Read Online The Astonishing Return of Norah Wells by Virginia Macgregor - Free Book Online Page B

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    â€˜Ella hasn’t shown up.’
    â€˜What do you mean, Ella hasn’t shown up?’ Ella always shows up.
    â€˜I’ve been waiting for ages.’
    Norah brushes past Fay, picks up her trumpet case and heads to the door.
    â€˜Is Mr Mann there? Can he watch you until I get to you?’
    â€˜Yes, but come quick.’
    â€˜Good. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
    Another pause. Another sniff. ‘Mummy?’
    â€˜Yes my darling?’
    â€˜Is she there?’
    Fay’s chest tightens.
    â€˜The woman from this morning?’
    The surge of nausea comes back. Willa’s seen her?Fay grips the edge of the table. Adam. He must have seen Norah too. And he let her stay – then went to work like any old Friday?
    God, Norah’s been here for hours.
    â€˜Ella said she was no one. She said not to talk to her, but —’
    Fay takes a breath. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘She’s still here. I can’t talk now, Willa. Just stay where you are. I’ll be with you in a minute.’
    â€˜Can the No One Woman come with you?’
    Fay pauses. So it’s started. Norah’s only been back a few hours and already Willa’s slipping away. Her whole life is slipping away.

Norah
    It feels like they’re sitting in a truck: six seats, two screens for watching DVDs in the back, a boot big enough for a week’s worth of luggage – and Louis.
    â€˜Is this Adam’s car?’ Norah asks.
    Fay grinds the gears. ‘It’s the family car.’
    â€˜It’s big,’ Norah says, looking around.
    â€˜It’s safe,’ Fay replies.
    â€˜Safe. Right.’
    â€˜And it’s good for holidays,’ says Fay. ‘It’s easier to drive.’
    It’s what you choose a godmother for, isn’t it? To step in when there’s a family crisis. When a mum disappears. Norah had told Adam to let Fay help – she should feel grateful.
    â€˜So you help Adam out?’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜You help him look after the girls? The school run, that kind of thing?’
    â€˜You could say that.’
    â€˜Thank you.’ Norah feels the hollowness of her words. You say thank you when someone picks up your shopping, not when they look after your family for six years. ‘I’m glad they’ve had you, Fay.’
    â€˜Have.’
    â€˜Sorry?’
    â€˜They
have
me. I’m still here.’
    â€˜Right. Yes.’ Was there really a time when they could talk through the night, finishing each other’s sentences? Norah feels like she’s talking to a stranger.
    â€˜It must have been hard,’ Norah says. ‘For all of you.’
    Fay turns the car into Holdingwell High Street. She doesn’t answer.
    â€˜I’ve missed you,’ Norah says.
    Fay shakes her head.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜You can’t do this.’
    â€˜I only said I missed you.’
    Fay shifts gear.
    Norah has to take it slowly, give them time to adjust. She looks out at the town. Like a time warp, she thinks. A few more shops, maybe: a Costa, a Tesco Express, three mobile phone stores. But otherwise, nothing’s changed.
    â€˜So how have you been?’
    Fay shrugs.
    She looks at Fay’s ring finger. She’d often wondered whether her best friend had got married. Fay had always insisted she didn’t want kids; she said she spent enough of her time looking after other people’s children at the hospital. But a nice man to love her, to make her feel like she mattered – that wouldn’t be so bad, she’d said. But she’d never found anyone who lasted: they were all too much like her, sensible surgeons, lawyers, accountants all obsessed with their work. On the rare occasion that Fay had brought a date to the house for supper, Norah grilled him, letting him know that she wouldn’t let just anybody get into bed with her best friend. Adam would sit there, hunched over his beer,