Chapter 47 Andrea
Andrea
“You’re going where?”
“India,” Eliza said. “It’s where biryanis are from. Does that help?”
My sister sat on my sofa, her hair in a topknot. She was eating a Cadbury Creme Egg, the foil peeled down around the edges.
Liam’s calls were becoming less frequent, but the pain in my chest still hadn’t gone. Thank God I had my sister around. I’d leaned on her so much since the breakup. Usually, she drove me crazy, but right now, she was the only reason I was still even vaguely sane.
“Why are you eating that?” I asked. “It’s not Easter.”
“Heaven forbid we eat out-of-season chocolate.” She smiled and handed me an egg. “Want one?”
Next to her, Mr. Darcy was drooling onto the cushions.
“Yes, thanks … but … when are you going?” It was nearly the end of September, and she was due back at uni next week.
“I’m not going, Andy.” She licked the white and yellow fondant from inside the egg and then nibbled off a piece of chocolate.
“But you just said—”
She rolled her eyes. “Back to uni.”
“What?”
“I’m not going back. I’m done.”
She stopped licking the egg.
“Did you seriously just tell me you’re quitting law?”
“I did, and I am.” She stuffed the last of the egg into her mouth and looked down at her phone, her finger poised to scroll.
“Don’t talk rubbish.”
“Excuse me?” She put the phone down and looked up, still chewing.
“You can’t, Eliza. People would kill to get in to law.”
“Well, people”—she popped it into air quotes—“can have it.”
I looked at the wine bottle on the coffee table. “Are you drunk?”
“No, I am not. That’s from the weekend. Remember?”
I did. We’d had more than a couple of slightly tipsy, tearful chats about Liam over the past couple of weeks. She was firmly team Liam—she couldn’t seem to understand why what he’d done felt like such a betrayal.
Was that how I’d missed that she was unhappy? Had I been too focused on myself?
I felt a flutter in my chest.
“But you’re doing really well,” I said. “Your grades are good. You never said you were unhappy.”
“I’m not that unhappy. It’s just not for me.”
“Eliza.” I sat on the end of the sofa. “Don’t joke around, this is serious. You’ve got a lot riding on this. It’ll set you up for the future.”
“I’ve done two years, Andy, and I don’t like it. Remember, I said I wasn’t sure before I even applied. But you and Mum were so keen. You said if it didn’t work out, at least I’d have given it a shot. Well, I gave it a shot, it hasn’t worked out, and I want to cut my losses.”
My ears buzzed like a hair dryer was blowing on them.
“Cut your losses?”
“My time. I’ve got other things I want to do. Law doesn’t fit into that.”
“But … you already took two years out before you started. And it was so hard to get in.”
“Does that mean I have to stay then?”
“Unless you’ve got something better lined up, yes.” I folded my arms.
“Christian’s already over there. In Sri Lanka.”
“Who the heck is Christian?” I asked.
“Mum’s friend, the gallery one. He sold up. He’ll be in India in two weeks. I’m meeting him there.”
“But he’s, like, forty.”
“So what? We’re not shagging. He’s just a friend,” she said.
“And what do you plan to do there, exactly? Laze around smoking weed?”
“Content production. Visual. Commercial.”
I stared at her. “Please don’t tell me you’re quitting a law degree to be an Instagram influencer. In India.”
“Please, Andy, don’t talk to me like I’m a child. This is Western galleries and hotels. People who actually pay. They need proper visual assets for websites and things. I’ve already been doing it. That’s how I saved up to go.”
No. This was insane. She was the clever one—scatty, but brilliant. She just needed the right guardrails to make the most of it.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“But you do?”
“This isn’t a game. This is the real world. Shit happens, things go wrong.”
How did she not remember this? That everything could change in an instant, and you could never be too careful? You needed to take the right steps to make sure everything stayed … safe.
“You need something solid behind you,” I said. “Pissing about being a content creator in Goa is not that.”
Mr. Darcy hopped off the sofa and shuffled into the kitchen.
“I’ve already decided, Andy. I’m going.”
I felt myself grow cold. This isn’t a good idea, Eliza. It’s dangerous. You don’t even know Christian, not really. And you’ve never been to Asia—anything could happen.
“Be sensible,” I said. “You’re clever, and you’re good at law. Really good.”
“This isn’t your life, Andy, it’s mine. And just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you should do it, or that it’s going to make you happy.”
“But … you were the best in your class at English. How can you think of wasting your talent?”
“Like you have?”
The words stung like a slap.
“Like I have? You mean putting my art to one side so I could make sure you got the support you need?”
“I never asked you to be my mum. Or my career adviser.”
“Your mum?” Wow. “Yeah, right. You didn’t actually ask. But you didn’t complain when I was putting a roof over your head and making sure you got to uni on time because your head’s barely even screwed on. I stepped in with support because someone had to.”
Like Dad would have done, if he’d been here.
Or maybe Mum … if she’d been able to.
“Andy, I know I’ll always be about eleven to you, but I’m much more capable than you think. I know what I want. You’re the one whose life is in the shitter.”
“My life is not in the shitter!”
“Okay.”
“It’s not.”
She looked at me. “You know, Andy, you insist on doing everything, even when people don’t want you to.
You always smooth it all over, like nothing can ever be messy.
It’s like you think that’s winning at life, or something.
Well, it’s not. It’s about having the guts to know what you want and then doing it.
Nobody asked you to give up your art. You decided to drop it and tell yourself it was for me so you could justify giving up anyway.
Because you were always scared that if you tried, you might fail. ”
“I’m not scared,” I said. “That’s not—”
“Are you sure?” She looked down at her phone but didn’t open it.
“Stop trying to make it about me.”
“I’m just telling you something you already know. That’s why you don’t like hearing it. And it’s the same with you and Liam.”
“What? This is nothing like Liam and me.”
“It’s exactly like you and Liam. He adores you, and you adore him.
It’s so damn obvious, the way he looks at you.
You’ve been in bits since all this happened, I know you never stop thinking about him.
But you’re so scared that maybe if you care too much, maybe if you love someone for real instead of just looking after them like a stray cat, it might not work out, and then you’ll be fucked, so you’ve pushed him away. ”
I felt my eyes start to sting.
“That’s not true,” I said quietly.
“It is, Andy. But if you don’t want to know, that’s up to you.” Eliza slid her phone open and started to scroll. “Just … don’t try to make me feel guilty for living the life I’m meant to lead just because you’re not living yours.”