‘Fine. But I warn you, I work in HR and it’s unendingly dull. And I don’t believe in star signs.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘What, you don’t think that a twelfth of the population of the world is going to experience the same thing this month? That’s shocking.’
‘I know right. How could I?’
His eyes sparkled as he looked at me, and I had to look away. I hoped he didn’t notice my face flaming.
‘Okay, come on. What else? Where would you most like to go in the world?’
‘That’s easy. Australia.’
He nodded. ‘Good choice.’
‘What about you?’
He screwed his face up. ‘I don’t know. New York maybe.’
‘You’ve never been to New York?’
He shook his head. ‘Nope. I didn’t get on a plane until I was twenty-four and even that was only to go on a trip to Germany with the kids from school.’
‘Sounds horrendous.’
‘Ah they’re okay really. Most of them anyway.’ He blew air out through his lips, his cheeks puffing out. ‘Teenagers get a bad rap most of the time.’
‘Yeah, you’re probably right. I mean, we were all teenagers once right?’
‘Exactly.’
‘What about your family?’ I said.
‘Ah, now you’re asking.’ He rubbed his hand over his face. ‘Andy’s the best. He’s four minutes older than me but it feels like a lifetime. He’s always been there for me, would put his life on the line for me, if need be. I’d do the same for him, of course.’ He stopped, gathering himself. ‘Mum’s okay.’ I waited, while he took a deep breath. ‘But I can’t forgive her for always sticking up for my father over me or Andy.’
‘Is he still around, your father?’
He gave a tense nod. ‘Yeah. Which is why I don’t really see either of them any more.’ He looked at me. ‘He’s just not a very nice man.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, not wanting to push for more details, and he shook his head and looked away again. We sat in silence for a moment. I was surprised to find that I wanted to keep talking to him, to dig deeper into what made this man tick. What did he like to eat, what was his favourite film, what music did he listen to, what football team did he support? But before I could ask any of those things, he asked me something.
‘What’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you, Emma Vickers?’ My heart stopped and I turned to look at him. I wanted to say ‘meeting you’ but I knew that would sound ridiculous. Besides, what about Greg?
So instead I looked away and shrugged. ‘I’m not sure,’ I said.
I could feel him still watching me, but I kept my gaze trained on the ground.
‘What about the worst thing then?’ His voice was soft and it made something in me open up, suddenly want to tell him things. Before I could think about it too much, I found myself telling him about Greg, and how it had felt when he’d died. How I’d been empty and numb for months, but that the worst part of it was that I would spend nights lying in bed imagining him lyingat the bottom of the tree, in pain, unable to move. How I pictured him calling for me, and knowing he wasn’t going to make it out of there alive. ‘I tortured myself about that for months,’ I said.
‘How did you stop?’
‘I’m not sure I ever did. Although Rachel helped. And counselling.’
‘Ah, counselling. Andy thinks I should have that.’
I looked at him sharply. ‘You haven’t had any?’
He shook his head. ‘I didn’t really see the point. I mean, Dawn got ill, she had treatment but it didn’t work, and then she died. I don’t really blame myself or anything, because there was nothing either of us could have done to change it. I just feel sad, and there’s nothing anyone else can do about that either.’
‘But…’ I started, but didn’t know how to carry on.
