Beth
Beth
When they arrive in the city, she notices Nick grip the steering wheel a little bit tighter.
‘It’s changed a bit since I was last here,’ he says.
She glances at him.
‘Have you honestly never been back? Not ever? Not even once?’
He shakes his head.
‘It’s transformed. You’ll hardly recognise it.’
That’s not a bad thing , she thinks.
Ever since he agreed to come with her, she’s worried about how he will cope with being back. Surrounded by his worst memories.
And then, one of her own surfaces, catching her unawares.
She was back in the kitchen with Anna as they prepared dinner. One of the few times they were ever alone together.
‘How’s your course going?’ Anna asked as she peeled a carrot. ‘You know, I really admire you, Beth. For following your heart. Not doing something boring and practical.’
Beth remembers she was putting some fish fingers into the rickety old oven at the time.
‘Well, my parents weren’t exactly thrilled,’ she replied. ‘But I wanted to get an overview of the whole industry before going to drama school after I graduate.’
Anna widened her eyes.
‘You sound like a proper grown-up. Your whole life planned out.’
‘Hardly!’
‘I’m serious. I wish I knew what the hell I want to do with my life. I’m jealous.’
‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out,’ Beth replied.
‘I hope so.’ Anna’s voice dropped slightly. ‘It sounds daft but when people talk about picturing their futures, I just… can’t. Weird isn’t it?’
Beth remembers the way she smiled, lifting her shoulders slightly in a half-shrug.
Afterwards, that memory was one of the most devastating.
…when people talk about picturing their futures, I just… can’t. Weird, isn’t it?
Beth replayed that conversation over and over in her mind after the fire, when she was alone in her hotel room. Wondering if somehow, Anna knew what was going to happen to her.
‘You’re quiet,’ Nick says now, as they pull off the M1. ‘Lost in your thoughts.’
She stares at him, suddenly shocked to see the older, wiser Nick sitting beside her in the car. That young boy who ran away from her is long gone.
‘I was thinking about Anna,’ she says. ‘And that time, after you left.’
He takes a deep breath.
‘I can hardly remember it,’ he says. ‘I wasn’t in any fit state.’
‘Losing Anna… and then you. I cried for at least a month after you went. I lost nearly a stone. I’d never felt pain like that before. Not even after my father’s affair.’
He swallows.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad,’ she says. ‘We should have had more support. They should have done more to help us. Emotionally I mean.’
He shakes his head.
‘The only way out is through. Like you said.’
‘So much pain though,’ she says, closing her eyes. ‘So much suffering. You’d have thought someone could have made it easier for us all.’
He reached over and squeezed her hand. They were on the main road through the city now, just a few hundred metres from the site of the Cecil Broad Building.
The sparkly new accommodation block that replaced it comes into view. The area where the car park used to be has been turned into a small garden, with a sundial at its centre.
‘Looks like there’s space to park a bit further up,’ she says, gesturing past the new building. She looks at him, suddenly frightened. She has no idea what coming here today might do to him. How he might react.
‘Right,’ he says.
‘Are you OK?’ she says, placing a hand on the back of his head, stroking his scruffy hair. ‘If not, we don’t have to do this.’
‘I’m OK,’ he says. ‘If I have you, I’m OK.’