Page 5 of One Step Behind
‘Yeah, thanks.’I won’t, I add silently. I shouldn’t have stayed over the last time. Nick went ballistic and we didn’t speak for two days. ‘Are you still seeing someone?’ I ask, thinking of the mention Matthew made of a woman he was dating a while ago.
‘Sort of. It’s complicated. Look, there’s—’
‘I really should go,’ I cut him off. ‘Sorry, but I’m running late.’
Matthew moves then, one foot then another, drawing closer, positioning himself in my path. ‘You ignored my text the other day.’
‘Did I? I thought I replied.’ I know which text he’s talking about. Four words that dropped down from the top of my phone screen when I was sitting on the sofa.
We need to talk!
Nick was sitting beside me watching the football, one arm looped around my shoulder. There was no way I could reply then.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve been crazy busy. Everyone wants to get in shape for their summer holidays. Sorry.’
Sorry, sorry, sorry. It feels like every other thing I say to Matthew is an apology. A hang-up from childhood I’ve never been able to shake. The tiptoeing around mood swings, placating arguments, softening words. I wish I could stop. I wish things could be different to the way they are.
‘Matthew needs our help, Sophie. He needs all of our love.’
‘I’ll text you later, OK?’ I say, wanting so badly to move and yet staying anyway.
‘Have you tried to see Mum lately?’ Matthew asks, the change of direction throwing me for a moment.
‘What’s the point? She doesn’t want to see us.’ Sadness stabs – the twist of a knife right in the space between my ribs. Twelve years on and it still feels like a gaping wound that won’t heal. ‘Why? Have you?’
‘Sort of. I walked past their house the other week. I saw Trevor and Mum out in their garden. They seem happy. She’s had her hair cut short.’
I close my eyes for a second, pulling my cap a little lower too. I hate hearing Trevor’s name. I don’t care what he says, I will always think that she chose him over us.
‘But you didn’t try to see her?’ I ask.
He shakes his head.
A question pushes forward and I feel it in my throat and then on the tip of my tongue. It’s the same question I wanted to ask twelve years ago when I was fifteen and Matthew was twelve. I didn’t ask it then either.Why did you do it?
‘There’s something we need to talk about.’ Matthew’s voice turns from casual to serious.
I’m dithering over what to say or do. I don’t want to talk now, but I don’t know how to walk away fromhim either. From across the road a front door bangs. My eyes follow the noise and I watch a man in a suit hurrying to his car. Something changes, like a spell has been broken and finally I can move again. ‘It’ll have to wait. I’ve got to dash.’
I run then, my legs stretching out and my lungs pulling in great big gulps of hot air. Only when my pace catches up with the rapid firing of my heart and I’m at the end of the road do I stop and look back. Matthew is still standing where I left him, staring after me. His phone is out and I’m sure he’s taking more of his stupid photos.
We’ll have to talk at some point. Anxiety worms through my body as I start to run again, reaching my client’s house five minutes late. Her car pulls on to the driveway just as I’m ringing the doorbell.
‘Sorry,’ she calls out, leaping from the car. ‘I got stuck talking to the mums after drop-off. Have you been waiting long?’
‘No, you’re fine.’ I breathe a sigh of relief.
‘Your hair looks amazing. That grey-blonde is really in right now.’
‘Thanks.’ I smile and make myself focus on my day and my client, and the life I’m trying so flipping hard to live, instead of on Matthew, and the memories and hurt that are never far from my thoughts.
‘You’re a big sister now, Sophie. It’s your job to look after Matthew. You have to promise you’ll always be there for him.’
‘I promise. I pinky promise.’
‘Thank you. You’re the best daughter a mummy could ask for, and I know you’ll be the best sister too.’
Chapter 4
