Page 37 of Will You Stay Another Day?
‘Fine. I slipped on a coat. Just hurt my hip. A whole lot of fuss over nothing if you ask me. But Dylan had popped by, on his way back from his aunt’s. He took me to hospital.’
‘Glad he was there,’ said Meg.
‘It’s been one thing after another lately. You know that expensive Vegas trip?’ Lili told them how she’d left cancelling the hotel until too late. ‘Harry can’t go, so Dylan said he would, paying his way.’
‘Sounds like the perfect solution,’ said Tommo. ‘You deserve a break and it’ll be great for you to have someone to share the experience with.’
Lili frowned and zipped up her jacket. ‘No – I mean, he’d go on his own. I… I couldn’t face it. That trip was for me and Em.’
‘Not even with decent company?’ said Meg, and she shrugged. ‘A break might do you good. You’ve not had a holiday all year, apart from those few days in London back in early October.’
‘Me go with Dylan?’
‘You’re right. Stupid idea,’ said Tommo, and he put on his helmet. ‘Who in their right mind would want to see Vegas at night with its magical lights.’ He whistled. ‘Imagine biking down the strip.’
‘Or the chance to meet celebrities and see amazing clothes,’ said Meg dreamily.
On the drive home, Lili couldn’t stop thinking about the excitement on Tommo and Meg’s faces. She and Em had booked adjoining rooms, as the trip was a luxury treat, so that they each had a double bed. And Em did snore! She’d ruled out the idea of going to Vegas alone but perhaps travelling with someone new might be… okay.
When she pulled on the drive, Lili took out her phone.
So much for cutting ties. But them just being friends was working, right?
Hi Dylan. Any chance you’ve got an old video player in your warehouse? It’s my day off on Wednesday. Could I come over to look? We can also chat about Vegas!
24
It was always a treat to breakfast in the garden with Bobbin, even if the temperatures hit minus Celsius. With a blanket around her, Lili breathed in her day off, dew heightening the smells of fresh grass and woody soil, whilst the twin boys next door kicked a ball around before school.
She and Bobbin ate breakfast together – cereal and coffee for Lili, the special mix for the robin, along with an upturned dustbin lid on the ground filled with water, for drinking and bathing later.
‘Tommo and Meg reckon I should go to Vegas with Dylan,’ she said, and the robin, as always, stopped to listen. ‘I like him. He makes me laugh. But a holiday together would take our friendship to a whole new level.’ She sighed. ‘Or am I overthinking? You can never have too many friends, right? Perhaps I should just take the plunge. What do you reckon?’
Bobbin cocked its head. A raisin fell from its beak. The bird turned and swooped towards the ground, but instead of going after the food, it landed in the dustbin lid and dived under the water. After flapping and making a hullaboo, spreading drops of water across the patio, it stopped dead and looked up at Lili.
Her face broke into a smile. ‘Okay, my little friend,’ she whispered. ‘Message received loud and clear. You think I should, indeed, take the plunge.’
After a bath, clean of the house and hour of ironing, Lili drove over to Tavistock and parked up outside Dylan’s house. He’d said to drop around over lunch. He’d make them sandwiches. The staff would be out on jobs so it would be quiet. He came out of the warehouse and strode over, wearing worn jeans and a fleecy top. He leant forwards and gave her a hug then bobbed down and scooped her into his arms.
‘I’m not risking you falling over on my property. The last thing I need is you claiming damages.’
Lili wriggled. ‘Dylan! Let me down this instant!’ She couldn’t help laughing, but not as loudly as he did. Gently, he placed her back on the ground, opened the front door and they went inside. She took off her bomber jacket, gave him a pointed look and in an exaggerated manner, hung it on the end of the banister.
Dylan placed his fleece over her jacket. As he’d taken it off, his shirt rose too, to reveal toned, sun-kissed skin, smattered with black hairs that made her long to run her palm across his chest. If Em was here, the two of them would have giggled like schoolgirls. That was the thing if you stayed close to your best friend from childhood – immature aspects remained. They’d still both race to grab the last biscuit in a packet, and Em still had her one-eyed teddy on her bed, Lili her metre-long plushie snake, Sid. Like the women, those two toys had been the best of friends years ago. The two women would still jump up to dance to ‘Single Ladies’ by Beyoncé, popping the moves they’d learnt at the age of fourteen. They called it their very own anthem. Self-reliant Lili Taylor and Em Evans didn’t need any man putting a ring on anything.
New intimate habits evolved over time, more suited to a grown-up world. They’d think nothing of borrowing each other’s clothes and always bought enough tampons for two. They’d ring each other when out on a date, after an hour, to see if the other needed an escape. Em knew precisely how Lili preferred her tea – not too strong, milk in first – whereas Em’s was the colour of tar with two sugars.
More importantly, they knew how to cheer each other up. Lili liked a hot water bottle and a bar of chocolate. Em preferred a hug and a comedy movie. That had been the hardest thing in the months running up to her death – apart from a brief moment when they’d booked the trip to Vegas – day in, day out, Lili hadn’t succeeded in lifting Em’s mood.
‘You stick the kettle on,’ Dylan said as they entered the kitchen, ‘and I’ll make us my famous prosciutto and provolone toasties.’
‘Sounds impressive.’
‘Not really, good Italian home-cooking, that’s all. Ham and cheese to you.’
‘What other meals did your mum teach you?’
He opened a cabinet and brought down a wooden recipe box. He passed it to her. Lili flicked through the handwritten cards, some of them stained and curled at the corners. Bean and tortellini soup, pork Milanese, parmesan chicken, pesto lasagna, aubergine Gnocchi…
