Chapter 6 #3
We’d both known why she was giving me the necklace; that had been a summer of lasts together.
She’d folded my hand around the coin and then her own skeletal fingers around mine, then made me promise to look after Dad.
Neither of us could have predicted how hard he would take her death, though, drowning himself in booze every night and pushing away every attempt I made to intervene.
It would take me a good few years to stop trying, and now, every time I held the coin in my fist like I had that day, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d failed them both.
But at least I had Gwenynen. At least I’d helped Mom and Jen’s dream come true.
I opened the voicemail; I couldn’t avoid it any longer.
Dad’s voice came through slowly, sounding slurred but hopeful.
“Hey, Teddy. Big match on Friday, thought you might wanna—” He stopped, like he’d suddenly lost steam, then sighed.
“I know you’re busy. Just thought, if you’re around, you could come watch.
I’ll order pizza.” He hung up before saying goodbye.
I felt a pang of guilt, but I must have reminded him half a dozen times in the last month when I was leaving. I texted him:
TEDDY
I’m in Wales again. Season started. Let me know how the game goes though?
I watched the little “Read” receipt pop up almost instantly, then nothing.
* * *
The next morning, rain hammered the valley until nearly nine, then paused just long enough to lure the birds into a raucous chorus.
I seized the window – every farmer knows not to waste a dry spell – and followed Willow out into the garden, where she got out her cabin fever-induced zoomies.
The bench in front of the retaining wall was still damp, but I perched on it anyway, boots planted in the black mud, face to the pale sun.
Once Willow calmed down, she did her sniffy rounds, nose deep in every tuft of grass, then trotted back and stretched at my feet, content to nap now that she’d inspected the immediate vicinity.
I let my mind wander – I thought about the hives, the soap, the roster of vegetables that needed attention – until a flash of colour caught my eye up the lane.
It was Chloe, striding up the gravel drive in a bright yellow raincoat that stood in stark contrast against the grey and green around her.
It was splattered with mud – I could tell that even from here – and her hair looked like it had lost a fight with a hedge based on the number of leaves caught in it.
She was out of breath by the time she made it up the drive, but she didn’t once slow down.
I stood as she got closer. “You walked here?” I called. I guess I’d seen her arrive on foot before, but the surprise of her identity had overshadowed that particular detail.
She stopped, her hands on her hips, and tried to play it cool, but her cheeks were red, and she looked about three seconds from passing out. “Yeah,” she said, clearly trying to pretend like it was nothing. “Bus dropped me in the village. Not too bad once you get past the murder geese.”
I blinked. “That’s almost two miles away.”
Chloe shrugged, but her hands trembled a bit as she raised them. “I’m pretty sure I was an ultramarathoner in another life, so it’s chill. Plus, it’s only, like, half an hour. If you don’t get lost.” She said it in a way that made me think she had definitely gotten lost.
Irritation pricked at me. It was a bit irresponsible of her, wasn’t it? “You could have called. Jen would have picked you up.”
Chloe looked away, scratching the back of her neck, where rain-damp hair clung to sweat-soaked skin. I averted my gaze, though I wasn’t sure why.
“Didn’t want to be a pain. Plus, I like the scenery. Sheep, hills, existential dread every time I approached a blind corner. Good for the soul.”
I looked her over again. “Okay, well, catch your breath. You’re stressing Willow out.”
We both looked down at Willow, who was wagging her tail at Chloe, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth.
She was very clearly not stressed. But Chloe collapsed onto the bench anyway, nearly missing it as she dropped, and started to pet Willow.
“I’ll rally in a sec. Just need to … recalibrate my respiratory system. ”
I sat next to her, careful to leave a polite amount of air between us. I watched the clouds churn overhead, blue slicing intermittently through the grey, and I both heard and felt Chloe’s breathing slow.
“So,” Chloe said after a minute, “are you going to haze me, or just dump me in the nearest compost heap?”
I turned to her, surprised. “What—”
She gave a small, tight smile. “Seems like maybe you hadn’t gotten the memo I would be joining?”
I shook my head, exhaling slowly. “No, but Jen wants you here, and that’s what matters.” I was telling myself as much as I was telling her. Outright hostility wouldn’t get me anywhere, no matter how much I disagreed with the decision.
She looked down, blinking, and I caught a glimpse of nerves behind all the bravado that had pissed me off so badly on her first day. I felt my annoyance waver slightly, and I heaved out a sigh – half in frustration, half in resignation.
I still didn’t fully trust her, but I’d promised Jen that I would give her a chance. And, in my book, chances were best earned through hard work. So I figured I might as well take her up on her offer to be hazed. At least I’d get some manual labour out of it, if nothing else.
I stood suddenly enough that she flinched.
“You up for some real work then, newbie?”
Chloe grinned, her confidence visibly coming back, and I got the sense that maybe – just maybe – she’d be able to pull her weight after all, even if just out of spite.
“Lay it on me.”