She tried to polish up her work, so she could submit it to Marlon, but knew she was doing Georgia and her fans a disservice. Just as Essie was stuck in the past, so was her heroine. Both of them deserved a better ending.
The next day, a rap at the door made Liv sit bolt upright in bed. She wore the knitted blanket around her shoulders like a superhero’s cape and her eyes were crusted with sleep. She cleared them with her fingertips before opening the door.
Jake stood there holding two stuffed carrier bags. ‘Hi,’ he said casually, though she heard his one word was loaded with hope. He raised the bags. ‘I’ve brought a peace offering.’
‘It doesn’t look like chocolates and flowers.’
‘I like to think it’s better than that.’
Liv glanced behind her, at her crumpled bed and an apple core on the writing desk. ‘Come in.’
Jake raised a bemused eyebrow at the room. ‘This is where you’re, um, working? Is it really Essie’s place?’ A banging noise sounded above and they both looked up at the ceiling.
‘It’s her old student accommodation, a secret hideaway. I think she bought it when she got her book deal. I bet it’s tidier than Johnny’s new place.’
Jake laughed. ‘I can imagine.’ He proffered the bags to her. ‘I know you never got the chance to be a student, so I brought you some essentials. I lived on this stuff for years.’
Liv looked inside one of the bags and couldn’t help laughing as she took out a box of Rice Krispies, and a box of minestrone Cup-a-Soups.
‘There’s also a multipack of cheap crisps and some chocolate digestives.’ He smiled. ‘A week’s worth of meals. I used to keep a box of cereal at the side of my bed. I had a handful in the morning for breakfast, and the same for supper.’
‘So nutritious. I definitely missed out,’ she said. ‘I’d offer you tea and toast, but I don’t have milk or bread.’
‘Hmm, looks like I forgot those.’ Jake looked around for a chair.
‘Use the bed. It doubles up as a sofa,’ she said.
They sat down together and scooped puffed rice from the cereal box with their hands.
A couple of Rice Krispies stuck to Jake’s cheek like warts and she reached over to flick them off. They made general chitchat about Johnny and Mack, and after a short while Jake stood up. ‘I’ll leave you to get back to work,’ he said. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m supposed to be writing,’ she said glumly.
When he headed to the door her eyes followed him. Wasn’t he going to ask her more questions before leaving? Or enquire when she was coming home? But he gave her a warm smile and was gone.
The next morning, he brought fresh bread, and they ate slices of buttery toast, perched on the edge of the bed together. He left after fifteen minutes and Liv found herself wishing he’d stayed a bit longer.
The next day, she read her version of the manuscript all day before Jake knocked on the door at 8 p.m. They drank soup from cups and dropped in pieces of torn bread. When ten o’clock came around, he stood up to leave and they kissed in the doorway, as if Liv was nineteen again.
After a few more days following a similar pattern, Jake asked casually, ‘How is your writing going?’ There was no tension in his voice, or pressure for her to tell him. Liv felt he really wanted to know.
‘I gave Georgia Rory a hero, but he’s not the right man to end her story with.’
‘Has he done anything wrong?’ Jake said.
‘They don’t suit each other’s needs. She’s deciding what to do.’
‘Oh.’ He reached over and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. ‘Do you know who the right man should be?’
Liv shook her head. ‘Not yet. I’m really struggling.’
‘I’ve brought you something. I thought it might help.’ Jake took the notebook he’d made,when they’d first met, out of his pocket. It had lain unused in her bedside drawer for over twenty years. ‘You said you’d use it for something special one day.’
Liv’s spirits lifted a little. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
For the next couple of days, she continued to battle with the ending for the book. She tried to write different scenarios for Georgia and, again, they didn’t feel right.
Jake continued to appear with food and drink for her. He left to go back to their home and didn’t put pressure on her to join him. He didn’t ask her anything about Essie, and Liv continued to keep the author’s death to herself.
