Page 5 of The Love of Our Lives
Graham appears now with another glass of bubbles Jess must have snuck him, and I muster a smile for him. For all his digs, he’s become like a brother to me. I’ve known him for most of mylife and he loves Jess like nothing else, which makes him a hero in my books.
‘So,’ he says, ‘survive the day OK?’
‘It was a hummus-covered dream, Graham,’ I say, placing my phone on the bench. ‘Though I do feel a little bad for the boys; this can’t be too exciting for them.’
‘The boys are happy to be wherever you are, just like their mother,’ Graham says. ‘So, they had a great time.’
‘Well, maybe you guys could do something more adventurous before you head off. Maybe you could go to the cottage or something? Mum and Dad didn’t rent it out this month.’
‘And you could come too?’
I pause.
‘You know I’ll only slow you guys down.’ I try to sound light about it.
But when I look up, he’s looking right back at me, an almost annoyed expression on his face. ‘You need to stop worrying about what other people need, Maggie, and just go do. For everyone’s sake.’
I don’t respond immediately, because I’m slightly surprised by the tone, and I’m not even sure what he means – for everyone’s sake? He can definitely get a bit loose-lipped with a drink, but although he was around when it happened, he just doesn’t understand what it’s like to actually be the one whogot it wrong.
To cause that level of devastation for everyone.
And anyway – I haven’t been able to go back to the cottage since it happened.
‘The boys will be shattered later at least,’ I say, in an attempt to move the conversation along.
‘I should bloody well hope so,’ he laughs. ‘They’ve been running around for hours.’
‘Well, you and Jess can sneak back home for some wine later?’ I say. ‘The boys could have a sleepover at Mum and Dad’s.’
I feel a little bad about still being there too; taking over their dining room like I have. But I couldn’t keep going up and down the stairs in the condition I was in before the transplant, and it’s probably sensible to keep avoiding it now, I guess. Sometimes I like to imagine what my own place would be like; what my ownlifemight look like – perhaps I’d live in a cabin on a far-off mountainside and teach yoga for a living, or take off around the world in a campervan and start a travel blog, or live in a penthouse in the city and have an exciting job and international travel – I’d go out for dinner every night and work my way through all the cuisines in the alphabet, I’d date anyone I pleased and do anything I want, knowing that no two days would ever be the same.
But that sort of life isn’t something that I can have. What if something went wrong and I got sick? I couldn’t do that to everyone again.
‘That sounds good actually,’ Graham says with a sigh. ‘Maybe it’s no bad thing if we don’t end up moving.’
I stop; look at him.
He must read my expression, because all the blood seems to drain from his face.
‘Oh god . . .’ he says, glancing around. ‘I thought Jess had spoken to you earlier.’
‘Graham, what are you talking about?’ I say, utterly confused. ‘Why wouldn’t you be going?’
And why wouldn’t Jess have spoken to me about it?
He opens his mouth again to speak, when I suddenly realise I can’t see Jess anymore.
And I have a strange feeling.
‘Hang on,’ I say, getting up and walking back across the lawn. Weaving between children running and adults smiling, I scan our blanket set-up. Mum and Dad are off somewhere, but Jess is there. She’s staring at something white in her hand.
The letter.
‘What the hell is this, Maggie?’ she says, looking up as I approach.
‘What are you doing?’ I say, heart pounding. ‘Why are you going through my stuff?’
‘I wasn’t going through your stuff, Maggie. It was laying out on the picnic blanket for anyone to see.’
