Page 79 of The Art of Loving You

‘I’ll teach you how it’s done.’ Sid rose unsteadily to his feet.

‘Have you bowled before?’

‘No. But how hard can it be?’

‘Do you want the ramp, Sid?’ Noah asked.

‘I ain’t a baby.’ Sid tested the weight of the balls, opting for the lightest orange one, and then shuffled to the line at the end of the lane. He swung his arm back and forth, somehow losing his grip on the ball which flew down the adjourning lane much to the bemusement of the couple using it. Somehow, it gave Sid a strike. I grabbed my camera and took a photo of his triumphant fist pump in the air.

‘Did I win?’ he asked when he turned around.

We were laughing too much to reply.

Later, I sat alone in the garden on Sid’s bench, replaying the day in my mind. Smiling as I remembered Sid’s unorthodox method of bowling. Jack would have loved it. Once more, as I thought about him I had a sense of him beside me but of course he wasn’t.

If he had been there he’d have spoken. Not of bowling but he’d have told me that tomorrow I’d say something that was inconceivable. Unforgivable. Something I would always regret. He’d have asked me to think before I spoke. But even if there was such a thing as spirits,even though I thought I’d heard him before, he didn’t speak.

He didn’t warn me.

And so I said it. Oh God, I saidthatthing I could never take back.

Today, still, I hate myself for it.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

My stomach was still swollen with curry and birthday cake the next morning. The lingering taste of cumin and chocolate on my tongue. I worked in the garden alone. I’d told Noah and Liam not to rush in today and it was almost eleven by the time they arrived.

‘Morning.’

They sat at the table while I filled the kettle. My head was pounding and I’d only had one glass of wine with the meal and a beer at the bowling alley. Thank goodness it was Friday.

‘Phase one is complete then,’ Noah said.

‘It is.’ Steam swirled around my face as I tipped water into mugs.

‘What’s next?’ Noah looked at me expectantly as I distributed the drinks.

‘I don’t know.’ I was bone-weary. I blew against my coffee wishing I’d made a cold drink; everything was too hot, humid, it made my thoughts impossible to decipher.

‘We’ve all earned some time off. Shall we take a break next week? It’ll give me some time to plan the next stage.’

‘I could help you make a plan?’ Dejected, Liam clattered his half-eaten digestive back onto his plate.

‘Go and have some fun, Liam. There’s no college for a few weeks.’

‘But—’

‘I’ll still pay you. You are entitled to holiday pay,’ I added quickly before he could tell me he didn’t want charity.

‘It’s not the money, it’s …’ He stared miserably at the table, jabbing biscuit crumbs with his finger.

‘It’s just a few days,’ I said gently. ‘This isn’t the end. Take some time for yourself, do some drawing or painting.’

‘Whatever.’ He shrugged.

My eyes met Noah’s in a question and as I rose from the table and headed upstairs he followed me.

‘Will Liam be okay next week?’ I asked when we were alone.

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