You can’t lie in bed all day.’ ‘Mum, just leave me alone.’ ‘Hollie’s been on the blower wondering where you are.’ Mum was drawing up the venetians. The midday sun streamed in, fierce and burning. ‘Don’t do that! I’m really tired, OK? Just get out.’ I shoved my head under the pillow and waited for Mum to scat. My chest ached under a heavy weight, as if a huge black crow was sitting on my ribcage. Blurred visions from the night before crammed my brain: The Asian chick. The orange jumper. Bourbon. Pot. Vomming in the marigolds. Lying down dead on the road. And then Danny, turning up out of nowhere like he was Scott’s long-lost mate. Did that really happen? But thinking just made my hangover worse. ‘Are you upset about something? What happened with Scott?’ Mum plonked down on the edge of the bed, her soft hip squashing up against my backside.
