18
I thought about Violet’s father on the bus journey home from the hospital. Apart from that time when he and Mum brought Violet back from hospital, I didn’t have many memories of Kevin. Which probably meant he hadn’t played much of an active role with Violet. Certainly, I couldn’t remember him changing nappies or feeding her, or anything like that. I could only really remember him suddenly not being around, and Mum finding it harder and harder to cope.
Had Violet managed to track him down? I’d heard nothing at all from her since she’d left. If she had found him, had she got what she wanted from the experience? Staring out of the bus window at the passing traffic, I wished all over again that she’d left me her phone number so I could keep in touch. That my sister was as keen as I was for us to be a proper family again.
Oh, God. If only I didn’t have to teach in Cromer the next day. If only I could sleep for a week.
If I didn’t sleep for a week, I did sleep reasonably well that night, worn out by the emotion of the day. And as I slept, I dreamt all over again about Mum bringing Violet back from the hospital. About eight-year-old me looking down at her in her carry cot. Only when I looked, the baby wasn’t Violet at all, it was Noah. Noah with his dark-brown eyes; a mini-Harry. Then, in my dream, there was a knock at the front door, and it was Matt, just returned from a holiday, wheeling his suitcase behind him, sunglasses on top of his head, his expression reproachful.
“Why didn’t you tell me the baby had come, Lily?” he asked. “You should have told me.”
Dream Matt was right, I thought as soon as I woke the next morning. I did need to tell him. He was away somewhere, I knew, but even so, I had to try to reach him.
I called him from the train with the lush Norfolk countryside passing by outside, imagining him seated on a hotel balcony somewhere with a very different view.
“Lily, hi.”
“Hello, Matt. How are you? Where are you?”
“In Barcelona, walking along the beach on my way to breakfast. How about you? You sound as if you’re travelling.”
“I’m in a train, on my way to Cromer.”
“You’re teaching there today?”
“Yes. Matt ...”
“I can guess why you’re ringing. The baby’s arrived, right?”
“Yes, a little boy. Noah. Eight pounds, two ounces. Mother and baby doing well.”
“Noah.” There was so much sadness in his voice. I wished he were there with me. I wanted to hug him. To be enveloped in one of his bear hugs. Words were entirely inadequate for this situation. I wanted to physically show him how much I cared. That I was there for him.
“How was it? The birth? Is Inga all right?”
“The midwives said it was very quick, although it didn’t feel like it to me. She’s okay. I think she’s already forgotten about the trauma of it all, to be honest. When are you home?”
“On Thursday. But I’m still off work on Friday. Want to meet up for a drink?”
My heart lifted. “Yes. I’d really like that.”
“Great.” A pause, then he said, “I can’t see her, Lily. Not yet.”
“I know.”
“But I could look at a photo or two, if you have any?”
“Of course I have.”
“I’ll call you when I’m home. Thanks for ringing, Lily. I appreciate it.”
“Bye, Matt. See you soon.”
But when Matt and I did meet up, it wasn’t to go for a drink. Because on Friday evening, two days after I’d accompanied Inga and Noah home from hospital in a taxi, I received a text from Violet.
Found my dad. Come with me to meet him?
I phoned her right away. To my relief, she answered.
“Hi.”
I put a rein on all the why the hell haven’t you called s and the I’ve been so bloody worried s with difficulty, saying only, “It’s great news that you’ve found him, Vi.”
“I know, right?” There was a smile in her voice. My heart swelled at the sound of it.
“Where are you?”
“Nottingham. At the Premier Inn, near the station. We’re meeting up tomorrow morning at nine. Can you come?”
I had no idea how I was going to get to Nottingham by nine in the morning, but I did know I was going to manage it somehow.
“Of course. Where are you meeting him?”
“In the Starbucks just down the road.”
“I’ll meet you in the hotel foyer at eight forty-five. We can walk down together.”
“Okay, see you.”
“Oh, and Violet ...”
But it was too late; she was gone. I didn’t even know what I’d wanted to say, not really. Don’t get your hopes raised too much? I hope it’s everything you want it to be? You know I love you, no matter what, don’t you? Any of it would have done. I just hadn’t wanted to let her go so soon. Not when she sounded so happy. But I would see her tomorrow, because she wanted me to go with her when she met the father she could never remember knowing. That was big. Huge. Wonderful.
I pulled my tablet towards me to start to research trains to Nottingham. Then, as the website was loading, I called Inga. I’d promised her I’d go round on Saturday morning, just as I’d gone round every day since she’d got home.
I called her. When she answered, I could hear Noah crying in the background.
“How’s it going today?”
“Well, he’s not exactly a happy bunny at the moment, as you can hear. No idea why. I’ve tried everything. But that’s new motherhood, right? Solving the puzzles? The midwife’s coming round again later, so hopefully she’ll be able to shed some light.”
I’d been searching for trains to Nottingham, but now I stopped clicking to really listen to my friend’s voice. Inga sounded tired, but philosophical as well. And help—in the form of the midwife—was on its way. She’d be all right without me for a little while, surely.
“I’m glad the midwife’s coming. Look, something’s happened, Ing. Violet’s been in touch again.”
“Has she now. Where is she? Marrakesh? The Yukon?”
“No, Nottingham.”
I wasn’t surprised when Inga laughed—Nottingham did sound rather tame compared to some of the places Violet had got to on her travels. But, with a meeting with her unknown father in the offing, I was willing to bet Nottingham was currently the most exciting place on the planet for my sister.
“The thing is, she wants me to meet up with her there tomorrow. She’s managed to track down her dad, and she wants me to go with her for moral support.”
“So, you’re calling me to see whether I can manage without your moral support while you give it to her?” Inga said dryly.
I sighed. “I suppose so, yes. I don’t imagine I’ll be away long. You know Violet. And I’m teaching on Tuesday, anyway, so I’ll have to get back for that.”
The search results popped up. There was a train from Norwich to Nottingham in half an hour. It would be touch and go whether I’d be able to catch it, but I’d like to. Go tonight, stay at the hotel, make sure I was there in time for Violet instead of a last-minute rushed journey first thing in the morning.
Noah’s cries were louder now. “It’s fine,” Inga said. “I’ll be fine. You go.”
Afterwards, I wondered whether I’d allowed myself to be reassured because I wanted to be. Whether, if I’d been in the frame of mind to listen more carefully, I’d have picked up on a worrying note of fragility in Inga’s voice. But at the time, I just accepted her reassurances and told her I’d see her and little Noah very soon. Then I ended the call and dashed about stuffing things I’d need into a bag, wondering whether I was crazy to even think I stood a chance of catching the train.
Then, when I was ready to leave, I pulled the door open to find Matt on the doorstep, just about to knock. For a millisecond I stared at him in bewilderment, a rush of pleasure sweeping through me at the sight of his smiling face. Then I remembered our arrangement to go for a drink. Shit. How the fuck had it slipped my mind, even for a second? I’d been looking forward to it so much.
“Why do I think you’ve forgotten we were meeting up?” he said, his gaze on my backpack. “Unless you’ve decided we should go for a hike instead of for a drink?”
It was so good to see him. Disappointment flooded through me, replacing the pleasure. If I was going to catch my train, we’d have to rearrange our meetup.
“Sorry, my sister got in touch. I’ve been waiting to hear from her for ages, and she’s asked me to meet her in Nottingham tomorrow morning. I’m just on my way to the station.” Quickly I filled him in on Violet’s quest to track down her father.
“Well, why don’t I drive you?”
“To the station?”
“No, to Nottingham. We can chat on the way.”
I paused, taken aback, not wanting to be a bother or a burden.
“It’s no trouble, Lily,” he said. “Honestly.”
I looked at him and realised that he meant it. That he really didn’t mind. He wouldn’t end up wishing he’d never offered to help out. That it was safe to say yes, and I didn’t have to deal with this situation all on my own.
“Thank you,” I said. “That would be amazing.”
“Well, come on, then,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“How will it go tomorrow for Violet with her dad, d’you think?” he asked when we were on the road, heading out of the city.
“Oh, God, I so hope it goes well for her. But I don’t know, I really don’t. I was eight or nine when Kevin left. I’m not even sure why he went; whether it was something between him and Mum, or whether it was just the reality of having a screaming baby in the house.”
I saw him flinch a little as I said that, and could have kicked myself, knowing I’d made him think about Inga.
I reached out to put a comforting hand on his leg. “Sorry. That was tactless of me.”
“I keep trying to imagine Inga dealing with a newborn, but I just can’t somehow do it. I mean, this is a woman who complained incessantly about screech owls disturbing her sleep.”
“I know.”
“I used to have to gentle her awake with a cup of coffee. And not just any old cup of coffee, but a coffee made with exactly the right freshly ground beans in her special mug. I’m not kidding, no other mug would do. The sodding shower had to be free when she wanted to use it, and woe betide the world if the shower mat was already wet.”
I laughed a little at that—I couldn’t help it. But it wasn’t funny, really, and I wanted to give him another comforting squeeze. I didn’t, though, because we were on the dual carriageway now, and a lorry had just pulled out to overtake another lorry just at the start of an incline, forcing everyone to slow right down, and Matt needed to concentrate on his driving.
“Bloody idiot,” said Matt, and I chose to believe he was talking about the lorry driver, not Inga.
“Maybe you can put your own needs and desires to one side more easily if it’s your own flesh and blood,” I suggested.
“Maybe,” Matt said doubtfully, sighing. “Does the baby look like Inga at all?”
I pictured little Noah. “He has her mouth. And her jawline, I think. I’ve got photos on my phone if you want to take a look when we stop.”
“Sure. There’s no point hating him because of what he represents, is there? He didn’t ask to be born, poor little bugger.”
“No,” I said, my thoughts returning to my baby sister. To all that perfect, fresh potential carried back from the hospital. “He didn’t.”
The lorry finally managed to pull clear of the other lorry and switched back to the slow lane. I looked up into the driver’s cab as we passed by. Saw a man with short, grey hair and a double chin. Somebody’s grandfather. Somebody’s husband. Not far off from retirement. He didn’t look like an idiot, and yet he drove like one, perhaps to relieve the boredom.
Had that been why Inga had so recklessly slept with Harry? Because she was bored? Matt wasn’t in the least bit boring, though; not unless you counted being nice and considerate and supportive as boring, which I didn’t.
Would he ever forgive her? Knowing Matt as I did, I thought there was a fair chance he would. Probably not enough for them to get back together—that ship seemed definitely to have sailed—but enough perhaps for him to become Uncle Matt, a fun, loving role model for Noah. I couldn’t imagine the same for me and Alex’s child, but that was different, because I doubted whether Fliss would welcome me, Alex’s ex, into their lives.
I sighed, thinking of the four of us, and all the happy times we’d spent together. The close bond we’d shared. I’d been mourning the loss of that closeness far more than the ending of my relationship with Alex. Alex and I hadn’t been right for each other, I could see that now.
“Have you seen that much of Alex?” I asked Matt.
“Not lately, no, not really. It’s awkward, to be honest, with Fliss there. Fliss and I ... well, let’s just say I remember her too clearly from school. She was one of the cool kids, and I most definitely wasn’t.” He smiled wryly in my direction. “No chance of blending in, either, when you’re a good foot taller than everyone else.”
Instantly I was back in my own school days, never having the right uniform, the right equipment, a proper packed lunch. Always having to pretend so hard not to care about the bullies and the petty school rules that put a spotlight firmly on my family situation.
“School stank for you, too, then?” I said.
“Let’s just say it was something I wanted to forget all about as soon as I left. Still want to forget about, thank you very much. Unfortunately, it seems to be Fliss’s favourite subject. It’s as if her school years were some kind of a golden era for her.”
“The baby will change all that when it comes, though, won’t it?”
“Hopefully. Alex is certainly excited about becoming a dad, anyway.”
“I’m happy for him,” I said, bringing Matt’s glance in my direction.
“He always asks about you when we do manage to meet up.”
Coming close on the heels of my memories of the four of us sharing happy times together, I felt a pang somewhere between my heart and my stomach. “What do you tell him?”
“That you’re working hard. That your teaching’s going well. That you’re painting when you can.”
I sighed. “Which hasn’t been often lately. I miss it.”
It wasn’t just my painting I missed. It was the routine of my old life. Having a group of friends that were like family. How stupid I’d been to take it all for granted. To wish for a moment to have time to myself to be creative.
“I really miss the four of us doing stuff together.”
Matt sighed. “Me too.”
But as we drove on in silence, I wondered bitterly whether we’d really been as close as I’d thought we were, the four of us. After all, Alex must have always been hiding his desire to have kids. Inga must have had a creeping dissatisfaction about her relationship with Matt. So maybe that tight-knit, friends-forever unit had all been an illusion? I didn’t want to think that, though, to have all those happy memories tarnished.
“It’s great that Violet’s asked you to be there for her,” Matt said, and I turned my face to look out the window, hiding my expression from him.
God. If he wasn’t careful, I was going to cry. “It really is. I hope ... I really hope this marks a new start between us.”
“I don’t know why it shouldn’t. However this turns out for her, I should think it will be emotional. Violet’s going to need her big sister.”
I glanced at him. “How do you always know the absolute right thing to say?”
He shook his head. “I don’t, believe me. Jesus, half the time I don’t even know something needs to be said. I just sail on with life without a clue that everything’s falling apart.”
“Oh, Matt,” I said, and he laughed; a weary laugh, totally lacking in humour.
“Don’t worry, I’m not really a cynical git. Well, at least, I’m trying not to be. Most of the time I succeed.”
“I hope ...,” I started. Broke off, started again. “I hope seeing me doesn’t remind you of everything.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s not something you need to be reminded of, is it? It’s with me all the time, anyway. Really, Lily, I’m fine. Time’s a great healer and all that.”
When at last we reached the outskirts of Nottingham, I put the address of the hotel into my phone so I could direct Matt. By the time we arrived it was ten thirty in the evening, and the hotel only had one room left. One room with one double bed.
“You take the room,” Matt told me. “I’ll find somewhere else.”
“No, I’ll give Violet a call. I can share with her.”
But there was no reply from Violet’s phone—it was switched off. “Probably out clubbing somewhere,” I said, feeling unjustifiably annoyed.
“Honestly, Lily,” Matt said. “I don’t mind trying to find somewhere else.”
I looked at his tired face. “No, we can share. We’ve done it before.”
We had, but not without Alex and Inga. And it had been on a camping trip, in a big tent, not a hotel room for two.
Matt nodded. “All right, if you’re sure.”
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said as we rode up to the sixth floor in the lift.
“Don’t be daft,” I said. “This isn’t the nineteen thirties. You know, It Happened One Night , when Clark Gable strings a blanket across the room between him and Claudette Colbert for decency’s sake?”
He laughed. “I can’t say I’ve seen that film,” he said. “But I can find some string and a blanket from somewhere if you want me to.”
“No,” I said, as the lift pinged for our floor and the doors opened. “That’s all right.”
“I didn’t realise you were such a fan of old black-and-white movies,” he said as we walked along the corridor.
“I was in a film club when I was at art college,” I told him, looking at the door numbers as we passed. “We saw all the classics.”
Inga had gone along with me; we’d bonded over such films as The African Queen , Casablanca and All About Eve . But I didn’t mention that to Matt.
Oh, Inga. Stringed blanket or no stringed blanket, I was glad she didn’t know that me and Matt were about to share a bed.
“Here it is,” said Matt and used the key card.
The door opened. We went in together, and I dumped my backpack on the bed while Matt shrugged out of his jacket and headed for the bathroom.
What would it be like, going to sleep together? Fine, surely. This wasn’t a rom-com, was it? Matt and I weren’t an item. We were friends, and he was only here because he was a kind man supporting me while I did my best to help my sister.
The TV remote was by the bed. I switched the TV on. It was a news report about a major fire in a factory in Spain.
Shit.
I sank down on the edge of the bed and stared at the huge flames licking the sky; the distressed family members wailing as they looked on, their loved ones clearly trapped inside the inferno; and I felt sick.
I should turn the TV off. Get rid of the image. I tried never to watch news reports of fires because they inevitably took me back to that long-ago Christmas night—the night of my sixteenth birthday. But somehow, this time, I couldn’t tear myself away, and before I knew it, I was back there, and the smell of burning seemed to come into the room. I remembered the smoke. The tide of panic rising inside me. The screaming.
“Mum! Violet!”
I’d wanted to launch myself into the flames to try to get to them, but strong hands held me back, making me utterly powerless. Just like the people on TV now, wailing and crying for those trapped inside.
So many years had passed, but everything about that night was still so totally vivid to me. I hadn’t talked about it to anyone—not to therapists, not to my best friend, not even to Alex, who I’d expected to spend the rest of my life with. Certainly not to my little sister, the one person who really knew about the hell of that night. It was all still too painful. Too raw.
Until recently I’d locked away the memories of the fire deep inside myself and thrown away the key. It was the only way to function.
But if I was ever going to do more than function, if I was ever going to be truly myself with the people I loved, then maybe I would have to talk. To speak the awful, dreadful words and to finally set the traumatic memories free.
Could I start now, with Matt? Matt, who’d listened so carefully when I told him about Mum and me on that summer picnic that had gone wrong. But a failed picnic was a very different thing to a terrifying, life-transforming fire.
Dry mouthed, I watched the efforts of the firefighters to get the blaze under control, remembering how Beryl had tried to persuade me to talk about my demons. Imagining her here now, egging me on. “ Talk about it, pet. Tell him the truth. It’s time. ”
Yes. I’d do it. But how to start? “ A dreadful thing happened to my family when I was sixteen.” Or, “I’ve seen a fire as bad as that. ”
I still hadn’t decided on my opening line when Matt left the bathroom and came to stand beside me.
“Bloody hell,” he said, reading the information line below the images, “that’s right near where I’ve just been for my interview.”
What the fuck?
“You went to Spain for an interview?”
The footage of the fire came to an end. Back in the newsroom, the newsreader began to talk about a downturn in the economy.
Matt looked at me, slightly shamefaced. “Not entirely, but yes. Well, all right, I built my holiday around the interview.”
Well, then.
I nodded, the moment for my big confessional heart-to-heart vanishing in a puff of smoke.
Matt, living in another country. Jesus.
Suddenly desperate to escape the room, I picked up the kettle to take it to the bathroom to fill it.
Matt put a hand out to stop me as I passed by. “I wasn’t going to keep it as a big secret, Lily. I just saw the ad and thought, why not? That if I switched countries, I might get some perspective. Be able to make a new start.” He sighed. “I’m just kind of making my life up as I go along at the moment, you know?”
Like I did pretty much every day of my life. Not that that made his decision any easier to accept.
“When will you hear whether you’ve got the job or not?” I managed to ask. Then I remembered our holiday to Wales, and his big announcement. “Or do you already know?”
“No, I haven’t heard anything yet. I should get a call in the next few days if I’ve been successful, I should think.”
I continued on past him towards the bathroom with the kettle. “Well, I wish you all the luck in the world.” I did my level best to make my voice bright. Had no idea whatsoever whether I’d managed it or not. “If anyone deserves it, it’s you. What’s the project? Oh, wait a minute, let me fill the kettle, then you can tell me all about it over a cuppa.”
Acting, acting, acting. Pretending I hadn’t just cranked myself up to a position where I was finally going to tell someone I trusted about that long-ago night from hell only to have the chance of unburdening myself ripped away by yet more devastating news.
In the bathroom I turned on the tap, managing to splash myself when I put the kettle under it. Oh, God. Everything in my life was broken. Everyone but me was getting on with their lives. Matt, Alex, Inga. All of them moving on. While, scratch beneath the surface, and I was pretty much the same person I’d been at sixteen.
The kettle was filled. Overfilled really, for two cups of tea. But I needed more time before I could face Matt again if I was going to put on any kind of successful front. So I put the kettle down on the side of the sink and locked the door, pretending to go to the loo. Leaving it as long as possible.
“If I do get the job, you can come and visit me as often as you want to,” Matt said when I eventually left the bathroom. “I’ll be back in the UK regularly too.”
I set a smile on my face and plugged the kettle in.
“Sure. I love Spain. You won’t be able to keep me away. Now, what d’you want? Tea or coffee?”
Matt told me all about the housing project the job was focused on, and I think I managed to show enough enthusiasm and interest. I asked some questions, anyway, and he answered them. Then he found a comedy show on TV—I have no idea what it was—and we watched a couple of episodes before we got ready for bed.
And, if I hadn’t quite got over the shock of the fire on TV and hearing Matt’s news by the time Matt switched the light out, I was feeling slightly less churned up as I settled back against the pillows.
“D’you remember that camping trip we went on to Scotland?” Matt asked me in the darkness.
“Of course I do,” I said, smiling at the memory.
We’d all slept in one big tent together, and I could vividly remember the jokes and the laughter. The rustling as Inga unearthed a midnight snack.
“Alex tried to convince us the animal we could hear outside was a lion escaped from that zoo up the road.”
I laughed; a quick bubble of laughter that soon dried up at the thought that those innocent times were well and truly behind us.
Matt sighed beside me, obviously thinking exactly the same thing. “Night, Lily.”
“Night, Matt.”
I turned on my side, away from him, tucking my hand under the pillow the way I liked to do when I went to sleep, listening to him breathing beside me, the sound of someone moving around in the room next door reaching me faintly through the wall, making me remember other times when I’d shared a bedroom. When Mum and her current boyfriend had been rowing downstairs—whoever it was, there always seemed to be rows—and I’d take my duvet into Violet’s room to sleep on the floor next to her bed.
Vi. Her voice had been so lit up when she’d told me over the phone about meeting up with Kevin. God, let it go all right. Let Kevin show up tomorrow. Show up and be kind. Give my little sister what she needed from the meeting.
I fantasised then about Violet being transformed by something going well in her life, her eyes bright with the happiness of discovering a new family member. Me and her sharing something special. Starting again. And sometime along the way I fell asleep next to Matt.
Only to be plunged straight into a dream about a fire.
Matt shook me awake. “Lily? You were having a nightmare.”
You can pretend to be okay all you like when you’re awake, but when you go to sleep and your subconscious takes over, it’s quite a different matter.
I woke to find my face soaking wet, my throat as raw as sandpaper, and I guessed I must have been screaming and crying in my sleep.
“It’s all right,” Matt soothed, his arm around me, and I breathed deeply, trying to stem the flow of tears.
I could still see flames inside the building of my dream, licking at the windowpanes. “It ... it was the fire on telly.”
Now I was awake, memories were quickly taking over from the nightmare, and I couldn’t stop sobbing and shaking.
Matt moved closer, holding me. “Shh ... it’s all right. I’m here,” he said, and somehow that made me want to cry even harder because the way he was talking and holding me was so exactly what I needed.
“I ... I’m sorry,” I said eventually. “Sorry I woke you.”
“Don’t be daft,” he said. “Here, let me get you a tissue.”
He got up from the bed to make his way to the bathroom through the darkness. On his way back, he collided with something and cursed.
“Are you all right?” I asked. “D’you need the light on?”
“No, it’s fine,” he said. “Here.”
“Thanks.” I took the tissue from him and used it to wipe my face.
He sat close to me, his shoulder against mine. “All right now?”
I nodded. “Better.”
“Want a cup of tea?”
I could say yes. We could sit up in bed and drink it, and I could do what I’d planned to do earlier on—tell Matt all about my sixteenth birthday. How I’d plotted and planned for weeks to get Teddy Newsome’s attention, and nothing and nobody was going to stop me going out with my friends to celebrate. Not even my little sister’s pleading. “ Please, Lily. Don’t go. Please, don’t go. ”
I’d woken up that Christmas morning with the feeling that everything was going to be different from now on. Not with my family—I wasn’t misguided enough to think Mum would suddenly stop drinking. That she’d have found the energy, money, and desire to have bought me a birthday present. To be awake to wish me happy birthday.
No, I didn’t have any unrealistic expectations like that. But I did think Teddy Newsome, the older boy I’d had a crush on for months, might finally look in my direction. And as I got dressed, I was full of plans for how I was going to get his attention and what I would say after I’d been successful.
And then I went downstairs, and Violet had made me a Happy Birthday banner and strung it up for me above the kitchen door. She was waiting there for me, a smile splitting her face right in two, and I tried not to think about her standing on one of our ultra-wobbly kitchen chairs to pin it up, or to notice that she’d left the n out of sixteenth so that it read Happy Sixteeth Birthday, Lily .
“Did you make that all by yourself?” I said, scooping her into a hug. “Thank you, Vi. It’s beautiful.”
“D’you really like it?”
“Of course I do. It’s fantastic. My best birthday present ever in the world.”
And she’d grinned and hugged me back.
“Happy Christmas, Vi. Come and open your present.”
She ripped the paper off the tiny teddy bear I’d wrapped up for her, kissing it and proclaiming it was called Mr. Cuddles, and I laughed, pleased she was so happy with my gift, blissfully unaware that this was the last proper day we would spend together.
I went out to meet my friends that evening, ignoring all my little sister’s pleas. I left my sister all alone with Mum, knowing Mum would inevitably get drunk.
I had let Violet down so very badly; no wonder she barely got in touch with me.
Except she had, though, this time, hadn’t she? She’d asked me to be here to meet her dad with her. That meant a lot. More than me relieving my guilt by spewing it all out to Matt.
“No,” I said to Matt, “it’s okay. Let’s go back to sleep.”
“Sure?”
“Sure.”
So Matt got into bed, and I lay on my side, and he lay in the same direction and held me.
The way Alex used to.
“Is this okay?” Matt asked.
A part of my mind knew I should say no. But after the nightmare, it was just so comforting to be held. So I said, “Yes, it’s fine.”
But within seconds I was thinking about another film where a platonic couple shares a bed. The Proposal with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds when they’re pretending to be a couple prior to a sham wedding so the Sandra Bullock character won’t be deported. The Sandra Bullock character massaging his shoulder, pretending to be loving, when his mother brings them breakfast in bed.
Lying in the darkness now, I could see the expression on the Ryan Reynolds character’s face as he realises he’s enjoying it, and his mind is saying, wait a minute ...
But that was just a movie. Matt was not going to start massaging my shoulder, and we weren’t pretending to be anything but what we were. Friends. Friends on borrowed time too. Because I was sure Matt would get the job in Spain. Why wouldn’t he? He was good at his job, and he was bound to have been impressive at the interview. Yes, he’d get the job. Then he’d be gone.
And, anyway, Matt was already asleep.
So I closed my eyes, focusing on my own breathing to help me to relax. And within seconds, I was asleep too.