let out a laugh, and all the tension in my body dissipates for a moment.
‘It was, wasn’t it?’
‘Definitely.’
‘You trust me? To keep driving you?’
‘Well, I don’t know about that…’ he says. But he’s smiling. ‘Yeah, I trust you.’
The thing is, I don’t even know whether I trust myself anymore.
I look up again at the stars. If I’m going to be an astronaut one day – if I’m going to make it all the way up there – I’d better learn how to navigate things down here.
A low whine comes from the back of the car.
‘Oh God.’ I unbuckle my seatbelt and twist round to the back of the car.
Leda’s cowering in the footwell, her eyes two black, glassy pools. For once, she’s dead quiet. My binder and my telescope are wedged in beside her and Blake’s suit has flown off its hanger and is draped over her. The hat box is in the other footwell. It’s got a big dent in the side. I hope to god that the hat isn’t damaged.
I rip the suit off her body, pull her out of the footwell onto my lap, wrap my arms around her neck and let out a sob. Then I hold her away from me and inspect her. There’s a small cut on her ear – and on her nose too. Her whole body’s shaking and I can feel her heart hammering against her ribcage. I lean in and kiss the top of her head.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
She licks my face. Her tongue is so warm and familiar that my eyes well up and for the first time since Blake left her with me six weeks ago, I’m grateful that I’ve got her.
I hold her closer and look up at the sky. Where are you, Blake?
Christopher leans over and pets the top of Leda’s head in long, gentle strokes. I can feel her relaxing against me, her heart slowing down.
For a few seconds, neither of us say anything. Then I say, ‘Here.’
I place Leda on Christopher’s lap.
‘You look after her.’
Leda licks his hand and he leans over and kisses the top of her head, the soft patch between her ears.
‘Leda likes you,’ I say.
‘Leader?’
‘Yes, Leda. As in L-E-D-A. Jupiter’s thirteenth moon.’
‘Oh – right.’
‘It was found in 1974. The moon, I mean. I can show it to you if you like.’
God, I sound like a dork.
‘It’s a cool name.’ He pats her again, a bit more confidently this time. ‘Have you had her for a long time?’
‘She’s Blake’s. Like the car. Whenever he goes on tour, I get to babysit them. And I named her – obviously.’
‘Obviously?’
‘I like space.’
‘As in, outerspace?’
I nod.
Leda puts a paw up against Christopher’s chest and then paws at his glasses, so that he has to readjust them. Yeah, she definitely likes him.
Christopher shakes her paw like he shook my hand earlier.
‘Pleased to meet you, Leda,’ he says. ‘Officially.’
As I lean over and give Leda a stroke, my hand brushes Christopher’s bare forearm; electricity shoots through my body.
I notice Christopher’s cell light up; it’s been charging through the cigarette lighter. He grabs it and starts scanning through news pages. His breath goes jagged and he starts jiggling his leg.
I should ask him what’s going on, but I’m not ready to take in anything else right now. I want to get back on the road and drive. Focus on getting to the wedding. And anyway, if Blake’s turned up somewhere and is waiting for me to pick him up, he’ll call me.
I switch on the ignition and look across the road. It’s late so there aren’t many cars around. I pull out onto the road, do an illegal U-turn and then press down on the accelerator.
21.30 EST 1-81
My eyes are burning. After the adrenaline of the past few hours, it’s like my body’s gone into some kind of shutdown mode.
I look back at the road. A few seconds later, my eyes close. My eyelids are heavy and it takes all the energy I’ve got to blink them back open.
‘I think I need to take a break,’ I say.
Which is the last thing I want to do right now. I’ve got over 500 miles to cover before I get to Nashville – and, because of the eclipse, the traffic’s going to be really bad as soon as people hit the road tomorrow morning.
So, I should keep going.
But if I don’t take a break, I’m going to crash the car – really crash it this time. And then I’ll never make it to the wedding. If that happens, Mom and Jude won’t forgive me. It’s one thing our unreliable brother not showing up, it’s another for the always-show-up-no-matter-what-little-sister (the little sister who’s meant to walk in front of Jude scattering the petals of Mom’s heirloom roses) bailing.
I look over at Christopher. His eyes are closed so I guess he didn’t hear me.
I lean over and shake him gently.
He rubs his eyes and yawns.
‘We’re stopping for a break,’ I announce.
I notice a Mobil sign by the next exit and flick the indicator.
‘Can you lend me a bit more money?’ I ask. ‘For some gas?’
I swallow hard. I hate having to ask him, but I don’t have a choice. Well, I do have a choice. I could use the emergency credit card. But like I said, I’m not ready for Mom to find out where I am. Plus, she’ll get the email alert and then she’ll call and I’ll feel like I have to pick up and I’ll try to make up some excuse but she’ll hear it in my voice, that something’s wrong. I’m a crap liar.
‘I’ll pay you back.’
‘Sure,’ he says, getting out his wallet.
Once we’re parked and I’ve filled up the car, I take Leda to a patch of grass for a pee and then put her back in the backseat of the car.
‘We won’t be long,’ I say.
I
