Susan Weston was waiting when her daughter opened the front door. The four hours at work and the three hours wearing a line in the kitchen lino had done nothing to dampen her anger.

Susan had lost count of the times her daughter had brought the police to her door but this time was different. This time was serious.

‘Hey Mum, what?…’

‘What the hell did you think you were doing, Emma?’ she cried out as her daughter entered the kitchen.

Emma visibly paled. ‘What-what’s happened?’

‘And where have you been?’ Susan exploded. ‘You finished school an hour ago.’

‘I just went to check—’

‘Are you actually trying to get us caught?’ Susan cried, banging her hand down on the breakfast bar.

‘No… no… I just wanted to make sure…’

‘What if she’s watching you, eh? What if that copper or someone else is keeping an eye on you and watching where you go? Do you have any idea, any idea at all what could happen to us?’

‘Mum, I’m sorry,’ Emma said, moving towards her.

Susan backed away. She wasn’t done shouting yet.

Rarely had she lost her temper with her only child. Since Emma’s father had left seven years before they had become a team, unbreakable. They had grown even closer as they’d tried to make sense of their smaller family unit. And as she’d held her weeping daughter and explained that Daddy wasn’t coming home she’d vowed that she would protect her daughter for the rest of her days. And she had tried every day to keep that promise. And if that had shaped their relationship more as friends than parent and child she was paying the price now.

Because right now she was angry, frightened and more than a little disappointed, especially with what she had to say next.

‘And that copper saw you hit Jessie?’

Emma coloured, showing Susan that the police officer had been telling the truth.

‘Jesus Christ, Emma, what the hell were you thinking? Someone’s got it on camera. Why didn’t you tell me… before?…’

‘It’ll be okay, Mum, I promise,’ Emma said, taking her hand.

‘No, it won’t, Em,’ Susan said, as the fear clutched at her stomach. ‘You kept the damn phone. Why did you keep it in the house?’

‘Where is it?’ Emma asked, as panic widened her eyes.

‘That officer has it.’

‘You let her take it?’ Emma asked.

‘How the hell was I supposed to stop her?’ Susan screamed.

‘If she didn’t have no warrant she had no—’

‘Emma,’ Susan snapped. ‘It’s a bit late for that now. Is there anything on there that could hurt us?’

Emma thought for a minute and shook her head.

Susan thanked God for small mercies.

Her daughter pulled her chair closer. ‘Mum, it’ll be okay. It’ll all blow over and everything will be fine.’

Susan felt the rage seep out of her at the sheer naiveté of her fifteen-year-old daughter. So much older and yet so young too.

How the hell had she got involved in this in the first place? How had it come to this?

Emma looked at her, her eyes full of reassurance for her benefit and her mouth turned down in fear.

And that was why, she remembered.

Her daughter hadn’t known what to do and had asked for her help. And she’d said yes.

Susan took a deep and cleansing breath. What was done was done. There was no way back for either of them now.

‘That copper knows something is going on, Em. She’s gonna come back and when she does we’d better have our damn stories straight about what happened to Jessie on Sunday night.’