Chapter 20
Ibarely slept that night. Simon’s words had embedded themselves in my brain like an irritating jingle.
Was I really burying my own problems by dealing with everyone else’s?
Running, not for adventure but from fear?
It was easier to help others, to stay in motion, than to face the stillness of wanting something for myself – and risking losing it, as I lost Mum when I was ten.
For years I told myself I was chasing life, squeezing every moment dry because it might end too soon. But that was a lie. I wasn’t chasing anything, I was hiding. From loss, or from needing too much.
Somewhere in the chaos, the version of me who had dreams got lost. I’d become a professional helper, jumping into other people’s fires while mine quietly smouldered.
I was living day by day, not dream by dream, but I was sure I had had dreams once.
Simon’s voice echoed in my head: You’re allowed to want something for yourself, you know.
I hated that he saw it so clearly when I couldn’t. If he had figured it out after just a few weeks, how long had I been pretending?
No matter how many times I turned it over in my head, I couldn’t find a fault in his logic.
He had seen right through me, in a way that made my stomach twist with resentment at him, at myself, at the truth of it all.
Because he wasn’t wrong. And that was the worst part.
He knew. He had lived it. And if he could see it in me so easily, then how long had I been fooling myself into believing I was fine?
By 5 a.m. I gave up on sleep. My body was exhausted but my mind wouldn’t stop. I took an extra-long shower, letting the hot water scald my skin as if it could burn away the unease curling inside me.
Megan and Josh hadn’t messaged me in nearly a week. Not a single check-in, not a meme, not even a passive-aggressive ‘I’m fine’ text. Nothing. And they were supposed to be my best friends. The people who knew me better than anyone.
My thumb hovered over my phone more than once, to call them or to reach out on the group chat. I could smooth it over – probably easily if I apologised for things I hadn’t done, or if I offered myself up as the bridge back to normality.
But I also knew that, if I did, it would be me bending again. Me absorbing the discomfort so that everyone else could stay where they were.
And I hadn’t even done anything wrong.
This couldn’t go on.
I had lied to Simon about having an early morning: in fact, it was the opposite. Pim had gone out to a Christmas party with an old friend, so it was best not to let her surface until well after noon to give her a chance to sleep off the after-effects of the champagne.
I had a different plan for this morning.
After my shower, I pulled on my jeans and a sparkly green jumper and I got on the Tube with one thing in mind: Josh.
I took the Tube across the city, gripping the cold metal pole in the carriage with gloved hands, my mind racing with all the things I wanted to say.
By the time I reached Josh’s building, I was shivering with nervous energy. I banged on his door and pressed the buzzer repeatedly, determined to get an answer. It took a few seconds before the intercom crackled to life.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he shouted, groggy and irritated.
‘Open the door, Josh,’ I said into the intercom, my voice steady but firm.
There was a beat of silence. Then, ‘Evie?’ His tone was suddenly higher, confused.
The buzzer sounded, granting me entry.
He was waiting at his door like the Ghost of Christmas Regret, in a pair of fluffy white pyjama bottoms and a Christmas T-shirt with a gingerbread man and the words ‘Let’s Get Baked’ stretched across his chest.
‘We need to talk,’ I said, brushing past him before he could form an excuse.
‘It’s not even seven,’ he moaned, shutting the door behind me.
‘You’ve disturbed my sleep for days by pissing me off, so I thought I would return the favour and disturb yours,’ I snapped, throwing my bag on the sofa and going to his kitchen to turn on the kettle. ‘I’ve had enough of the silent treatment. You and I are going to talk.’
He groaned and fell flat on his face atop his sofa. He clearly wasn’t that annoyed with me or he’d have launched into a tirade of cutting wit.
‘Kettle’s on.’ I returned, sinking into the blanket-covered armchair. ‘So can we talk?’
‘Do I have a choice?’ His voice was muffled by the sofa cushion.
‘Nope. It’s been a week, Josh,’ I said. ‘Why the hell haven’t you messaged me back?’
He might’ve shrugged, but with the way his body was curled into the sofa, it was hard to tell.
‘I didn’t want to,’ he said finally.
‘Why? Because I so greatly wronged you? What did I even do?’
Another shrug. This time more obvious, as he shifted into a more comfortable position.
‘You just automatically took Megan’s side.’
I blinked. ‘What?’
‘And then she threw a drink on me and you just let her chuck me out.’
I chewed my lip for a moment before finding my resilience again. ‘We were there to help her, Josh. And as much as you’re my best friend, she’s my sister. She needed me. If the roles were reversed and we were there for you, I would have stayed with you too.’
‘Wow! What a comfort.’ His voice was laced with sarcasm as he rubbed his eyes, which I now noticed were red-rimmed. His face was blotchy and he had the general air of someone who hadn’t slept properly in days.
I decided to take a different tack.
I shoved his legs out of the way and hugged one of his many cushions to my chest to match his petulant energy.
‘If it helps, she’s ignoring me as well.’
‘It doesn’t. I’m not trying to screw up your relationship with Megan. I was just pissed in the moment. And pissed in general. I really shouldn’t have opened that second bottle of wine.’
‘Y’think?’
We blinked at each other for a moment. ‘Coffee?’
‘I’d love one.’
‘Do you want to have a shower?’ I added, pottering about in his kitchen and trying to sound casual. The Shiraz still seemed to be clinging to his skin.
He laughed but said nothing. I returned with his coffee, black no sugar.
‘So why,’ I began, ‘if you recognised you were drunk, did you remain annoyed at me? For days, I might add.’
‘I didn’t…’
‘Go on.’
He stared into his coffee as if it might suddenly offer him wisdom. ‘I didn’t mean to drop you in the shit.’
‘Well, you did,’ I shot back. ‘I understand why you were mad at me in the moment, but a whole week, Josh? I thought we weren’t those kinds of friends.’
His eyes flicked up, guilt flashing through them before he masked it with an eye roll.
‘Guessing you haven’t spoken to Megan either?’
He shook his head.
‘Same. She won’t take my calls, but she’s back in Kent with Denise and Bob.’
‘Not with Alex?’ His concern broke through his apparent exhaustion. ‘Do we even know what happened yet?’
‘No.’ I didn’t want to admit my conversation with Alex to anyone but Megan. ‘I don’t think they’ll be getting back together, though.’
‘Oh, fucking fabulous!’ He threw his head back. ‘That’s going to make her even more pleasant.’
‘Josh, really?’
‘What? She threw a drink on me—’
‘And you spoke about your affair with a married man when we were supposed to be comforting her after her husband had left. I mean, come on. Pick your timing next time.’
He went to speak but I cut him off. This was my time to be angry, not his.
‘And you dropped me in the shit, for good measure. Why did you choose that moment? Drunk or not: why?’
‘I was just…’ He stopped and exhaled. ‘I don’t know.’
‘And me? Why did you ignore me?’
He threw his head back and I felt the familiar feeling of wanting to let it go. To say ‘No worries’ as I usually did, to let the moment pass and be done with it.
But it was about time someone else did some work for a change.
‘Well?’ I pressed.
‘I don’t know. I was… embarrassed? Frustrated? I just didn’t want to deal with it.’
‘Great! Love that for me. Especially when I only have two weeks left in London.’
He winced. A direct hit.
‘Yeah, I know,’ he whispered, shifting to sit properly on the sofa instead of curling into it. ‘I was being a dick. I shouldn’t have ignored you. And I shouldn’t have let my own shit make things worse.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, quieter now. Sincere and relieved that it wasn’t in my head.
Josh sighed again, rubbing his temples. ‘I do stand by the fact that Megan overreacted—’
‘Josh.’
‘No, hear me out. I get why she was upset. And I get that my timing was abysmal.’
‘Apocalyptic,’ I corrected.
‘But she went nuclear on me. She chucked wine on me, chucked me out, and then cut both of us off. That’s not exactly fair, Evie.’
I chewed my lip, knowing he had a point. Megan had always been quick to react, especially when emotions were running high.
‘I think she’s spiralling,’ I theorised aloud. ‘She’s hurting, and you were an easy target. But, Josh, you have to admit that what you are doing isn’t right.’
He hesitated, then nodded. ‘I know. I just—’ He exhaled. ‘I think I was so caught up in being pissed at her for throwing the drink and you not defending me that I didn’t want to admit that maybe she had a point.’
‘She did?’ I was surprised he’d admit it.
‘It was my timing that pissed her off more than the subject matter.’
‘I think you sleeping with a married man still annoyed her. You know how paranoid she’s been, thinking that Alex is cheating.’
‘But that’s just it, it’s paranoia!’ Josh’s voice rose in volume. ‘And it’s not like you or I can do anything about it. She needs to sort herself and her house out.’
‘And you need to talk to her,’ I insisted. He pulled a face of disgust, but I was deadly serious. I reached over and nudged his knee. ‘It’s not too late to fix things, you know. You don’t have to be best friends again overnight, but you should at least try before this stain sets in.’
He pulled another face. ‘I threw away that shirt.’
‘I’ll buy you a new one.’
He laughed and immediately acquiesced. ‘Fine, I’ll try. Eventually.’
‘Soon.’
He squinted at me. ‘Define soon.’
‘Before I leave for Canada.’