Page 52 of The Art of Loving You

We fell into silence. Both thinking of what we’d lost. Who we’d lost.

‘Does it … does it get any easier?’ I asked, my eyes fixed on the distance.

‘It gets …’ There’s the longest pause. ‘I don’t want to say normal because my life without Beth in it … it doesn’t feel normal at all, but … I guess you get used to it. Get on with it. It’s early days for you though.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘From the date on the headstone.’

‘Ah. The headstone.’

‘Not your choice?’

‘No it wasn’t my choice but I don’t get to decide anything. It wasn’t as though we were married.’ My sour words left a coating on my mouth and I took another swig of Lucozade to wash it down.

‘Tell me about him. Jack.’

‘You don’t want to—’

‘I do. Really.’

‘Jack was twenty-nine and I loved him more than I ever thought possible.’ I still didn’t look at him. My eyes firmly on the thin distant line where the sky merged with the fields. I didn’t want to see the sympathy that I knew would be on his face. ‘He was mugged. Stabbed.’

‘I … I’m so sorry. He was so young. Was it … quick?’ Noah’s voice was thick with sympathy.

‘Yes and no. He was fine afterwards, well, not fine but discharged from hospital. He was home when … when his wound became infected and …’ I sniffed hard. ‘Whatever age Jack was taken it would have been too soon. There’s so much I wish I’d have told him.’

‘So tell him. Talking about those … we’ve lost … talkingtothem … it keeps their memory alive.’

‘Is that why you come here?’

For a moment there’s no answer, and then, ‘I pretend we’re having a conversation sometimes, me and Beth. I tell her things and I imagine what she might say. If I’ve a decision to make I ask myself “what would Beth do?” She was a better person than me in every single way.’

‘I’m sure—’

‘I want … If she were here. Now. I’d want her to be proud of me and I don’t think she would be.’

‘Why not?’ I turned to face him. There was something familiar about him. His bleached blond hair. His hazel eyes. And then I remembered seeing his kindness-filled gaze before, ‘You’re the builder who came to the house to quote?’

He didn’t answer straight away. Had I misplaced him?

‘It was the day of the funeral,’ he said quietly. I had got the right person then.

‘I’m sorry I was so rude to you.’

‘You weren’t really.’ His cheeks were already red but now a creep of pink crept up his neck.

‘I shut the door in your face.’

‘It’s only natural,’ Noah said. ‘Under the circumstances.’

‘I just don’t feel like myself any more. I don’t know who I am without Jack, or who I want to be.’

‘I get that.’

‘Is that why you think Beth wouldn’t be proud? Because you don’t know who you are?’

Noah’s lip trembled. ‘I know who I want to be, Libby,’ he said.

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