Chapter 27
ALICE
I’m just packing when my phone rings, Georgia’s face flashing on the screen.
The week has gone by quickly, and I’ve started making notes for the article.
I’ve not heard back from Cali in Australia yet, but I’ve found a few more nostalgia sites.
Spence has been working, but I know Georgia is meeting Heather today.
They’re going for lunch. A public place.
Spence has said he wasn’t ready to have her in their home.
Yet. He wanted to give Georgia the chance to meet her in a setting that wasn’t directly attached to safety.
It’s logical. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that part of me is glad that he’s not bringing her into their lives fully. Not yet, anyway.
I swipe the screen. ‘Georgia? You OK?’ I sit down on the bed, my various outfits tried on and discarded lie around me.
‘Yeah. I mean, I guess?’ There is a pause. ‘I just… What if she doesn’t like me?’ Her voice is quiet, a shake to it.
‘Impossible. You are amazing, George. If anything, you should be thinking about whether you like her.’
‘What if I do?’
I take a breath. ‘Then that’s good, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know. She didn’t want me.’
‘That’s not…’ I shake my head and close my eyes briefly.
‘That’s not what happened. Not really. She was just a young girl; she was scared and…
’ I’m struggling to find the words to defend her, but I carry on.
‘It was never about you. It was about facing the responsibility of having a child – that’s what she ran away from. ’ Like a coward.
‘Can you… can you come?’ Her voice is barely there, and I have to take a moment to make sure I heard her correctly.
‘Today?’
‘Yes. I mean, you don’t have to sit with us or anything… I would just… If it all goes bad? I’d just feel better knowing I could come to you.’
‘I don’t know, George. Have you asked your dad?’
‘No. I… No.’
‘George…’
‘Forget it. It was silly. I—’
‘It’s not silly. Look, how about I speak to Spence, and see if he minds me being there? I could wait outside and if it’s all going well you can send me a text or something?’
‘Would you?’ The relief in her voice has me smiling.
I look at the clock. I have time. Just.
‘Can you put your dad on the phone?’
I speak briefly to Spence, explain the situation and we agree that I will stay in the car outside until she feels comfortable.
* * *
The cafe Heather has chosen is popular. Smart. Trendy. All oak and brass fittings. Not too impressive, not too cheap. A Goldilocks of cafes.
My chest is tight as I pull up. I’m across the road, the window just in sight. I spot Heather straight away.
God.
She looks just the same. Slim. Tall. Blonde.
Perfectly made up. That doesn’t bother me, but what is pushing against my ribcage is the fact that I can see how much Georgia looks like her: same long neck, same chin.
She fidgets with a glass of water. Straightens the cutlery.
Then stands, smoothing her jeans down. My hands tighten around the steering wheel as I watch Spence and Georgia approach.
Spence doesn’t kiss her cheeks, or hug her – much to my relief – but the smile is genuine.
Georgia’s eyes are fixed on the floor. The large headphones that I bought her for Christmas are slung around her neck.
She sits down, not looking at her mum, her eyes darting towards my car.
I give her a small smile, even though I’m fairly sure she won’t be able to see me properly.
It takes a while for Georgia to look up.
Heather leans forward, just the right amount.
Not too pushy. Not defensive. There is no sign of the girl I once sat behind in class.
The girl who always wanted to be the centre of attention.
My focus moves towards Spence. He’s nervous.
I can tell in the way he flattens the front of his hair with his palm, the way he’s adjusting his seat. He doesn’t look my way once.
Heather tucks her hair behind her ear, and I don’t think Georgia realises she copies the action. Heather says something and a slow smile creeps across Georgia’s face. I can’t quite see from here, but if I had to guess, I’d say she was blushing. Then she laughs.
I want to feel angry. I want to storm into the cafe and pull them both away from the woman who destroyed my best friend, who would always be in the shadows of her daughter’s birthday.
I never missed the way that Georgia would check the mail, the small hope lingering that maybe this year, she’d get a card from her mother. But as I sit here…
My phone buzzes. I look down.
All good. G. xxx
I blink away the tears that are stinging at the back of my throat and type a quick reply.
Do you want me to stay a bit longer?
Dots appear as Georgia types.
No. She’s nice. Thxs though x
I rub at the sudden sharp pain in my sternum, give the three of them one last look, turn the ignition, and make my way home.
* * *
I’m focusing on packing. Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow I will meet Michael. I need to be ready. I push away the image of the three of them laughing and ordering food from my mind as I sort through my underwear drawer.
I swipe away a tear from my cheek when there is a knock at the door. I ignore it, reaching for a pair of jeans and folding them into my case.
‘Al!’ Spence’s voice. I stand still, heart pounding. ‘Al, open up! It’s me!’
I pull back the corner of the curtain, sinking with relief when I see it’s just him.
‘You left?’ he says, eyebrow raised.
‘Yep.’ I tuck my hand into my pocket. ‘Georgia said she was fine, so…’ I trail off. ‘It looked like it went well?’ I question, even though the words are thick in my throat.
‘Yeah… they’ve… they’ve gone to get ice-cream.’
‘Good. That’s good. Sorry, I’m just packing. I need to go soon.’
‘Can we just talk first?’
‘Sure. I’m just upstairs,’ I say, already turning. Spence follows me, my case open on the bed. I grab a T-shirt, shoving it inside.
‘Al?’ He strides across the room, hand running through his hair, then takes my hands. ‘Slow down.’
‘I can’t. I need to go.’ He opens my fist, frowning at whatever is scrunched inside, then realises it’s a pair of black knickers and swiftly drops them onto my bed.
‘Just take a second. Sit.’ He slumps onto the bed, takes off his glasses and cleans them with the edge of his black T-shirt.
‘Why is this so important to you?’ he asks, sliding his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. He looks tired.
My chest is tight. It’s solstice tomorrow. I need to leave today. It’s a four-hour drive and I want to be there first thing.
I stare at him. ‘You know why.’
‘I don’t think I do.’
‘I need to find him. I need the end of the story. I need—’
‘What?’ He looks up. ‘What is it that you think meeting him will fix?’
I give a sharp laugh. ‘Everything.’
He flinches.
‘This…’ I flick my hand towards the case, the notes scattered around the room. ‘This is the thing that saves me. If I don’t get this story right, then I have nothing, Spence. Nothing.’
He stands, hands on his hips. ‘That’s not true.’
‘It is.’ My voice wavers, despite my best efforts to keep it steady. ‘Michael understands me, he sees me. He—’
‘He doesn’t even know you!’
‘He does!’ I snap. ‘He knows the real me.’
Spence exhales slowly, like he’s counting to ten. ‘He’s writing to someone else, Al. Not you.’
My throat is burning. ‘You don’t know that.’
‘Can you hear yourself right now?’ Spence’s voice is dangerously calm.
‘I have to do this,’ I say quietly. ‘Please, Spence, try to understand. I need the ending, otherwise all of this—’ I gesture a little helplessly ‘—will have been for nothing.’ I look down at my fingers gripping the duvet.
‘Fate brought me to this address for a reason. I need to find out the truth. If I was there—’
‘I brought you to this address.’
I look up.
‘I found it. For you. When you had nowhere else to go. When you were barely getting out of bed—’ he pushes his lips together ‘—I was the one who found this place. Not fate. Me.’
I sit, stunned, his words slamming up a wall between us.
‘I can’t do this any more, Al.’
‘Do what?’
‘This.’ He nods to the notes, the chaos of the room. Me.
Something sharp needles against my ribs. ‘Be a friend? The way I have always been for you? When she left, I was the one who stayed. Who helped you through. Me.’
‘I know.’ He licks his bottom lip. ‘And I will always be grateful for that, but you’ve always been looking for a way out. And I…’ His shoulders slump, his words coming out like a long exhale, quiet and exhausted.
‘I’m done, Al.’
My thoughts fold over themselves. The room feels too small, heat rushing over my skin.
My head is spinning. I don’t even know what he’s trying to say.
‘Done?’ my voice is barely there.
‘With all of this.’ He gestures to the chaos again. ‘With hoping that…’
I glance up at the clock. Time slipping away. ‘Just, let me go…’ I start, and Spence’s attention snaps to me. ‘Let me go meet him. Then we’ll talk. Please, Spence. I have to go.’
He shakes his head, colour running over his cheeks.
‘I know.’ He looks around the room then back to me. ‘You’d rather chase a ghost than see what’s right in front of you.’
He turns and walks out.
The door clicks into the silence.
I sit there. The sounds ringing in my ears. My chest burning.
A gust of wind flutters through the open window, scattering my notes onto the floor. I stare at the closed door then take a deep breath, shove the rest of my clothes into my case and zip it closed.
Michael’s waiting.