Chapter 31
31
TWO DAYS BEFORE HE LEFT ME
We arrive at Lynn’s. Lawn trimmed to within an inch of its life, gable-fronted house with windows that are reflecting the sun so brightly it’s a wonder it’s not setting off little fires everywhere. Cleanliness is next to godliness.
She opens the door, pulling Kit into an embrace the moment he crosses the threshold. My throat tightens. She never hugs James. Lynn pulls back, places a hand on Kit’s cheek, radiant in her love for her favourite son, her golden child.
‘Olivia,’ she announces, drawing me into her embrace. I lean down. Lynn is only five foot, incredibly slim and fit: all squash-playing sharp shoulders and elbows, brutal backhand. ‘So good of you to come.’
When Kit left, she was all warmth. She took care of me, packed my things, guided me to the car, took me home to my mum, to where she knew I’d be looked after. It was like she was pouring her love for him onto me.
‘Hi, Lynn.’ I smile, and pass her the bunch of flowers that we’d bought from the garage on the way .
‘How lovely, such unusual colours.’ She sniffs them and walks through to the kitchen.
‘Something smells nice,’ I say. Kit takes my coat as I take off my pumps, putting them in a neat pair by the door.
‘Oh, it’s nothing.’
Beef bourguignon and dauphinoise. I remember it being delicious.
I follow Kit into the lounge. This is where James and I had been standing when she told us to get out. The minute she saw him take my hand in his, as he told them we were a couple, is still scarred on my retinas; the look of disgust and the visceral hatred that had poured from her mouth was unlike anything I had ever experienced.
Alan is sitting in the armchair with a newspaper. I feel myself relax as I step into his embrace. I’ve missed him. He seems lighter, the lines around his eyes softer, the curve of his spine more fixed. Alan had tried to stay in touch with James once we got together, but James had pulled away. It would be easier for him, he would say, when I saw him ignore Alan’s name on incoming calls: Mum would never forgive him if she found out; it’s better for him to stay away. I’d bumped into Alan a few weeks back, shocked at the way he looked: greyer, shrunken. He’d insisted on buying me a coffee, had told me it was the least he could do. I’d told him about the wedding. He’d asked if we were happy, and I’d told him the truth that we were, but that we were sad he wouldn’t be there. He had seemed grateful for my time, wished us luck, asked me to tell James he was only ever a phone call away. Looking at him now, I wonder if it is just the loss of Kit that changed him so much, or the loss of James too.
‘Villa are having a good season.’ He jumps into sports talk with Kit, both of them all smiles and banter at their team’s performance. There’s a knock on the door and I hear Lynn striding along the hall. James’s voice rumbles through the walls, thrumming up my spine.
She follows him into the room, sharp-angled brackets around her smile. ‘Looks like he could make it after all. I just hope the beef will stretch.’
‘Jimmy!’ Alan pauses the conversation, the recount of the team’s last match half finished. He pulls James into a bear hug, landing his hands on James’s shoulders. ‘Of course there’s enough beef; you cook enough to feed an army!’ He rolls his eyes at the boys conspiratorially. They both sit down. James glances briefly at me then away.
‘Let me get you some drinks. What’ll it be?’ Alan claps his hands together.
‘I’ll get them. You boys catch up,’ I say with a smile, standing and leaving space for James to sit next to his brother.
‘Kit?’
‘I’ll have water thanks. Need to keep a clear head for tomorrow.’ He winks.
‘James?’ I ask, my voice tentative.
He meets my eyes. They’re shuttered, and his true feelings for me are kept locked away. ‘I’ll have a beer, thanks.’
I look away quickly. ‘Al? What are you in the mood for?’
‘A nice stiff whisky, to be truthful, but the lady of the house can’t abide the smell.’
‘Glass of wine?’ I coax.
‘Oh well, only if you insist,’ he replies with a wink.
I head into the kitchen. Lynn is at the island, snipping the stems of the flowers and arranging them in a vase.
‘They look lovely,’ I say as I approach the fridge. ‘You have such a way with flowers; I never know how far to cut them down.’
‘Thank you, dear, roses aren’t my favourite; they always have an air of something sinister about them, all those hidden thorns. ’
I open the fridge. She glances at me with a fleeting look of disapproval as I pull out a bottle of beer. ‘James, I take it?’ She shakes her head glancing at the clock. ‘It’s not yet five. Perhaps a cup of tea?’ Lynn takes the bottle from my hand and replaces it in the fridge.
‘Oh, let’s live a little,’ I say and she raises an eyebrow at my suggestion. ‘Oh, and Alan fancies a glass of red.’
Her responsive smile doesn’t meet her eyes, but she pulls out a bottle from the rack. ‘Well I suppose it’s got some health benefits.’
I pour a healthy amount in a glass. ‘Do you fancy one?’ I ask her, shaking the bottle a little. ‘Go on, it’ll put hairs on your chest.’
‘Well, that’s not quite the right phrase to convince me, but it will go with the beef. Thank you, Olivia, just a drop now.’
I pour a glass for myself and resist the urge to neck it in one go.
‘Kit’s after water. He’s got a work function tomorrow, needs to be on his “A game”.’
The pride on her face suggests I’ve just said he’s going to walk on water not drink it. ‘Here,’ she says opening the fridge and taking out a bottle of Evian, then she goes about slicing a lemon, flowers left dripping from the counter. I surreptitiously open the fridge again, take out a bottle of beer, twist off the top and carry Alan’s wine and the beer through. James’s fingers touch the tips of mine; he retracts the bottle quickly. Lynn is hot on my heels, passing Kit his water like a trophy. She does a second take at the bottle of beer in James’s hands; I feel a smug sense of satisfaction.
Dinner is frustratingly delicious and the conversation is easy-going despite James’s determination to barely acknowledge me. How exhausting loving me must have been for him.
‘That reminds me,’ Lynn says, placing her knife and fork in a neat line at the side of the plate. ‘Kit, I need your help with my new phone. It’s all gobbledygook to me.’
‘Sure,’ he says as she smiles back at him. They begin talking about the apps that she’ll need.
‘How’s the training going, James?’ Alan asks, leaning forward.
James chews a piece of potato. ‘Good,’ he replies.
‘Don’t talk with your mouth full,’ Lynn snaps. James stares at her, swallows, opens his mouth to show her the food is gone and continues. Kit hides a smirk behind his hand.
‘Good thanks, Dad. I need to get my weight up a bit, but I should pass the physical.’
‘When do you fight?’ Alan asks.
‘The NAC qualifiers start in a month.’
‘You’ll smash it,’ Kit says.
‘A little old to still be fighting at amateur level aren’t you?’ Lynn raises her eyebrow.
I look to her sharply. She doesn’t notice, just concentrates on slicing her beef.
‘There is nothing amateur about the way our boy fights,’ Alan cuts in. ‘This is going to be your year, Jimmy; I feel it in my bones.’
I swallow a piece of carrot with difficulty. James won’t go to the physical; he won’t ever get to professional level. He stops training for it once Kit leaves. All of his time was taken up looking for Kit and looking after me.
James is watching Kit closely throughout the meal, eyes darting back and forth. I pick apart everything that is going on around me: the way Kit is talking to his mum as he sets up her phone. There is nothing in his demeanour that hints at the catastrophic choice he is about to make.
‘You free tomorrow, Kit?’ James asks.
I look down at my plate, at the rich gravy mingling with the cream of the dauphinoise .
‘Ah no can do. Work gig. Team building, which usually means free booze and networking.’
‘Right. Where are you going?’
‘Hmmm?’ Kit says, filling his mouth with food.
‘The gig, where is it?’ James repeats.
Kit reaches for his glass of water, looking over at James. He puts the glass down. I stare it him. He frowns at me then sticks out his tongue as if this is all a big joke. Usually I would return the insult, but I don’t; I continue to stare at him. There is a slight shift in his body language. He rubs under his eyes then cuts another piece of meat. ‘Wales. I’m getting the train tomorrow, early doors. Monmouthshire.’
‘What’s the venue?’
He pauses. ‘Huh?’
‘The venue?’
‘Call of the Wild or something like that. One of those places where we’re all supposed to help each other across rivers and stuff. I’ll check the itinerary when I get back.’
Kit had told me there was mini golf, a clown with a mouth that kept getting the ball stuck. I feel myself frowning as James continues.
‘Fancy a run when you get back?’ James asks, focusing intently across the room at his brother.
‘Maybe, I’ll give you a bell when I’m on the way home.’
Pudding of apple pie and custard is eaten; playing cards and coffee are brought out. Lynn’s eyes fill with a spark as she wins at gin rummy, and at Kit’s laughter as he wins the next round. There is no hint of regret, no extra hugs and kind words to his parents.
‘James, will you put down your phone for just a minute? This is family time,’ Lynn says.
‘Actually, I’m going to make tracks. ’
‘Well, it was nice of you to drop by ,’ Lynn says, her focus back on the cards in her hand.
Alan gets up, pulls him into a hug. James drops an airbrushed kiss on Lynn’s head, nods at me, raises a hand to Kit, then leaves. My breath is rock-hard in my chest.
I stand up, leaving them to the games as I begin washing up.
‘Liv?’ James is back, his voice making the rock in my chest knock against my ribs. ‘Could you move the car forward a bit? Someone has sandwiched me in.’
‘Sure,’ I say, my voice overly keen. I dry my hands on a tea towel and ask Kit for the keys. He holds them back with a challenge and a glint in his eyes. I roll my eyes, kiss him and then he passes me the keys.
I follow James along the hall and step out onto the path, shielding my eyes from the setting sun. He turns on his heels. ‘There is no Call of the Wild venue in Monmouthshire.’
‘Maybe he has the wrong name?’
‘I can’t find anything that sounds even close to it.’
‘You’re sure?’
James puts his hands in his back pockets and looks down at his feet.
‘You think he’s lying?’
‘Looks that way.’
‘So where does he go?’
‘Beats me. Anyway…’ He pulls out the keys in his hand. ‘I thought you should know.’
‘Thanks.’ He nods and begins walking away.
‘James?’ I take a few steps forward.
A rush of winds scatters the remains of autumn leaves across the lawn, mixing with the daffodils beginning to open: the old circling the new .
I want to step closer to him, to put my hand on his shoulder, but I remain in the same spot.
Tears threaten again. He turns towards me, eyes scanning my face, the car door open. ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘For today, for everything.’
He meets my eyes, searching them briefly. ‘Can you save him?’ James asks. ‘Can you save my brother?’
‘Yes,’ I say even though I have no idea how. If I don’t save him in this timeline, I vow here and now that I will help him in the present.
He gives me a slight nod. ‘Keep your phone on. I’m going to see what I can find out and if I can’t find anything today… Call me tomorrow? Tell me again. I’m not going to lose my brother.’
‘Thank you.’ He taps the top of the car, climbs in and drives off.
He really doesn’t know.
James doesn’t know what Kit is planning to do.
But then I remember his words from the other night: there is only one reason I can think of, to protect him.
Does Kit ask him for help tomorrow?
The games are finished, and we all say our goodbyes. I analyse Kit’s actions. His farewell is brief, his eyes on his phone, distracted. As far as I know, this is the last time he will see his parents and yet there are no lingering hugs, no final last words, no sadness.
Kit pulls me close to him as we walk to the car, my head leaning against his shoulder as we walk away.
I tighten my hold on Kit’s waist, I need to save him, keep him safe.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket. A message from Ava.
What time are you getting here? If you don’t get a move on we’ll miss the trailers and you know that’s my favourite part.
I’d forgotten about tonight. I’d left early, didn’t stay for cards or pudding. I’d got a taxi and Ava and I had watched London is Falling and I’d made myself feel sick by having too much Ben and Jerry’s after the meal.
James didn’t come for dinner. I remember the beef, the flowers. James had sent a text to Kit asking if he wanted to go for a run. Lynn’s eyebrows rose at the fact he was free for a run but not for dinner with his family. Did they go for a run while I was at the cinema?
Kit lets go of me, waves to his family, his hand already tapping out something on his phone. No lingering glance as they stand in the doorway, Alan’s arms around his mother.
I look at Kit. I need to stick to him like glue for the rest of the evening. I reply to Ava telling her that I’ve got an upset stomach but to go ahead and spend the night with Gerard Butler without me.
As Kit drives us home, I think about James and my suspicions that he must have known Kit was alive. But I know now that he had no idea, at least not today.
Kit reaches for my hand, holding on to it even as he shifts gears. He smiles, brings my hand to his mouth before frowning in the rear-view mirror.
I hear the crunch of metal on metal.
Our bodies slam forward against our seat belts; Kit’s foot hits the brake.
The car swerves, clipping up a kerb, coming to an abrupt halt. Kit’s instant reaction is to check me .
‘Are you OK?’ He unbuckles his belt, leaning across me. I’m breathless, but unharmed. ‘Liv?’ His voice and hands are shaking.
‘I’m fine, I’m…’ And then I see the car that has just run us off the road. A blue BMW: K8N WYT1
‘You sure?’ Kit continues. I nod, unable to reply.
The tail light of his car had been smashed. Kit had told me he’d reversed into a lamp post.
Another lie.
He didn’t reverse into anything. I wasn’t in the car with him when this happened; I was safe on the way to the cinema. Kit hadn’t been shook up when I got home; he laughed about being such an idiot. Laughed, brushed it off, said he’d get it fixed next week.
He didn’t tell me that Kane, the double-glazing salesman, had run him off the road.
The flickering of fire is back in my stomach, the breath held in my lungs to stop it igniting.
What did you do, Kit?