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“We shouldn’t have let it get this far,” Wren says.“Until yesterday, I genuinely thought he was just celebrating Oxford.”

There’s a moment of silence, then Wren goes on, his voice quiet.“If he doesn’t want to talk about it, we have to accept that.”

Alistair snorts.“And keep watching on as he fucks himself up?No way.”

“You can take the drugs and booze off him,” Wren mumbles,“but his mum died.And as long as he won’t face up to it, there’s nothing we can do, however shit that feels.”

An icy shiver runs down my spine.They know.The idea of having to look into their sympathetic faces in a moment turns my stomach.I don’t want that.I want this all to be like the old days.But if Ruby’s visit has shown me one thing, it’s that it’s time to face reality.

So I let my neck click, circle my aching shoulders, and walk into the sitting room.

Alistair is about to reply but presses his lips together as he spots me.I head straight for the drinks trolley and pick up a bottle of whisky.There’s no way I’ll get through what I’ve got to do next sober.I pour a shot and down it in one.I put the glass down and turn to the lads.Everyone but Cyril is here.Alistair is swirling the last of his drink around his glass and keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.Kesh is watching me, his dark eyes expectant, and so is Wren.Although they already know, it feels important to say the words out loud.

“My mum is dead.”

It’s the first time I’ve said it.

And it hurts more than I expected.Not even the booze can help with that.That’s exactly why I’ve avoided talking to them.Words just cause more pain.I turn my face away and stare at my shoes so that I won’t have to see their reactions.I have never felt as vulnerable as I do in this second.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps coming toward me.When I look up, Wren is standing right there.He puts an arm around me and gives me a squeeze.

Wearily, I let my head droop onto his shoulder.My arms are heavy as lead and I can’t hug him back.But Wren doesn’t let mego.A moment later, Kesh and Alistair join us, putting their hands on my shoulders.

There’s no need for words in this moment, especially as the lump in my throat won’t let me get any out.It takes a while until I’ve got myself back under control, to some extent at least.Eventually, Wren starts to steer me toward the sofa, and Alistair gets me a glass of water, which he holds out without speaking.

“That’s so shit,” Alistair mumbles, sitting down beside me.“And I’m so sorry, James.”

I can’t meet his eyes or say anything, so I just nod.

“What happened?”Kesh asks after a while.

I sip hesitantly from the glass.The cold water tastes amazingly good.“She…She had a stroke, while we were in Oxford.”

Silence.I don’t think any of the lads has even drawn breath.They might have known that Mum had died, but this is clearly new information to them.

“Dad didn’t tell us until we got home again.He didn’t want us to fuck up our interviews.”Remembering the conversation with my father makes my blood run cold.I study my bruised hand, clench my fist, and relax it again.

Wren puts a hand on my shoulder.“We guessed that something bad must have happened,” he murmurs after a while.“I’ve never seen you like that.But Lydia didn’t tell us anything, and you weren’t in any fit state…”

Keshav clears his throat.“This afternoon, Beaufort’s put out a press release.That’s how we heard.”

I gulp hard.“I just didn’t want to think about it.About…anything.”

“It’s OK, James,” Wren says quietly.

“And I was scared that if I said it out loud, it would make it come true.”

At last, I raise my eyes and look into my friends’ stunned faces.Keshav’s eyes look suspiciously damp, while all the color has drained from Alistair’s cheeks.It never even occurred to me that my mates have known my mum since we were kids and so they’d be upset about the news of her death too.Suddenly, I realize how selfish my reaction was.I didn’t just ignore reality and hurt Ruby, I pushed my friends and Lydia away too by how I acted.

“You’ll get through this.Both of you will get through this,” says Wren.I follow his gaze and see Cyril and Lydia standing in the doorway.Lydia’s cheeks and eyes are red.I must look pretty similar.

“Whatever it feels like at the moment, you’re not alone.You’ve got us.Both of you do.OK?”Wren insists, clapping me on the shoulder.The look in his brown eyes is steady and serious.

“OK,” I reply, even though I have no idea whether I can believe him on that.

4

Lydia