Page 46 of Her Last Breath

The Ed in these reports was a boy of concern. He was failing classes, was being called out for being argumentative and rude to his teachers. His form master was particularly concerned about Ed’s change in behaviour. Jane didn’t remember this. In her head he was the model student, the polite, hardworking boy she could never measure up to.

Putting aside the reports, Jane carried on rummaging through the box. More pictures and then she found a letter. From St Peter’s High, saying Ed had been suspended for punching another student. The words swam in front of Jane’s eyes. She remembered the suspension, but Ed had laughed it off. He said he had battered some bullies, and she had loved her brother – no, idolised him – even more.

This letter suggested something very different, that it was an unprovoked attack by Ed, which had damaged this student’s nose so badly, he would likely need surgery. That was assault. She didn’t remember this side of her brother at all.

Thrown by what she had read, Jane sat staring at the pictures and documents around her. Had the dark place Ed was in manifested itself through his behaviour at school? Was this why he ended it all? Had something happened to make him become this person, or was he just a vile bully that she had unjustly put on a pedestal?

Jane sighed. The only person who could really help her understand what Ed had been going through was her mother. And she was going to be impossible to pick apart. But Jane knew one thing: she had to try, because she was running out of time.

Day Three

Chapter 29

Jane was feeling palpitations in her chest, worried she was having a panic attack. She had managed to snatch three hours asleep, before her alarm went off at 7 a.m., lack of a proper rest affecting her way more than she liked to admit.

The carers were finishing up in the kitchen by the time she had got ready and had her first cuppa. Madhu had prepared it for her. Jane found her mother laughing at something on breakfast TV when she went into the lounge to check on her.

‘What’s so funny?’ she asked.

‘They’re just showing when the weatherman fell into the water. Remember? He was on a giant map?’

Jane didn’t but nodded anyway.

‘How are you feeling this morning?’ she asked breezily but sounded like a fraud even to her own ears. The confusing words from Ed’s report cards were snaking around in her head, along with Father Walsh’s comments about Melody and her mother both being widows. The latter she wouldn’t broach, but she needed to know about Ed.

‘I have a sore throat,’ Maeve said. ‘And this constant headache.’

‘Shall I ask Dr Sandler to drop by?’

‘No, no. Just get me some of those sweet things. Stressils.’

‘Strepsils.’

‘Yes. Cherry flavour though.’

‘You sure you want to go there again?’

‘I was not addicted.’

‘Mum, you drank a litre-bottle of cherryade every single day for a week.’

‘It was your father, he just blamed me.’

‘Dad liked beer, not pop. The number of times you sent me to the corner shop to return the refills.’

‘Don’t exaggerate. Do they do it anymore? Get me a small bottle if you find one.’

‘Sure, anything else?’ Jane said, laughing.

‘No. And tell Lorraine to ask the doctor if he can increase the painkiller dosage.’

‘I’ll speak to him myself.’

‘No need, I have Lorraine to do it.’

‘That’s not her job, Mum.’

‘You’re paying her, aren’t you? She can do what I tell her. I’m not wasting your hard-earned cash. You were always so careless with money.’