Chapter 18 #2
After that, the clippings related to Livvie were mainly about the inquest into her death a few months later, an inhumane process that had only amplified our pain given that the driver of the van in question had never expressed any sorrow or regret to us about what had happened.
Not that it was his fault, of course – and he was probably following some kind of legal advice – but, still, it would’ve helped.
I put the clippings back in the box, with the exception of one, and replaced the lid as Tom appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray with a mug of tea and a plate heaped high with jam-smeared toast. It was as if he’d read my mind – it was approaching eleven o’clock and I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, which was unheard of for me.
‘Thanks so much. I can’t express just how much I appreciate all of this.’
‘There’s nothing to thank me for. How’s it all going?’ He sat down next to me.
‘Yeah, I’m done. I didn’t linger over much of it to be honest.’
‘I bet.’
I took a slurp of the deliciously sweet tea and made an enthusiastic start on the toast. Tom cocked his head to the side as he watched me. ‘You eat toast upside down.’
I pointed to my working jaw before responding, mouth still half-full.
‘It’s so the sweet side hits my taste buds first. It’s revelatory. Here, try it.’
I offered him the plate and he selected the smallest square, flipping it over in an exaggerated motion and placing it in his mouth whole. His eyes widened as the effect took hold.
‘Shit, you’re right.’
‘Welcome to the rest of your life. More?’
‘Nah, I’m good. I’m going to have to get going in a bit as I’ve got a couple of work things I need to sort out.’
Work? Oh God, I’d completely forgotten it was a Wednesday. Tom must’ve called into my place on his way to the office. Little had he known he’d be walking into a full-blown emotional crisis.
‘Shit, Tom, I totally forgot what day it was. Honestly, you should get going. I quite fancy walking back to the cottage from here once I’m done.’
‘You really need to stop calling that place a cottage, Mal. And only if you’re not just saying that to ease my guilt for leaving you here?’
No one else called me Mal. I liked it.
‘Honestly, no guilt needed. Yeah, I think it’ll do me some good after looking at all this stuff. Since I’ve been back, the only places I’ve visited are Big Tesco, here, The Star and the definitely-not-a-cottage. I think it’s time I saw some more.’
‘Okay, if you’re absolutely, absolutely sure?’
‘I’m double-absolutely sure. But thanks for caring. I mean that, Tom. I have no idea how I would’ve got through the last few days if it hadn’t been for you. And your mum, of course.’
There were those tell-tale blotches again. I suddenly remembered the ‘Tomelia’ clip I’d watched just a couple of hours earlier, which had somehow been relegated to the least important part of the day already.
‘There’s absolutely no need to thank me. Spending this time with you over the last few days is probably the nicest time I’ve had in years.’
I snorted. ‘You mean, with the exception of me vomiting, wailing and injuring you with random objects?’
He shrugged and looked down at his hands, tapping his fingertips together rapidly. ‘All of it.’
Crikey, that wasn’t far off Mark Darcy’s ‘just as you are’ comment in Bridget Jones’s Diary .
‘Oh. Thanks. That’s nice of you to say.’
Tom seemed to be weighing something up in his mind.
To fill the pause, I reached for my cup of tea and took another sip, making the mandatory ‘aah’ noise once I’d swallowed. The motion appeared to have afforded him the time he needed before turning to me.
‘Right, so, how about this for an idea. And please say no if this is really inappropriate timing… but I’ve got this Christmas thing with one of my clients tonight and you’d be doing me a massive favour if you fancied tagging along?
He’s the owner of the Tapas Den chain and each year he gifts me a slap-up dinner for two.
I’ve tried to wheedle my way out of it this year but he refuses to take no for an answer – even after I told him that, well, there is no “two” any more and hasn’t been for quite some time.
So he’s insisting on joining me for the meal instead, if I can’t find anyone to take.
Which is very generous of him but, well, honestly I don’t know what I’d talk to him about all night.
I mean, he’s a lovely bloke and everything, but…
argh, God, sorry, I’m rambling. Anyway. If you fancy a free meal with me tonight it’s yours for the taking. What do you say?’
Was Tom Brinton asking me out on a date? Or was I just a convenient plus one? Either way, the prospect of eating out tonight was much more appealing than the tinned Fray Bentos pie that was waiting for me back at the rental.
‘What about your mum? Would she not want to come with you?’
Oh God, did I just inadvertently turn down Tom Brinton and suggest he go out with his mother instead of me?
‘Nah, sadly it’s not the kind of place she can access easily. You’ll see what I mean if you come. So, what do you reckon?’
‘Yeah, go on, then. Where would I need to be and when?’
‘Amazing. I’ll book you a car – the table’s booked for seven thirty so it’ll pick you up at seven if that works?’
‘Perfect.’
‘Great! I’ll WhatsApp you later to confirm the car details. And if you change your mind before then it’s no problem at all, just let me know.’
‘Will do.’
‘You’re sure you’re all right?’
‘Yep, I’m sure. Did you say tapas?’
The last time I’d been out for tapas had been with Elle, Rory and one of his colleagues, who they’d been trying to set me up with for months. As soon as he’d helped himself to four out of five calamari rings that we’d agreed to share, I’d known he wasn’t the one.
‘Yup, is that okay? You don’t have any food allergies or anything?’
‘Oh no, it’s nothing like that… but I should probably warn you that I’ve never been on board with this whole “small plates” thing.
So if I get all territorial over my food, please don’t take it personally.
I guess that’s what growing up with a ravenous older brother…
and a cheeky little sister… does to you. ’
Dropping Livvie into conversation like this was unheard of. But I wanted to hear myself talk about her. I wanted others to hear it, too.
‘Understood. Righty-o, I’ll leave you to your topsy-turvy toast.’
‘Your mum won’t mind me staying here without you?’
‘Of course not. I’ll let her know I’m leaving. See you tonight, Mally.’
Jo came back in a couple of moments later and settled into her chair, exhaling with relief as she sat down.
‘Ooh, that’s better. How’re you doing, love?’
‘I’m okay. All done. Thanks so much for letting me look through these.’
‘I hope you don’t mind that I kept them all – I guess it might seem a bit morbid keeping every last clipping, but it was just my way of coping with it back then, you know?’
‘There’s nothing to apologise for, Jo – Tom told me you enjoy collecting things.’
Jo gestured around the room. ‘You probably could’ve figured that out for yourself!’
I pulled my coat on as we approached the front door, relieved that I could leave my hood down: this was the first time the rain had let up all week.
‘Mally, sweetheart, there’s just one thing I wanted to let you know about before you head off… Tom said you’re staying next to The Star?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Okay, so I’m not assuming which way you’re going to walk or anything like that, but given the most direct route between here and there I thought you should know that, well, love, your old house on Oldville Close has recently gone on the market.’
23 Oldville Close, Scarnbrook . Home. For a moment I couldn’t believe the ‘new’ owners would be selling it so soon after they’d bought it from us.
But then I realised it’d been two bloody decades – more than enough time for them to have made it their own, maybe even had a kid or two who’d be all grown up by now.
‘Oh. Gosh.’
‘I hope you don’t mind me telling you, it’s just that my good friend Jenny lives round the corner and she happened to tell me about the “for sale” sign last week. I just thought I should mention it if you did happen to wander that way.’
In truth, I hadn’t thought about which way I was going to walk. But she was right – the obvious way would take me right past the end of my old cul-de-sac.
I puffed out my cheeks. ‘Thanks, Jo. For everything, I mean. You and Tom have been so, so kind to me this week.’
Kindness that I hadn’t really seen – or maybe even sought out – for many years.
‘Oh, Mally love, you deserve so much kindness. I hope you know that. You were always the giver. I think it’s about time you took a little back.’
I nodded, more tears escaping.
‘Thanks for saying that. Do you mind if I take this?’ I held up the lone newspaper clipping I’d only just noticed I was still clutching, dabbing my eyes with a sleeve-shrouded fingertip.
‘Oh of course not. You can have them all if you like.’
‘No, just this one.’
It was the one that featured the photo of Josh. As I said goodbye to Jo, I opened my backpack and tucked the clipping into an inner pocket that had its own zip. It was a satisfyingly perfect fit. It was as if I was meant to have it.