If I Were You

Chapter 66 Flynn

‘Where we be to then?’ My mouth snaps shut as Trish looks at me.

Be casual, Flynn, you’re being Amy, not a West Country farmhand. The trouble is, my insides are leaping around since Amy hinted that her mum is about to reveal something to me. I shouldn’t be the one here.

‘Are you alright, Amy darling?’

I nod, not trusting myself to say more.

Fortunately, she’s distracted by the setting as we leave the lawn and make our way into the long grass and on to a pathway through the woods. ‘Oh, isn’t it bliss.’

Reggie races ahead of us, tongue out, every now and again twisting back with a delighted bark as if to tell us, ‘Look, guys! Summer is here! Isn’t it marvellous? Isn’t the world a magical place!’ No dog could look happier.

The wood is full of bright green leaves making dappled marks on the twisting path. I look about and choose something Amy might comment on, ‘Nice … bark,’ I say, stroking a nearby tree trunk.

Trish gives me a sideways glance and moves on.

‘So,’ I cough, feeling the weight of what Amy asked of me heavy on my shoulders, ‘how are you?’ Great start, Flynn. Small talk. Trying to break a lifetime of avoiding conversation is not going to be straightforward.

‘I’m well,’ Trish says, reaching to link arms with me once more. I feel instantly more connected to her. I wonder what Karim would think if I started asking to link arms with him? Why don’t men do this? Why are we not allowed?

Moving together makes the strip we’re walking narrower; my calf brushes up against the long grass that lines the pathway. The long skirt snags on a bramble bush.

‘Balls,’ I say, hearing a slight tear, ‘Amy’s going to be pissed.’

‘Have you started referring to yourself in the third person, love? Very regal.’

‘Hahaha.’ The laugh doesn’t sound genuine.

I think I just need to dive in, get this over with. I take a breath, ‘Look, Trish, I mean, Mum, the thing is I’m a bit worried. About you. I know you’re keeping something from Laura and me and, well, I was hoping you might share what that is?’

‘Oh,’ Trish says, clearly taken aback. ‘That is … well, that is getting to the point.’

Normally I might ruin the moment with an ill-timed joke or a remark that would let her off the hook, but I need to do this for Amy. She deserves to know what’s going on with her mum, so I press my lips together and wait.

‘Let’s sit down, shall we?’ Trish suggests.

There’s a clearing a little way along and she leaves the path and walks across to a large fallen tree trunk, its moss-covered bark making the ideal spot to sit and talk. Around us insects chitter and the sunshine breaks through, lighting up an array of bright yellow and greens. Trish closes her eyes and breathes it all in, her face peaceful as I wait.

‘I wasn’t going to tell you this weekend. I know there’s no way you’ll be able to keep anything from Laura and I didn’t want to upset either of you when this is about love and celebration. It’s her big wedding and I don’t want anything to spoil it.’

My breath is caught in my chest as she reaches for my hand on the tree trunk beside her.

‘Geoffrey told me to, of course. He thinks you’re both very strong, independent women, and of course I think that too, but to me you’re also my baby girls. The girls I held in my arms, the girls who wrapped themselves around my legs when they didn’t want to go to nursery, the girls who came running to me in tears if they needed a plaster, the girls who lost their father when they’d barely stepped into adulthood.’ Her own eyes film over and she pauses.

I steel myself.

‘I don’t want to hurt you any more than you already have been.’

What would Amy say right now? I think. ‘You couldn’t hurt us. Whatever you say, we’ll always know how much you love us.’

Mum smiles and gives my hand a pat. ‘You see, Geoffrey is right. And maybe you won’t miss me.’

Miss her? Reggie seems to sense my unease as I reach for the comfort of his fur.

‘What do you mean by that?’ I say, my voice steady, grateful for Reggie settling at my feet, shuffling up to me with a contented sigh in the long grass.

‘The thing is, Amy,’ Trish says, tucking a strand of my long hair behind my ear, ‘I had a scare last year. I found a lump and got tests done …’

My vision blurs.

‘I didn’t tell either of you. I couldn’t bear the thought of causing you additional pain when everything was fine. You’d already lost so much; I know how close you were to your father and how much losing him cost you. I’m sorry,’ she says, head dipping.

My brain is scrambling. This is it, then. This is big. Bigger than I think Amy realized. How will I tell her? How will I explain to her that she might have to prepare to lose another parent? Also, shouldn’t Laura hear this? This feels too colossal and suddenly I want to back-pedal. This feels wrong. I should not be the person she shares this news with. ‘Mum,’ I say, placing one hand on her arm, her expression still utterly morose. ‘Wait. If this is something that’s going to upset us then maybe you’re right – maybe we should wait and talk to Laura too?’

Trish picks at another bit of bark and nods miserably.

I scoot closer to her and put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Is that OK?’

She presses her hands to her eyes and lets out a little half-laugh. ‘Absolutely,’ then, sitting up and straightening her shoulders, she gives me a watery smile. ‘How about we both make sure it’s a really wonderful wedding for our girl?’

‘Good plan,’ I say, dread pooling inside me.

She reaches across and gives me a hug, her hair smelling of vanilla as Reggie leaps up at our movement.

She stands and I go to follow. ‘Hey,’ I add, catching her hand and linking her arm through mine like I’ve seen Amy do a hundred times with her mum. ‘You know whatever it is we’ll be OK? You’ve raised us to be pretty awesome humans, you know … like you …’

And I’m heartened that she laughs at that, despite my churning fear as we move out of the clearing, the sun lost above us in a canopy of leaves, the path back in shade. I hadn’t thought Amy really believed her mum was keeping something big from her daughters, that her secret would be a devastating one.

Just before she returns inside, I turn to her, take a breath. ‘And Tr— and Mum,’ I correct, thinking how easily these words should come to someone. I close my eyes briefly, ‘I love you, Mum.’

She presses her lips together and nods, eyes filling.

How am I going to prepare Amy for this?

All I do know is I must say something; I don’t want to keep any more secrets from her any more.

Reggie licks my hand and I’m grateful for his knowing look and the quiet way he is simply there for me.