Chapter Eighteen #2
Eventually, I can’t keep going. I come to a hidden patch of sand in the dunes and turn down it.
My knees buckle and I collapse into the golden patch of sand surrounded by a wall of tall, waving grass.
My chest is on fire from trying to breathe in enough oxygen to keep going.
I hug my knees to my chest and my gasps for air disintegrate into sobs.
I can’t stop the tiny wails which come out from deep down inside me, and I don’t think I want to. My life has fallen apart.
I couldn’t save my business and I’m going to lose my home.
Despite what I told Greg, I don’t have the confidence to try the photography idea.
My best friend in the world won’t even look at me and neither now will my parents.
Jackson hates me.
Sophie is going to die and I want to scream at the top of my lungs that it’s not fair.
I rock back and forth, my fingernails digging into my legs. My shoulders are shuddering from the simple effort of trying to get a breath.
‘Ellie?’
I hold my breath at the sound of Milo’s voice, praying he’ll walk straight past me. But the grasses sway as he walks through them.
He crouches down next to me and pulls me against him, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. ‘Ellie. It’s OK. I got you,’ he murmurs into my hair.
The comforting touch of another human being undoes me.
My body turns to jelly and I melt into Milo’s chest. My mouth is open from the wet, snotty sobs which vibrate through me.
He holds me close and bit by bit, my breathing regulates, and the thumping of my heart lessens.
They are replaced by my shame. What the hell will Milo think of me?
His hands haven’t moved. Just held a constant reassuring pressure around me as his cheek rests on the top of my head. I struggle to sit up and shuffle back a little, putting space between us.
‘Are you OK?’ His voice is gentle and enquiring as his fingers hold my chin softly for a second.
I rub my face clear of tears. ‘Everything got on top of me.’ I’m working so hard to keep my voice from wailing.
‘What can I do to help?’
I shake my head and finally feel composed enough to meet his eyes. ‘Nothing. It is what it is.’
‘There’s always something. Is it Jackson? I know he’s being a dick. He’s upsetting Mum now, too.’
‘It’s not all his fault.’
Milo tilts his head at me with a frown.
I swallow. ‘I’m so sorry about the letter I sent to the council. I know I ruined everything. And on top of what your mum’s going through …’ My words trail away. A simple apology doesn’t seem big enough.
‘Is that what’s eating you? It’s fine. Going full-time with the café was always a bit of a gamble. I can still use it for festivals and stuff. I don’t mind going back to the mechanic work.’
‘I’m not sure that’s how Jackson feels,’ I mumble, my eyes dropping to the sand again.
‘My brother doesn’t know what he’s feeling at the moment.
Anyway, the café is mine, not his. And I’m telling you it’s all good.
I sort of get the best of both worlds to be honest. The camper for events, but I get to hide in my garage as my day job.
The café was a bit too peopley at times.
At least with the garage I get a small dose of people, but I also get time to myself.
It just might mean I have less time for my restoration projects, that’s all. ’
‘Really?’ I stare at him hopefully. ‘I’m still really sorry though.’ My eyes begin to water again.
His fingers close gently around my arm. ‘What else is eating at you?’
I sigh. ‘Reeni’s not talking to me because I was vile to her. My parents are furious with me, and I should be organising the photography barbecue evening because I know it’s a good idea, but I’m too chicken. I’m fucking useless.’ I bury my head in my hands.
Milo pulls my hands down. ‘What’s stopping you doing the photography thing?’
‘Reeni was going to help and organise the food. I can’t do it all on my own.’
There’s a pause in the conversation. Milo is scooping up sand and letting it drain through his fingers.
‘I’ll help,’ he says. ‘I’ll bring the van. The Beach House is private property, so I won’t need a licence. I’ll do the food and drink for you. It can be my first trial run at a private event.’
‘Would you?’ A tiny glimmer of light begins to glow in my head.
‘Of course. When were you going to do it?’
‘Next week. I made up some posters, but I haven’t put them up anywhere.’
‘Come on, then.’ Milo is on his feet, his arm extended to offer me his hand. ‘No time like the present.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind helping?’ I say, as he pulls me to his feet.
He tilts his head with a frown. ‘That’s a daft question. Why wouldn’t I help?’ He reaches out and squeezes me close as I cling to him, his gentle touch comforting.
We break apart slowly. ‘As long as you don’t get a black eye for your troubles,’ I say, looking up at him.
He chuckles. ‘I can handle myself with my brother. Don’t worry about that.’
I smile. ‘How come you’ve not been swept off your feet by a good woman?’
‘Ah. Plenty of women have tried. I’m picky. And the one I wanted was already taken.’ He winks at me. ‘Now, before you chicken out again, we are going to do this.’ His eyes travel back and forth across my face, as his lips twitch into a cheeky grin. ‘Oh, and by the way, you’re not fucking useless.’
I shake my head, laughing softly as I give him a shove, grateful for his friendship even if my heart is somewhere else.
Milo helps me hand out the dozen hand-drawn posters that I’d made up with the details of the photography evening on them.
People were happy to pin them up and everyone commented on what a good idea it was.
A couple of people even signed up then and there to attend.
When we have no more left, he persuades me to go back to his to say hello to his mum on the understanding Jackson won’t be there.
Sophie is awake and sitting up in bed, talking to Sally, when we get there. Now we’re here, Sally gets up to leave. She cups her friend’s cheek, her touch tender, then nods to me and has a quick word with Milo on her way out.
‘Hello, you two,’ Sophie says. ‘Jackson’s not here.’ She directs the last statement at me.
‘I don’t think he wants to see me.’
She shakes her head.
‘Do you want a drink, Mum?’ asks Milo.
‘An ice water would be lovely.’ She pats the bed beside her. ‘Ellie, come sit. I want to know all about your new venture.’
I push the blanket covering Sophie’s legs to one side and perch on the edge of her bed. Tippi is curled up in a dog bed by the bedside table.
‘I wasn’t going to go ahead with it, but Milo’s persuaded me to give it a go.’
‘Good. You’ll be brilliant. I’ve seen those photos that adorn your Beach House walls. They are fabulous, you’ll be a great teacher. You have a lot of talent. I’d be doing it myself if I was stronger. Did Sarah, Eve and Tina enrol?’
I narrow my eyes at her. ‘Was that you?’
She laughs. It’s a light tinkling sound and I wonder again how someone can be so at peace with themselves, with everything they know about their future.
‘I thought you might need a nudge to make sure it went ahead. Getting your first customers was my way of helping.’
I want to hug her, but she looks so fragile I’m scared I’d break her.
‘What are you doing here?’ I jump as Jackson’s voice sears through the calm in the room. His tense frame fills the doorway.
‘We were talking.’ My voice is shaky. I can’t bear that he thinks of me the way he does.
‘Jackson,’ his mum begins, but he overrides her.
‘Mum needs peace and quiet. She doesn’t need your negativity.’
He’s walking towards us, and I get off the bed and edge around him towards the door. Milo has joined us now.
‘Bro. Lay off her. Ellie was just saying hello. Mum loves the company.’
‘Mum would like the company of people that want her to get better,’ Jackson snaps.
The brothers face each other and the air between them crackles with hostility.
‘You’re no better.’ Jackson’s voice has risen in volume. ‘Why am I the only one that wants Mum to get better?’
‘That’s because I’m living in the real …’
‘Boys.’ Sophie pushes her blanket aside and lowers her legs slowly over the edge of her bed. ‘Stop this. I’m here. Don’t talk about me as if I’m not in the room.’ She’s walking towards us, each step small.
‘Mum!’ Jackson is next to her in two strides. ‘Mum, be careful. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’
Sophie takes the arm he’s offering her. ‘Jackson, you know I love you, but we have to talk. Now.’
He’s lifting her legs back up onto the bed and tucking the blanket around her. ‘No, we don’t. I’m sorry we upset you. It won’t happen again.’
‘You didn’t upset me.’ She holds on to his arm and looks over at Milo and me. ‘Would you give us some space, please? Tippi could do with a toilet break. And close the door behind you.’ She pulls Jackson down to sit where I had been a few minutes earlier.
Tippi trots out on the mention of toilet and Milo and I follow her. He hovers by the closed door, leaning his ear towards it. There’s a muffled sound of voices, but they’re low and it’s impossible to hear what’s being said.
I tug on his arm. ‘We shouldn’t listen.’
He grimaces. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Come on, let’s give them some space.’
We go out into the back garden. Tippi snuffles through the flower beds and Milo paces back and forth across the width of the small garden.
‘What do you think they’re saying?’
I shrug. ‘I don’t know.’ I’m trying to put myself in Sophie’s position and imagine what their conversation might be, but I’m finding it impossible.
‘I’ve tried to make him see sense. Face what’s happening, but he shoots me down every time.
It’s starting to upset Mum.’ Milo is rubbing his hands together, agitated.
‘He’s making it worse for her and things are hard enough.
It shouldn’t be her job to make him see sense.
I should have been able to take that stress away. ’
I lay a hand gently on his arm. ‘Maybe she’s the only one who can make him face up to it.’
We sit down on the plastic garden chairs in silence, the only sound the occasional chirp of birdsong. After what feels like an eternity, Tippi gives a high-pitched whine. She’s standing by the back door, wanting to go back inside.
‘She wants to go back to Mum,’ says Milo, getting to his feet.
We go back inside, and Milo stops in the hallway. There are no voices coming from Sophie’s bedroom now. Milo looks at me uncertainly. ‘Should I let her in?’ He nods towards Tippi, who is standing staring at the bedroom door, her tail waving.
I nod. He steps forwards and opens the door.
Tippi trots in happily, heading straight for her bed.
Milo stiffens beside me and his knuckles whiten as he grips the door handle.
I move to be next to him and what he’s looking at rips a chasm straight through the middle of my heart.
Jackson has his back to us and is lying on the bed next to his mum, his knees bent up so he’s in the foetal position.
His head is on her chest and she’s stroking his hair tenderly, like she did when she was comforting me.
Sophie lifts her head to look at us. Even from here, you can see her eyes are red and puffy.
She nods to us, then drops her head to look back at Jackson.
Milo closes the door and Jackson and his mum disappear from view, although I don’t think it’s a sight I will ever forget and my heart aches for the pair of them.