Chapter 34
34
ELENA
Elena reached for her water bottle. ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham! had spooked her. Rory had insisted they play festive songs on the way up to Scotland. Three hours in and they’d jingled bells with Frank Sinatra and wished Slade a Merry Christmas. Thirty minutes had been added on to their journey due to a Christmas tree falling off the roof of a van. She turned off at the services for a quick lunch. Rory had rung Morag’s number again, but still no one picked up.
Her parents had invited them round for Sunday lunch tomorrow. She hadn’t told them they were going to Scotland. Instead, Elena texted first thing today and said she and Rory had a work emergency this weekend. She hated lying, but what was the alternative? Sorry Mum and Dad, going up to Scotland to find a fortune teller I promised my life away to when I was ten. Elena said she’d see them next Saturday for her birthday party.
The wind blew more strongly the further north they went from Manchester, and grateful to be inside, she and Rory ordered burgers. Elena forgot to ask for no pickles and Rory gladly took her slice before he’d even taken off his beanie hat, scarf and tie-dye coat.
‘How are you feeling?’ he said as they sat at a table by a window, watching cars park up.
‘Dunno. Morag might not even be there.’ But at least I’m with you . Precious time . ‘Thanks for coming. I appreciate the support.’
‘No problem. I’ve only been to Edinburgh once and that was years ago.’ He twisted the beaded bracelet around his wrist.
‘For an extreme sport?’
‘No. With school. We toured historic buildings and went to the theatre. Our teacher made us taste haggis. I was the only one who liked it. But I hated the trip.’
‘Why?’
‘It was the tenth anniversary of Mum’s death whilst I was away. All the other mums were there to wave off their children, or so it seemed, when the coach left. I was twelve, almost a teen, and it hit me harder than it ever had before. I’d only recently found out the reason Mum got ill and…’
‘Was it cancer?’ she asked gently.
His head jerked up and down.
Elena put down her burger and leaned forwards, but Rory clammed up.
‘We had a trip to Swanage,’ she said. ‘Some hills were so steep we climbed them on our hands and knees. Even back then I was more bookish than sporty and was happiest sitting on the coach with a bag of crisps, re-reading The Hobbit .’
Rory smiled. ‘I… I sat on the coach to Edinburgh cheered by how excited Mum would have been, on my behalf. Her favourite film was Thelma and Louise . Dad said she loved travel and had always dreamt of backpacking; that she was something of an adventurer and, to please her, he’d do these activities on their holidays, before they had me… like zip-wiring and rock-climbing.’
‘Really? Could that be where your passion for adventure comes from?’
He shrugged. ‘S’pose. That’s what Dad’s always said.’
‘I feel a but, ’ she said.
‘I’ve thought a lot about her lately – how her death has affected my life. Guess I’ve wanted to be like her, but lately it’s not given me the same satisfaction. Other things have given me the buzz I used to crave… Like football. I actually like watching it. A lot. Also, since moving in with you, I…’ His neck flushed red. ‘A change in circumstances has given me a fresh perspective on life.’
‘How?’
He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Eventually he spoke. ‘It’s made me look at what really makes me happy – what gives me that natural high.’
Elena sucked on her straw, the coke fizzing in her mouth. He didn’t need to say it – that it was her impeding death that had made him reassess his life.
She tilted her head. ‘I could be wrong but… I’ve got another take on your sporting hobbies. When Mum… When I believed she was going to die, I sat, in shock, alone in my room, having just spoken to Dad on the phone and hearing him cry, understanding that her condition couldn’t have been more serious. My parents had been saving for a full-on week in London. They wanted us to go and see all the sights, catch a West End show, visit the Crown Jewels. Then there was the voluntary work Mum talked about. She said when I was all grown-up, she might take a sabbatical and teach children in Africa for a few months. I swore, then and there, that if she died, I’d do those things on her behalf, imagining that, somehow, she’d be looking down, stil l living her life, through me.’ Elena raised an eyebrow. ‘Have you been doing these adventurous sports on behalf of your mother, rather than simply having inherited her enthusiasm for them?’
Rory hadn’t taken a bite of burger or sipped his drink; he’d continued to fiddle with his bracelet, listening intently. It snapped at her words and beads crashed down to the ground. They collected as many of them up as they could and sat opposite each other once more.
‘Christ. You might be right,’ he said. ‘I’ve never thought of it like that. On that coach to Edinburgh, when her death hit me hard, it all being new to me that there was someone to blame for her cancer…’
He broke eye contact for a second.
What did he mean? What wasn’t he telling her? ‘Want to talk about it?’ she asked gently.
Rory shook his head and swiftly continued with his story. ‘As soon as I got back to Manchester, I asked Dad if he could book zip-wiring. Guess it began from then. At the time, I wanted to do it, simply to feel closer to Mum. But then, doing activities like that somehow became my thing . Maybe they’ve not been my thing after all. Perhaps they’ve been hers all along.’
‘And I get it. But Rory… you don’t have to do those things any more. You are your own person. She’d want you to honour that .’
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Snickers bar. ‘I still eat her favourite chocolate bar. Never have really liked it.’
Elena reached forwards and took it from him. ‘Good thing I do. What do you really like?’
‘Brittle honeycomb chocolate. Nice and crunchy.’
Despite his protests, Elena got up and went into the services’ newspaper shop. Swiftly, she returned, bearing a giant honeycomb bar. She placed it in front of him .
‘It’s time that you did you, Rory Bunker. Like with that fashion sense that got you noticed in Paris.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘Yes, my way of dressing is certainly nothing to do with Mum. Dad said she lived in sweatpants and hoodies.’ His eyes shone. ‘I miss her. Is that weird as I haven’t any concrete memories?’
‘You have,’ said Elena softly, and she placed a hand over his chest. ‘In there. Memories don’t have to be visual. They can come from emotions.’
Rory placed his hand over hers. Elena so wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to get as close as possible, to do all she could to make him feel better. But she wouldn’t let that happen. His mum’s death had affected him for years. She mustn’t get closer only to be torn away; it wouldn’t be fair on him. In any event, the attraction was all one way.
Elena finished her drink. ‘Morag may not be a villain. I was never afraid of her – just afraid of the promise, afraid of losing Mum.’
‘We’ll see.’ He frowned. ‘From everything Jimmy’s said, she was a decent enough person and as I’ve said before… about mutualism… it doesn’t make sense to me that she’d save your mum but take your life. Yet you are so adamant about the deal that was made.’ His expression darkened.
Elena felt suddenly toasty and warm inside at how angry Rory felt on her behalf.
‘On a brighter note, have you contacted Nicole yet?’ she asked, in a voice breezier than the wind outside. ‘You must, if only to see the look on Gary’s face when you arrange to meet her.’
Rory didn’t reply for a moment and then squared his shoulders. ‘No. She’s not the woman for me, flattering as her attention was. Okay, this is me doing me now. I’m not a model, I’m Rory Bunker, marketing bod, who’s a mediocre karaoke singer and satisfactory stir-frier; a man who gets emotionally blackmailed by stick insects, and speaks a smattering of X-rated Urdu. A man who, right at this minute, would rather be sitting here, with you, eating out of a cardboard box, than posing in a Michelin restaurant by the Seine.’
As if his words had tied her to a hot air balloon, and she was twirling like a feather, higher and higher in warm, sunny air, Elena polished off the last mouthful of her burger and went on to devour the chocolate bar, feeling as fizzy as the Coke in her cup.