Page 22 of From Now On

‘Not really.’ He shakes his head. ‘No one who would want to take them on and no one they’d be happy with.’

‘But what about your happiness?’ She rests her head on his shoulder. ‘Our happiness?’

‘I can’t just leave them.’ Although he wants to. He wants to roll down the hill the way he had when he was a child. To feel that sense of freedom. Already, Nina and Duke are heavy chains around his ankles.

‘But… are you thinking of bringing them to New York?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What about the house—’

‘I said Idon’t know.’

Sasha sits up and leans forward, her elbows resting on her bent knees. She stares into the distance. Charlie doesn’t know whether she is watching the tatty straw stuffed scarecrow moving in the breeze or whether she is seeing their future slip away.

‘Sorry for snapping. It’s just… Christ. I don’t even know where to start.’ The thoughts in his head tumble from his lips. ‘What do I do? How can I afford New York and the mortgage on the house here, if there even is a mortgage and… can I pay it anyway? It’s not in my name. With no bodies there are no death certificates. How can I speak to the bank, the energy providers whennothingis in my name? And legally—’

‘Charlie, breathe.’ Sasha crouches in front of him, her hands on his shins. He realizes his words have fallen out in a garbled rush and he hasn’t inhaled for probably a minute at least.

‘It’s… a lot.’ He’s negotiated seven-figure deals but right now he feels helpless and hopeless.

‘You’re not on your own. I’m here. And there’s people who can help. Social Services.’

‘You mean, put them into care?’

‘I didn’t say that. I was thinking of advice. But… perhaps… It’s an option and…’ she doesn’t need to say he doesn’t have too many of those. ‘I’m sorry. I feel so useless.’ Her voice thins and he knows this is not easy for her either. Not what she’d signed up for. But then he feels the ring box again and realizes she hasn’t signed up for anything, not yet.

‘If you want to leave, I don’t expect you to—’

‘Shh.’ She presses her lips against his and they fall back on the grass. He rolls on top of her, and her legs wrap around his waist. He kisses her harder as his hand slips under her coat, her jumper, his cold fingers on her warm skin. She tugs at his belt, his zip. He doesn’t stop her. He is desperate to feel alive but, instead, he feels nothing.

At home, he rings Marty from the band. He isn’t sure if he’d have been told about the discovery of Hal and Fingers but he has.

‘I couldn’t help but think that somehow they might all be… I dunno… on an island or something,’ Marty says. ‘Stupid.’

‘I had hoped the same. That Mum and Bo were out there, together.’

‘It’ll have been… not a comfort. I dunno what the right word is, Charlie, but Bo being with Ronnie right up until the end… he loved the bones of her, you know.’

‘I know. And having played a last gig. He never lost hope that he might make it. I wonder if he regretted anything, at the end. They say your life flashes before you. Whether he wished he’d never met her and me and… Sorry, Marty.’ Charlie sniffs.

‘He loved having a family. He was never happier than when he was with your mum.He… he didn’t want her to know this but, shortly after he moved up to Derbyshire with you, he had an offer. Have you heard of the James Patrick Ensemble?’

‘Hasn’t everyone?’ They’re the most successful jazz group touring today.

‘They weren’t quite as big then but definitely on the up and up. They lost their guitarist and the trumpet player recommended Bo and… well… they invited him to join the band.’

‘He… he turned it down? But it was everything he wanted.’

‘Ronnie was everything he wanted. He couldn’t bear the thought of being on tour for months at a time. Away from her. From both of you. He didn’t feel it was right for you both to join him travelling. He wanted you to have the security of a fixed home, the stability of school. He never regretted it. I’ve never seen a couple more in love.’

Charlie hadn’t either. Mum and Bo just… fit. They glowed when they were together. Finishing each other’s sentences. Knowing instinctively what the other needed, sometimes silence and space, sometimes a conversation, a touch. There was something just so right about them. Is that how love should be? Is this how it is for him and Sasha? Charlie turns this over long after he has said goodbye to Marty and hung up the phone.

It’s dark by the time Charlie drops Sasha at the station that night, even though it isn’t yet seven o’clock. It’s the last train to London.

They have talked again during the journey and Charlie is a little clearer about what he is going to do.

‘I’ll miss you,’ she says as she hugs him goodbye. ‘I’ll text you and let you know when I’m back.’

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