Chapter 32
Eve
‘Will!’ I hammer again on the door, craning my neck to peer through the slither of unfrosted glass that allows a glimpse of the hallway. It’s empty.
I knock again, loudly, and squat down, lifting the flap of the letterbox. ‘Will, open the door!’
I prise the bristles surrounding the letterbox apart with my fingers, and watch as the hallway remains still. I bang once more, and then see Will’s socked feet begin padding slowly down the stairs.
He opens the door and I scramble up quickly.
‘Why weren’t you answering?’ I run my fingers through my fringe.
‘I was asleep.’ He’s angry, his face twisted.
‘Shit, sorry. Can I come in? Where are Nina and Benny?’
Will looks at me for a second, and then steps aside to let me pass. I lead the way into the kitchen and flop myself onto a bar stool.
‘Well, I’ve officially fucked it all up,’ I say, my fingers tapping against the granite of the island. ‘But before you say “I told you so”, she was worse than me. Way worse. Like, Will, you would not believe the things she has done. But it’s fine; I’ve slept on it. I typed up an action plan on the plane home, and I know how we’re going to fix this.’ I reach down and pull my laptop from my bag and open it up. ‘OK, so, her original email about the “promotion” was on the 8 th of May, right? But I’m not supposed to know about that—’
‘Eve,’ Will interrupts me, and I look up.
‘What?’
‘I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.’ He runs a hand through his hair. ‘But I really don’t want you to be here right now.’
I stare at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t have the space for you,’ he taps his head, ‘here. I don’t have space for all the scheming and self-centredness and emotionless drive... I just... I need a friend, and you’re not being one.’
I can’t speak for a second; this feels like it’s coming from nowhere. I slowly lower the lid of my laptop. ‘What... I don’t know what I’ve done?’
Will shakes his head. ‘That’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t know what you’ve done, or how you make people feel, or whether anyone else around you might be going through something—’ He cuts off suddenly, his voice cracking.
I frown at him. ‘But if there was something going on, why didn’t you just say?’
He barks out a laugh. ‘I did say! I said it a hundred times. I turned up on your doorstep, do you remember? But you were so wrapped up in what you were doing, so focused on your little missions...’
‘That’s not fair,’ I say, but something inside me is telling me it might be.
Will holds his hands out, palms up, his face sad. ‘You still haven’t even asked.’
Something cold and hard drops into my stomach. ‘I’m sorry.’ I stand up and walk over to him. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right.’ I put my hand to my chest. ‘Please, tell me what’s happening.’
Will shakes his head again. ‘You need to stop, Eve. This isn’t another one of your tick-box problems to solve.’
I throw my hands up. ‘So you want me to understand you, to be there, but you won’t tell me what’s wrong?’
‘I don’t want you to do anything until you’ve figured out how to just... be. How to listen.’
‘Don’t throw pop psychology at me, Will, it’s patronising.’
He laughs bitterly. ‘Go home, Eve.’
I stand in front of him, my mind turning. ‘Just tell me what’s wrong.’
‘You don’t want to go home, do you?’ There’s a hint of sympathy in his voice now. ‘You can’t bear to sit with your thoughts.’
I shake my head. ‘That’s not true. I’m always at home.’
Will nods. ‘OK.’
Frustration bubbles up inside me, tightening my jaw. I can’t leave; I don’t want to leave. I don’t want Will to cast me aside.
‘I’m going back to bed.’ He turns around and walks out of the kitchen. I scamper after him.
‘Please, can’t we talk about it?’ My heart is racing, my head spinning.
‘Not now.’
He climbs the stairs, leaving me in the hallway to show myself out.
* * *
‘What’s going on with him?’ I gabble down the phone, my feet heavy on the pavement. ‘Is he OK? He wouldn’t tell me... he said I was being selfish, or that I didn’t listen, or something.’
Jess is quiet at the end of the line.
‘Jess?’
She takes a deep breath. ‘I understand where he’s coming from, Eve.’
‘What?’ I stop in the street, a few paces away from my front door.
‘I love you, you know I do. But you can be a bit... self-involved. You’re like a dog with a bone sometimes.’
I clench the phone in my hand. Everything feels like it’s tilted; like the ground is moving slowly under my feet.
‘I get you, Eve.’ Jess is still talking. ‘We both understand where this comes from, the abandonment issues and unwillingness to get attached to anything, to invest in something that might walk away. But we’re your friends; you can’t keep friends if you don’t invest in them.’
‘ Abandonment issues?’ I scoff. ‘Have you been on the ayahuasca again?’
‘And now you’re being defensive,’ Jess sighs. ‘You don’t have to be on guard for every possible threat. I’m saying this from a place of love.’
‘Of course you are.’
Jess is silent, and I start walking again, mindlessly fishing in my bag for my keys. A few doors up, a taxi pulls in, and I watch as Adam gets out. I don’t have the time — the headspace — for interaction, so I move quickly up the path and unlock the front door.
‘Have you ever thought that not crying for sixteen years might not be healthy?’ Jess asks tentatively.
‘You’re on a roll here, aren’t you? Is this years of thoughts about me pouring out, or just a few months?’
I hear her sigh again. ‘I’m going to go. I love you. But Eve, not everybody’s going to leave you. Not unless you push them to.’
She clicks off.
I stand in the hallway, listening to the ticking of the clock above the mirror. The heat is cloying and my heart pounds, my head heavy.
I drop my bag to the floor and walk through to the kitchen. I swing open the back door and sit on the step, staring out into the soulless emptiness of the garden.