Page 52 of The Promise of Tomorrow
Over 1 pint, Gary and I put together a night out next Tuesday. We were drinking in the Three Horseshoes and the sign was still up for the Christmas quiz night next week. Our marketing team is made up of 15 people. The landlord said he had two tables left, but would squeeze in another to accommodate us, seeing as we were regular customers. Each quizteam needed 5 people. To be honest – and it galls me to compliment that lad – Gary smashed it as on the way back to work, he stopped at the small bookshop opposite and asked for the latest novel that people were most talking about. He didn’t even read the blurb, but Elena was almost in tears when he handed it over. It had been on her wish list. Gary said he still had the receipt and would take it back if she talked any more nonsense from having let the staff down.
I’m worried about her, having seen what my neighbour, Julian, went through when he got stressed. How his illness grew and grew way out of control, affecting his whole life. Was Elena suffering that badly? Has she got the same, specific problem as him?
No. Surely not. Not Elena. For sure the fortune teller will give her all the answers she needs, and explain away the promise, ending the sense of dread once and for all.
At least, I hope so.
I don’t want Elena to lose her life.
I don’t want to lose Elena.
3 calls to Morag Macbay’s landline number, but it kept ringing out.
240 miles from Cariswell to Leith, just over 4 hours driving; we’re setting off at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Elena insisted we take her car.
2 rooms booked at a B&B.
2 1/2 hours Elena vanished for tonight. She went upstairs as soon as we got home, but wasn’t in her room when I called her for dinner, and I had to go up. I didn’t ask questions when she came down and simply reheated her risotto. She looked much happier and that’s what counts.
For 20 minutes we stared at the new stick insect tank, after Elena had eaten, willing Brandy and Snap to go on thenew rope bridge. But I guess they aren’t that sort of pet. Brandy moved a little, from leaf to leaf, but Snap was so still we had to poke her, gently, to check she was okay. We’d set the tank up last night, after getting back from Jimmy’s. It was late but Elena hadn’t been sleeping well and a hot chocolate was enough incentive to help her. On the way home tonight we stopped to cut more bramble leaves. The large tank doesn’t fit with the well-planned-out lounge, but Elena doesn’t care. I… I had to turn away and gather myself when she said that. If anything happened to her next week, I had to promise to keep them in the big tank. Her voice was quite matter of fact.
1 Post-it note left out on the breakfast bar, in the kitchen. Elena had written herself a reminder to check her will was in order. I wanted to screw it up into a tiny ball and throw it away. It was another example of how full of common sense she is. A wave of nausea takes me by surprise every time I think about her birthday, next weekend. My insides are knotted. I’m not sleeping either but I didn’t tell Elena that – this is about her, not me. Even though losing her would tear my heart into 1,000 pieces.
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 Rorygladly 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-readingThe 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 wasThelma 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 theirholidays, before they had me… like zip-wiring and rock-climbing.’
‘Really? Could that be where your passion for adventure comes from?’
