Chapter 19 #2
“It’s a bit late for that,” I reply bitterly.
“You have every right to be angry with me,” he says hastily. “I’d get it if you never wanted to speak to me again. I just wanted to call to apologize. I…I’m really, really sorry for how I acted.”
I gulp hard and fight the sting that’s creeping into my eyes. Cyril’s friendship meant so much to me. Landing in bed together was a mixture of drunken stupidity and wanting to take my mind off a broken heart. And if I’d known that Cyril hoped it could be more, I’d never have done it.
“I know I hurt you, Cy,” I say, my voice shaking. “But to pull a shitty stunt like that…”
“I know.”
“You didn’t give a fuck who you were hurting. Ruby could have lost her place at St. Hilda’s. And as for James and the way he’s been beating himself up over the whole thing…Well, I won’t even go there.”
“I wasn’t thinking,” he says.
“Bullshit,” I burst out. I’m so angry, I could trample the little flowers at the edge of the bed beside me.
“I’ve known you eighteen years, Cyril. You don’t do a thing without thinking it through.
You’re just like James in that. You knew exactly what you were doing.
You knew exactly what the consequences would be. ”
He’s quiet for a moment. His breath is shuddering. “I wanted the old days back. I wanted you and James in my life, and I didn’t care who had to pay the price, so long as we could be close again. But now I do care. I really regret what I did.”
I’ve never heard Cyril speak like that. He normally gives the impression of being in total control—of himself, of his friends, of the whole world. But now it seems like he’s totally lost control.
“I don’t know if you can forgive me. I don’t even know if I can forgive myself,” he continues. “But if you want me in your life, I’m there for you. That…that’s all I wanted to say.”
I can hear despair and remorse in his words and, above all, sincerity. He means what he’s saying. But I’m not sure whether Cyril gets that I’m not the same person I was six months ago. My life has turned one-eighty while he still seems to want to cling to the past.
I don’t know how I can get through to him how important Graham is to me or what our relationship means to me. I’m not even sure if Cyril has any right to an explanation after he betrayed my trust like that. But there’s one thing I have to tell him. Otherwise, I don’t know if we can move on.
“I want to say something to you too, Cy,” I begin, with a scratch in my voice.
“What’s that?” he asks quietly.
I take a deep breath. “Being with Graham wasn’t the main reason Dad threw me out. He threw me out because I’m pregnant.”
I hear him gasp. It feels like eternity goes by, as neither of us speaks. I wiggle my toes slightly, trying to focus on the feeling of the warm lawn under my feet.
“I don’t know what to say,” he admits hoarsely.
I don’t either. I don’t want to hurt Cyril any worse, but I think it’s about time we got things straight between us, once and for all.
“I’m sorry if that’s a lot to take in,” I say on impulse. “But I want to be honest with you.”
“What have I done?” he groans.
“It would have come out sooner or later either way,” I say. “Not that it excuses you, but Dad would have kicked me out anyway.”
Silence settles between us again. I feel like we’re spending more time on this call not speaking than talking to each other. But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Being quiet with someone can prompt a whole bunch of stuff too.
I can almost feel Cy trying to process what I’ve just told him. And at the same time, I’m remembering everything that binds us together—days when we skipped school and went clothes shopping in London. Nights we just talked, and times when I thought I’d never have another friend like him.
Right now, I realize one thing—I can’t imagine a future without Cyril in it. And however badly he hurt me, I don’t want to lose him.
“Can you deal with that, Cy?” I ask quietly.
He clears his throat, and it sounds like he wants to answer, but nothing comes out. I stare at the bright pink flowers in Ophelia’s garden. When I arrived here, they were still just buds, but now they’re fully out.
“D’you think I’d make a cool uncle?” he says eventually on the other end of the line.
A tentative smile twitches at the corners of my mouth. I feel my heart lightening. “You’ll definitely be a cool uncle.”
Ruby
“I’ve got something for you,” says James.
I look up at him from my book. I’ve been lounging in the garden for over an hour, and James is standing by my chair, smiling at me. There’s a little pile of papers in his hand.
“That sounds mysterious. What is it?” I ask, clapping the book shut—but not without marking my place first.
James walks around the table and sits down opposite me. I try to get a glimpse of the papers, but he folds them up and presses them to his stomach.
“What are your feelings on surprises?” he asks.
I immediately think back to our date in that restaurant conservatory. James surprised me that evening, and it’s one of my favorite memories with him.
“I like surprises from you. I think,” I add, which makes him grin.
“I’d like to take you away for the weekend.”
I bolt upright, so suddenly that the book almost slides off my lap. I grip on to it with both hands. “When?”
He nods. “Now. If you like.”
I can’t help the smile that’s now spread over my whole face. “Where?”
“That’s the surprise.”
“James!”
Now he laughs. “You need overnight stuff.”
Suddenly, I’m all antsy. “And we’re leaving right now?”
“As soon as you’re packed.”
I stand up. The whole way through the garden, I can feel James’s eyes on my back, and before I walk into the house, I turn to face him again. The look in his eyes makes my heart beat faster.
He looks happy.
As I pass the kitchen, I stick my head around the door. Mum’s standing at the counter, slicing onions, while Dad drizzles oil into a pan.
“James has invited me on a weekend away,” I say, not quite keeping the excitement out of my voice.
Mum turns around. “We know. He asked us first if we minded.”
“Do you know where we’re going?”
She grins. “Maybe.”
I open my mouth, but before I can speak, she points the knife at me. “Forget it. I’m not saying a word. Not a single word.”
“That’s not fair. You never manage to keep a secret from Dad.”
“That’s down to my skill in asking the right questions and worming things out of her,” Dad says, throwing a handful of red pepper into the pan.
“You realize how gross that sounds?” I ask, pulling a face.
A thoughtful crease forms between his brows. “You’re right,” he says. “Very funny.” Then, like nothing ever happened, he stirs the peppers around with a spoon.
I feel James come up behind me and stroke my back, ever so gently. It’s always like that when my parents are around—little, secret gestures and touches. Nothing more.
“Can I have even the teeniest-weeniest hint?” I ask with a smile.
James leans down until his mouth is level with my ear. “I’d like to make one of your wishes come true, Ruby Bell.”
A tingle spreads from my stomach through my entire body.
“Then I’d better go and pack,” I croak.