Chapter 14
Emma
Emma, love, could you give me a call at lunchtime?
Every time I read Mum’s message, I hear her voice in my mind.
She sounds worryingly serious—after all, why should she want me to phone in the middle of the day?
We generally speak in the evenings, and it’s always spontaneous.
Mum calls me, or I call her, and either the other person answers or they don’t.
But this is weird. I immediately find myself thinking about the time she rang to tell me she was stuck in Nice and wouldn’t be able to fly to Edinburgh with me.
All the way through maths and history, it’s like I’m sitting on hot coals, and I wish I could fast-forward through time. I tell Tori and Olive I’ll catch up with them at lunch and sigh with relief as they head for the dining room without asking any questions.
I pull my phone out of my bag and head in the opposite direction, outside. I sit on a bench in the little inner courtyard and dial Mum’s number.
She answers in two rings. “Emmi-Mouse?”
“Hi,” I say.
“Where are you right now?” she asks.
I blink up at the sun, high above me in the sky. “Out in the courtyard.”
“Oh, that’s nice. Is the weather good? I saw—”
“Mum,” I say, and she falls silent. “Why did you want me to call you?”
I hear her sigh. “I’m so, so sorry, Emma, but I had to fly to Madrid at short notice,” she says, and my body goes numb. Not all at once, but slowly. Like the meaning of her words has to work its way through me. From my fingers gripping the phone, to my wrists, to my shoulders . . .
I don’t speak. I just wait for her to carry on.
And then I’ll get a flight from there to Edinburgh tomorrow evening.
I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to be a bit later than we originally planned.
But she doesn’t. What she actually says is “It’s an important client.
And unfortunately, I’m going to have to work through the weekend here. ”
“So you’re not coming?” I ask, even though that’s exactly what she just said.
“I can’t make it, Emma. I really am sorry. One of my colleagues was meant to be here instead, but he’s in the hospital, rushed in for an emergency operation. And nobody else knows the case as well as I do. But I can probably wangle the weekend after next off instead and . . .”
Mum’s still talking, but I’ve stopped listening to her.
It’s perfectly clear. She’s not coming. She has to work, and I can’t even be pissed off about it, because some guy’s in hospital, and that would be heartless. And I’m not heartless. Quite the opposite. I’ve never felt my heart as clearly as I do in this moment. Because it’s aching.
“Emmi?” Mum says. “I get that you’re cross . . .”
“I’m not cross,” I manage. Just disappointed . . . And confused and alone, and Isi was kissing Noah. Normally I’d tell her about it, but what’s the good of that when Mum won’t be with me this weekend now? And I don’t want to cry on the phone. I can do that on my own in my room.
“I’m really, really sad about it too,” Mum says. “I was so looking forward to it. The weather’s meant to be great.”
Pull yourself together.
Say something.
Anything.
“But then it wouldn’t be the authentic Scottish experience.” I don’t know why Henry’s words should be the first that come to mind. They’re just there.
“Yes, that’s true,” Mum says. I can hear the smile in her voice and suddenly my eyes start to sting. This is the problem with people, and with looking forward to the things they promise you. It just makes for unnecessary pain if you believe them. I know that, yet I still keep falling for it.
“I feel awful,” Mum says. “Everything happened so fast this morning. Sometimes I hate this job.”
“Yeah, but you love it too,” I remind her. “And it’s not as bad as all that. You can just come another time instead.”
“Will you do something nice this weekend anyway?” asks Mum. “With your new friends, maybe?”
I think about Tori, who’s going home, and Olive, who definitely won’t have time for me. “Sure,” I say all the same. “We might go into Edinburgh.”
“Oh, yes, do that, definitely. I’m sure they know their way around much better than I do these days, but the café in Waterstones always used to be one of my favorites.”
“I’ll suggest it.” I clear my throat. “I have to go to lunch.”
“Shall we speak later this evening? Or how about a Grey’s Anatomy watch party?”
Despite myself, I can’t help smiling. “Yeah, let’s see. I’ll message you, OK?”
“Fine, Emmi.”
We say goodbye, and once I’ve hung up, it really is hard not to burst into tears. Mum isn’t coming to visit. It’s not the end of the world, but I’d been looking forward to it. A lot.
“Hey, Emma!”
I close my eyes for a moment, then look around.
“Have you had lunch?” Grace asks. She was walking with a small group, but she’s stopped while the others are walking on.
“No, not yet.”
“Come on, then!” She beckons me over. When I hesitate, she adds, “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, fine,” I say hastily, grabbing my bag. I hope she can’t see that I was on the edge of tears. I have to keep acting like nothing’s wrong. Distraction. Talk to people. It’s really not hard. “I was just on the phone to my mum.”
Grace and I talk, but I don’t really know what about. Our next training session, school stuff. She’s nice, the way she’s always nice, but today I don’t even have the headspace to feel guilty around her.
The dining room is full of voices, laughter, and the quiet clatter of cutlery. Most people are already sitting down, so we don’t have to queue for long at the hatch. I’ve lost my appetite, but I force myself at least to take a sandwich. If necessary, I can wrap it up and eat it later.
Grace is chatting to a friend, and I follow her in silence to our table, from which Tori’s waving to me. She pats the chair beside her, making me smile.
Henry’s on the other side, and he looks up as we come closer. Grace drops a kiss on his cheek, then sits down with her friends a little way off. I listen to the other conversations.
“Are you sure you don’t want to try a bit?” Tori asks me, for the third time. “We only get waffle day every other week.”
I eye my untouched sandwich. “Maybe next time. Thanks, though.”
“Aren’t you feeling well?” she asks, and Henry raises his head. He’s a few places down, and it’s pretty noisy around here, but his eyes rest inquiringly on me.
“No, don’t worry. It’s just . . . I’m still so full from breakfast,” I say.
“But there’s always room for a tiny wee waffle,” Tori replies. I’m sure she means well but it’s hard to maintain my smile. “You can get one for later, if you want.”
“Not fair, I never get one from you,” Sinclair complains, and Tori rolls her eyes.
“You had your own waffles.”
“But they don’t fill you up. Just as well I brought some bread from the bakery yesterday.”
The others keep chattering. Henry’s still looking at me. When I glance his way, he wrinkles his forehead. His lips form a silent “What’s wrong?” but I shake my head.
Nothing’s wrong. Or at least nothing that I want to tell him about. Or even ought to . . . Now I look away to the side and realize that Grace is watching us. My blood runs ice-cold.
I don’t know whether Henry noticed. I stop glancing in his direction because it’s desperately hard not to burst into tears when he’s looking at me like that.
It’s easier just to eat half of my sandwich in silence and listen to Tori and Olive’s conversation.
To laugh now and again so they don’t get suspicious.
To concentrate on the things I have to do here.
To put my tray back, reach for my bag, and follow the others back to the classrooms for the afternoon lessons.
“Hey.” I feel someone touch my shoulder and stop. Henry pulls me gently aside in the corridor. Why is it that every time he stands facing me, I notice how much taller he is than me?
“What’s up?” I say cautiously.
“Are you sure everything’s fine?” he asks, and God, he has to stop this.
In the end, even I don’t really know. I totally shouldn’t care what Noah gets up to.
We split up. He can kiss whoever he likes.
But I do care because she’s my best friend.
Isi, who doesn’t tell me anything now. Who gave Noah such a hard time for what he did to me.
And now she’s kissing him. I don’t get it.
She was the one standing on my doorstep with chocolate and my favorite ice cream when he dumped me.
Who handed me one tissue after another when I couldn’t stop crying.
Who told me he wasn’t worth it. That no man in the whole damn world was worth this.
And I believed her. Because I really thought she meant it.
Was she in love with him even then? Did they just wait until I’d gone away to get together? It’s so shit, and I can’t tell anyone, not even Mum, because she’s not going to be here this weekend.
My eyes are stinging. Henry’s hand is still on my shoulder. Fortunately, I don’t have to come up with an answer.
“Do you think Mr. Ward’s got the tests today?” Tori asks, turning back to us, and Henry moves away at once. My heart skips. He’s still close to me, but not that close anymore. It’s a just-friends-and-nothing-more kind of distance.
I step past him. “I don’t know. Is he a fast marker?” I work at keeping my tone light, and it’s ridiculous how well I succeed.
“’Fraid so,” says Tori.
I don’t look back to Henry as I follow her to the classroom. I lay my phone on the shelf beside the door and we head to our seats in the second row.
“Oh, no,” Tori mutters as Mr. Ward enters the room as punctually as ever, the moment the bell rings. Henry slips in only seconds later. “See that bag?” she continues, and I glance up to where Mr. Ward is putting a bright red carrier in the middle of his desk.
“The tests?” I ask, and Tori nods.