Chapter 34
In a daze, Mattie watched the bright lights of south London flash past as her Uber driver swerved to overtake a cyclist. Festive lights and Christmas decorations still adorned shops, despite it being January the third.
It was a stark contrast to the subdued shadows of the damaged Turkish streets she’d left behind barely twenty-four hours ago.
The air was significantly fresher, too. As fresh as London got, at least. Not so clean and clear as Devon.
She sniffed. Was it her imagination, or did that stench of death still linger in her nostrils?
She clutched the bottle of red wine tighter.
Two more streets and she’d be at Shona’s.
Shona had given her an out, saying it was perfectly understandable if she was too knackered to attend her birthday dinner party, or didn’t feel like socialising.
Mattie was exhausted, yes, but being around people was infinitely better than being on her own.
Shona flung the front door open before Mattie had a chance to ring the bell and hugged her.
“Happy birthday!” Mattie thrust the bottle into Shona’s hands.
Shona studied the label. “Ooh, Saint-émilion. My favourite. You know me so well.”
Mattie wolf-whistled. “Gorgeous waistcoat. The steampunk look suits you.”
“Why, thank you. Come through. Everyone else is here.”
Mattie hooked her puffer jacket over the balustrade at the bottom of the stairs and followed Shona into her kitchen.
She’d met Kate and Belinda many times before.
Pooja was new to her and was a doctor at the hospital working alongside Shona.
An eclectic collection of blues and jazz played in the background, and delightful aromas wafted over to the breakfast bar where they sat while Lisa played chef.
It was the stuff of normal, everyday life, but she felt out of kilter.
Mattie swallowed another mouthful of red wine.
The Saint-émilion deserved to be savoured rather than tossed back, but she’d need its hit to have any hope of being sociable.
Lisa placed bowls of tortilla chips and olives in front of her.
Food was also a good thing. She’d eaten a cereal bar and a turkey sandwich she bought on her way home from the airport last night.
That was the closest she’d got to Christmas fare.
Pooja joined her at the kitchen island. “At the risk of sounding starry-eyed, I thought your news reports from Turkey were stunning, especially the ones from the field hospital,” she said. “Oh, and that one about dodgy building constructors.”
“Thank you.” Receiving praise was often awkward, especially when Mattie suspected people were just trying to puff her ego, but the sincerity in Pooja’s voice was clear. Mattie’s personal life might be a train wreck, but professionally, she was back in the game. That was what mattered, right?
Shona sauntered over and draped an arm around Mattie’s shoulders. “What Pooja’s too shy to say is that you’ve inspired her to volunteer for a charity-funded mission to train medical staff in Turkey.”
Mattie smiled widely. “That’s amazing!”
“Yes,” Shona said. “Except that I’ll be losing my best resident doctor for three months.”
“You’ll make such a difference.” Mattie shook her head. “It’s after the main story, when the cameras and attention have moved onto the next bad thing, that places need help. I fear what I’ll find if I go back in a year’s time.”
Shona lifted her eyebrows in challenge. “Maybe you should.”
“Dinner’s served, ladies,” Lisa said, carrying a white dish to the dining table at the opposite end of the open plan room. She placed it between two tall candles. Mattie watched their flickering flames and shuddered involuntarily.
“Let’s take these off to give us more room,” Lisa said quickly.
Mattie caught the look between Shona and Lisa. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her heart racing.
Shona squeezed her hand. “It’s fine.”
Mattie bowed her head, the thrill she’d enjoyed from Pooja’s revelation dissipating rapidly. I’m such a mess. I can’t even cope with a fucking candle.
Chat and laughter buzzed around her. She finished her glass of wine and poured more.
She complimented Lisa on the tasty beef bourguignon, drank more wine, joined in with the conversation, and laughed in the right places.
And drank more wine. At one point, everyone was talking about the idea of hiring a narrowboat for a long weekend on the canals around Oxford.
She didn’t know if she signed up for it or not.
Mattie retold a story about her and Shona in their uni days failing hilariously at paddling a two-person canoe and going around in circles for hours.
In seemingly no time at all, Pooja, Kate, and Belinda were leaving.
While Shona and Lisa saw their guests out, Mattie gathered the dirty dessert bowls and left them next to the dishwasher for Shona to stack in her very specific way. Woe betide anyone who messed it up. The thought made Mattie giggle, which turned into an unsavoury hiccup.
The candles that Lisa had removed from the dining table and placed on the windowsill were still alight.
They were much shorter now, their twin flames flicking yellow around the blackened wick.
Mattie stepped closer and dared herself not to look away.
Her eyes turned fuzzy. Her hands jerked forwards.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Mattie startled at the sharp shout as Shona snatched at her hand. Only then did she realise she’d been flicking the flames with her fingers. “I... I...” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Fuck, Mattie. You’re scaring me,” Shona said.
“I’m scaring myself,” she slurred. “I’m also very, very drunk.”
“Come with me.” Shona took Mattie’s hand and led her upstairs.
The ground beneath Mattie’s feet seemed unstable. “Are we having an earthquake?”
“No,” said Shona, seemingly with oodles of patience.
“Oh.” Mattie frowned. “Where are we going?”
“Bed.”
“Shona?” Mattie jabbed her finger at Shona’s arm. “I know it’s your birthday and everything, but going to bed with you isn’t the present I had in mind.”
Shona laughed. “Thank god!’
“’Cos Lisa, she’s–”
“The best. I know. You, however, are drunk as a skunk and in love with Nell.”
“Not.” Even to Mattie’s own ears, she didn’t sound convincing.
“Are.”
“Neither not!”
“That doesn’t make sense. Sit down.”
Only then was Mattie aware they’d already reached the spare room. The double bed looked heavenly. She slumped, head in hands. “I miss her, Shona.”
Shona sat down on the bed next to her. “Have you texted her?”
“No.”
“She doesn’t even know you’re home?” Shona sounded scandalized.
Mattie shook her head. It had been easier to work, and then do lots more work. “I have sex with my shirt on.”
Shona’s eyes boggled. “Right. Your scars?”
“Yes, my scars. Fucking things. Why is she gonna love me if I can’t show her?” Mattie fumbled for her phone. “If Nell was here right now, I’d strip off for her.”
“It’s not that kind of party,” Shona said, but her face was full of concern.
“So I can show her my scars, you melon.”
Shona plucked the phone from Mattie’s hand. “Drunk texting? Since when did that help?” She knelt down next to the bed. “Foot.”
Mattie held out her right leg for Shona to take off her boots. She felt like a kid, remembering how her mum had done this for her when she couldn’t untie the laces on her muddy trainers. How old had she been? Seven? Eight?
“Other foot.”
She did as she was told. Shona pulled off the second boot and swung Mattie’s legs on to the bed. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Mattie let her pull the duvet over her. “Shona?”
“Hm?”
“Happy birthday.”
Seemingly not long after, daylight sliced through the bedroom window. “Why did you open the curtain?” she mumbled, her tongue too woolly and dry to enunciate properly.
“Because it’s noon, and you need to drink some water.” Shona held out a pint glass. “Starting now.”
Mattie sat up, took the proffered glass and sipped. The water was refreshing, unlike the turmoil in her stomach and the war raging in her head. “Thank you.”
“Come downstairs and have brunch with us,” Shona said. “You need to eat something too.”
“Not hungry.”
But Mattie’s protestations fell on deaf ears once she’d carefully navigated the stairs and flopped down onto a kitchen stool.
“Bacon sarnie?” Lisa asked.
She grimaced and held her hands to her stomach. Even the thought of bacon had her stomach roiling.
Lisa pointed to a loaf of bread. “Toast, if nothing else. Please?”
Mattie grunted her reluctant assent because it was the least offensive of all the options. Juno jumped up onto her lap, and she stroked her. Cats were so much easier to deal with than people.
Shona placed a plate with two pieces of unbuttered toast in front of her. “Eat.”
“I don’t think I can.” Mattie pushed it away. “I should go home and leave you two in peace.”
“Not until you’ve eaten this.”
Mattie pushed the plate away. “I’m not your patient.”
“You wouldn’t be going home if you were,” Shona said.
The quiet but obvious worry on Shona’s face broke Mattie. Without warning, she burst into tears. Shona slid off her stool, wrapped her arms around Mattie’s waist, and pulled her into a comforting embrace.
When she stroked Mattie’s hair, just like her mum used to, Mattie tipped over the edge. “I’m a very ugly crier.” She gulped, wiping her face with the back of her hand.
Lisa placed a box of tissues on the counter. Mattie tugged a handful and blew her nose.
“We’re worried about you,” Shona said gently.
Someone with a tiny and highly irritating hammer had taken up residence inside Mattie’s head. “I’m worried about me,” she finally admitted out loud.
Later, when she was calmer, albeit with sore eyes, she cradled a mug of black tea. “I haven’t felt right for years. Not since I lost Mum.”
Shona leaned into her. “I’m not going to keep banging the therapy drum, but you should at least take some time off work.”