‘Adam Klein,’ Kitty repeated, feeling her muscles weaken. ‘I didn’t realise…’
It was so obvious as soon as Cesca said it. Of course he was Adam Klein. OK, so he’d grown a beard and for some reason was shooting deer and cutting wood with an axe, but there was no doubt he was the documentary maker she’d studied in her graduate course.
The scourge of criminals everywhere, Adam Klein was famous for his documentaries investigating drug cartels and human traffickers. His documentaries were perfect examples of how film-making could make a difference in the world, and half Kitty’s class had a crush on him.
And she’d asked him if his morning cereal contained piss.
Dear God.
‘Are you OK?’ Cesca asked her. ‘You look a little pale.’
‘It must be the screen,’ Kitty said, her voice thin. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’m absolutely fine.’
Later that night, she sat at the end of Jonas’s bed reading aloud from the book on her lap, imitating the voices to make him giggle. They were reading the first book in her favourite childhood series, and she was enjoying it as much as he was. It reminded her of her mother; the way the brilliant actress performed, rather than read, a book, making the stories come to life in young Kitty’s head.
Another thing she missed about her mother. She’d been missing it since she was ten years old.
As she came to the end of the chapter, Kitty slid a bookmark in and closed it up. ‘We can read some more tomorrow,’ she told Jonas, anticipating his disappointment. ‘It’s time for bed now.’ She leaned forward to hug him. ‘Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.’
‘Can we go sledding again tomorrow, too?’ Jonas asked, a yawn forcing his mouth open wide enough so she could see his tonsils.
‘I can’t, I have to drive to the airport to pick something up.’
‘What do you need to pick up?’ Jonas sat up, looking at her intently. Like any child, something out of the ordinary was enough to catch his interest.
‘Nothing special, just something I left back in LA.’ She smiled at him, being deliberately evasive. The fact was, Mia had texted to ask her to pick up Jonas’s gifts. She’d had them shipped from LA at a huge cost.
‘How can something catch a plane?’ Jonas asked, his eyelids starting to droop. ‘Surely someone would have to bring it on the plane with them?’
‘Sometimes you can put things in the hold of the plane, they don’t always need a passenger to carry them on for you. Now try and lie down, it’s getting late.’
Jonas did as he was told, falling back onto the mattress. ‘What’s a hold?’
Kitty pulled the blankets over his slight body, tucking them firmly around him. ‘It’s like the trunk of a car, except it’s in the belly of the plane. That’s where they store all your cases when you fly. They also put parcels and packages in there, and even some animals sometimes.’
‘And humans.’
She shook her head. ‘No, sweetie, not humans. They travel on the seats.’
‘Not always. Dead bodies go in holds.’
A shiver forced its way down her spine. ‘Who told you that?’
Jonas’s voice was thick. ‘I heard it somewhere. Uncle Adam nearly ended up in the hold, but in the end he wasn’t shot, so he came back in the plane.’
‘He did?’ She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. What should she say to something like that? She was flummoxed.
He nodded, his eyes finally squeezed shut. ‘Yeah, Dad said he was lucky.’
‘Yes, he was.’ She waited on the chair beside his bed until Jonas fell asleep, his blankets rising and falling with his regular breaths as he escaped into his dreams.
Leaving his bedroom, flicking the lamp out and the nightlight on as she went, Kitty turned to check Jonas one more time before she pulled his door softly closed. Then she turned to walk down the hallway to the stairs, and smacked straight into a tall, hard body.
‘Oh!’ She stepped backwards. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.’ In the gloom of the hallway, it took her a moment to realise who it was.
‘I was waiting for you,’ Adam told her. He leaned his head to the side, looking down at her.
‘You were?’ She swallowed hard. ‘Why?’