, remembering Adam’s words.
Sam seemed to understand what she meant. “Only time will tell,” he said.
“We really need to get there.”
Minutes later they came across Penny’s car, smashed into the side of the mountain. The front was crumpled against a dying deer impaled on sharp rocks. Blood leaked from