Page 107 of From Now On

‘No. I know that Dad’s… that he isn’t here but it gave me a purpose, coming here. Something to do. Somewhere to be. At home… I think Maeve hates me and there’s nothing—’

‘Don’t say that,’ Charlie says fiercely. ‘There’s us. We need you. Me and Duke.’

‘You don’t need me, Charlie. You’ve got purpose. You’re writing your book and Duke… he’s probably glad I ran away. Glad to see the back of me. I… I haven’t been very kind to him lately.’ She hasn’t supported him. She won’t blame him if he hates her. Everything is such a mess. Instinctively her fingers slip under the sleeve of her shirt needing that release, her nails poised to draw blood, but, before she can, Charlie holds something out to her.

An envelope.

‘I’d forgotten but Duke asked me to give you this.’

‘What is it?’ She takes it, trying to ignore the itch on her skin that is desperate to be scratched. She examines the childish scrawl of her name. Turns it over in her hands, trying to guess what is inside. Is it weighted with anger that she’s been a terrible sister? Is it light with joy because she’s left?

Charlie shrugs. ‘I don’t know but I’ll leave you to read it in peace. I’ll go for a wander. I won’t be far away.’

Nina both wants and doesn’t want to know what Duke has written. She recalls the last time he had written to her, a ‘sorry’ note from Father Christmas when she had woken up to find not the make-up set and hair straighteners she had wanted in her stocking,but sheet music and a home spa kit. She had been old enough to know there wasn’t a Santa but she had gone along with their annual ritual of laying out a mince pie and a glass of milk and a carrot for Rudolph, for Duke’s sake.

In the morning, after they had opened their presents, Duke delighted he’d gotThe Lord of the RingsLego he had asked for, she’d gone for a shower. Back in her bedroom, she’d been dressing when she had noticed a note on her bedside table that definitely hadn’t been there before.

I am sorry I didn’t bring you the make-up and hair straighteners you asked for but I think you are pretty enough without them. Lots of love from FC xxx

For a long time she had treasured that note, keeping it in her shoebox of special things, like the cinema ticket from the first time she was allowed to go alone, and notes Maeve had passed her in class. Last year the box had been overflowing and Nina had carelessly chucked loads of things away including birthday and Christmas cards from her parents that now she would give anything to have in her possession again. Had Duke’s note been one of them?

She swallows hard, emotion already rising in her throat as she carefully slides her finger under the seal, trying her best to preserve the envelope. Whatever the letter says she wants to keep it intact. It will be a reminder that she is loved, or a reminder that she isn’t.

Dear Nina,

I am sorry that you’ve run away and it is all my fault. You said on New Year’s Eve that if I ate the cookie dough then someone would die and I didn’t believe you but I will always listen to everything you say now,I promise. I know I am weird and annoying and too sensitive and all of the other things I am. I am going to try really hard not to be. If I could magic away all of the things you don’t like about me I would but you are right, I am rubbish at magic and everyone will probably laugh at me when I do the show but I wouldn’t mind being laughed at if it was by you.

Our house was always full of noise, do you remember that, Nina? Laughing and singing and then shouting when you argued with Mum and Dad (I know that was because of the hormones and not your fault.) Now it’s too quiet.

I miss the music. I miss a lot of things. Mum. Dad. You. Do you remember when we used to play ‘I Wan’na Be Like You’ and we’d waggle our bums like Baloo as we danced? It was always my favourite song. I loved Mum singing ‘All The Things You Are’ and telling me I was brave and funny and kind all the things I didn’t feel I was but, really, I just wanted to be like you. I still want to be like you, my big sister who really is brave and funny and kind.

Don’t leave me.

Please come home, Nina. You used to say we had too many people in our house and not enough space but now we have too much space and not enough people.

I miss you.

Love Duke xxx

P.S. Billie misses you too.

Nina reads the letter twice more before pressing it against her aching heart. How can Duke think the boat accident is his fault for eating the cookie dough?He’s stupid, stupid, stupid and she misses him so much. She begins to cry. Eventually, her tears spent, she eases the letter back into the envelope and smooths it flat onto the bedside table. She splashes cold water onto her face before she heads out to find Charlie.

It’s not yet midday but it’s sweltering. The sunflower sun pumping out heat. She can smell the glistening tarmac on the road, fighting against the scent of hot doughnuts She’s only been walking for a few minutes but sweat is sticking her shirt to her back. Her fingers play with her cuff; she wants to roll up her sleeves but is scared to show off her scars but then she remembers Duke’s letter, how he thinks of her as brave, and she pushes up the fabric, exposing her skin. Exposing herself.

Her feet lead her towards the promenade. Near the steps that lead down towards the sand is a busker with a guitar. Her heart stutters with hope before falling back into static despair. The man is not her father although he holds himself the same way. She thinks he is probably the blurred image on YouTube. She wonders if she will ever stop seeing Dad. Her mum. Perhaps she will always see them in every couple that dances, hear them in the melodies of songs, sense them encouraging her in everything she will do.

Charlie isn’t far away. He’s sitting, unblinking eyes fixed on the horizon. Nina doesn’t know what he is seeing but she doesn’t think it’s the lapping waves or the children building sandcastles, parents sunbathing, congratulating themselves for holidaying in June, pulling their kids out of school before the end of term, saving a fortune. Knowing that come July every stretch of sand will be speared with windbreaks, spread with colourful towels.

Nina notices the box of fudge next to her brother. Her stomach clenches with anger the way it did that New Year’s Day when they’d rushed here to try and make sense of the senseless and Charlie had bought sweets on the way home.

Her parents are dead.

The thought that had spun as fast as the waltzers on the pier that day, eliciting the same sick feeling, returns now.

This is not a holiday and yet again he has been shopping for souvenirs.

She feels the bond they have formed these past twenty-four hours stretch tight. She doesn’t want it to snap. Charlie is all she and Duke have. She might not understand him, but she wants to at least try. He came here for her. That means something.

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