Page 48 of If I Could Say Goodbye
She stares over at the sofa as if she’s talking to someone else. ‘I need to know why.’
‘Why what?’ I repeat again.
‘Why my life was more valuable than hers.’
‘None of that matters.’ I kneel down in front of her until she turns her face to me. ‘It doesn’t matter why you’re here, what matters is that you are here.’
‘It’s not enough.’
She looks off into the distance again, her face twitching and frowning while she thinks it over. It’s starting to scare me, this looking off into the distance thing.
‘It’s not enough?’ I say, bringing her focus back to me. ‘Me and your kids aren’t enough?’
She blinks a tear away. ‘It’s not that, it’s just . . . I feel like part of me died with Kerry, like I’ve got a hole inside of me . . .’ she clenches a fist to her chest, ‘and it’s filling up with all these questions. Why am I here and Kerry isn’t? And . . .’ Her face grimaces.
‘And?’
‘Why was I so lucky? I know I sound crazy, Ed, but the questions just won’t stop.’
‘So, let’s get you some answers.’
‘Thank you.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
Jennifer
I’m in the garden before the rest of the world is awake; the sun is pushing its way up from beneath the heaviness of night. Kerry is pegging out clothes on the washing line, shaking one of Ed’s pairs of boxers out before hanging them up. I try to rub the sleep deprivation away with the heel of my hand. I’m thinking about what Richard said, about fate. Was Kerry’s death unavoidable?
‘Tell me another reason why you should be happy,’ she instructs from the side of her mouth as she holds a peg between her lips.
‘My house?’
‘OK . . . so what do you love about it and please don’t say your tea-towel drawer . . . nobody should iron their tea towels.’
I clasp the coffee cup in my hands. ‘I know I’m lucky to live in a nice area, that I have everything I need.’
‘That’s right, you do, but what makes it special?’
‘The hat stand. Ed wanted it, I didn’t, but then . . . we both fixed it up. It’s the first and last thing I always notice when I come and go.’
‘Come on, Jen.’ She untangles a pair of socks and reaches for another peg. ‘You can do better than that.’
‘That I can imagine myself growing old in it. I can imagine me and Ed babysitting grandchildren.’
‘That’s better.Grandchildren and growing old . . . aren’t you lucky?!’
I nod. I am.
‘Jen?’
I blink.
The washing is gone and Ed is standing in the doorway, half-naked and rubbing his hair. I get up, wrap my arms around his waist and lift my chin so he can kiss me. He flinches at my cold hands, and takes them in his, blowing into them and holding them between his own.
‘Couldn’t sleep?’ he asks.
I shake my head.
