What You Left Behind by Samantha Hayes

a good chap.” The voice was loud and superior and seemed to be dealing with another man’s behavior.
    “Oh look, it’s Sonia and her family,” Lorraine said in surprise.
    “Stop gawping,” Jo said sharply. “They’ll see us.”
    “Don’t you want to say hello?”
    “Not really. I don’t feel sociable.”
    Lorraine tried to catch Sonia’s eye, and wondered whether she should go over. She could find out if there had been developments with the stolen laptop. But Jo had hold of her sleeve and was staring at the exit.
    “Maybe we should get a takeaway from the Indian in Wellesbury. I can tell the service here is going to be slow tonight.”
    “Are you trying to avoid them?” Lorraine waved her hand at the barmaid, who came straight over. “A Diet Coke, please, half a cider, and … what are you having, Jo?”
    “An orange juice, please.” She sighed. “I’m not avoiding anyone. I’m just feeling a bit antisocial. I’m upset about Freddie.”
    Lorraine nodded, patted her sister’s arm. Even as kids she’d always been the one to take control, the one to bail Jo out of impossible scrapes or provide a shoulder to cry on. Perhaps it was knowing that she was only a step or two behind, waiting, watching, that had given Jo confidence. The overall effect was that she’d grown up rather reckless, though she still had a ton of friends, and was the one their mother had always favored. Why, Lorraine didn’t know to this day. It felt to her as if she’d been born her sister’s minder.
    She took the first tangy mouthful of cider, enjoying the summery taste. They found where Stella was sitting, joined her, and began to relax, although Jo was still subdued.
    Stella offered her chips around, then put several in her mouth. “It’s nice here,” she said between chews. “The menu looks delicious.”
    “Did you see the specials board over there?” Lorraine said, pointing.
    Stella looked across the crowded room, then froze. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a gasp. “It’s that nasty man, Gil,” shewhispered, putting the chips on the table and hugging her arms around her body.
    Lorraine twisted in her chair. Stella was staring right at Sonia’s table.
    “You know,” Stella pressed on when no one responded, “the one who shoved me. Just before Freddie told me about the kids who’d been killing themselves.”
    “Ki d ,” Jo said, stressing the singular of the word. “Look, Stell, one local lad took his own life last month, on a motorbike. It was really sad. But it’s got nothing to do with what happened eighteen months ago, which is what Freddie’s probably talking about.” She swirled her drink around, clinking the ice cubes.
    Lorraine was heartened by Jo’s sensible statement.
    “What do we all fancy to eat then?”
    “Freddie said that man isn’t all there,” Stella said, ignoring her mother’s question and tapping her head. “He’s the one who lives in that old tact room. It looks haunted if you ask me.”
    “Tack room, I think you’ll find.” Lorraine tried not to laugh. “And no one is asking you, are they, sweetheart?” She pointed at the menu. “Look, steak and ale pie. Your favorite.”
    While Jo and Stella studied the menu, she couldn’t help another look at Sonia’s family, and more especially her husband. Lorraine had spotted his good looks when they were at the bar, although he’d got his back to her now. His sandy-colored hair was endearing, the way it brushed at the collar of his blue oxford shirt, and she’d already noticed the way it flopped down over one of his strikingly green eyes, and how he kept brushing it aside. His broad shoulders, straight and square, stretched beneath his slightly crumpled shirt, making him seem as if he’d had a hard day at work. He didn’t turn round.
    There was a girl with them too, about the same age as Freddie—Lana, Lorraine guessed. She was also very attractive, the kind of looks that would garner a second glance even if she