Eleanor felt her phone buzz in her pocket.
‘Eleanor? Do you hear me?’ he demanded childishly. ‘I want my half of the flat. I want what’s owed to me.’
She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d started stamping his foot and wailing. How had she ever found him attractive? How had she ever thought ofmarryinghim?
‘Fine.’ She reached into her coat and pulled out her phone. She needed as many excuses to get Oliver to leave as possible. Maybe she could threaten to call the police? Maybe … she could threaten to call Ben!
‘Fine what?’ he stammered.
‘Fine, we can sell the flat. I don’t care. I just want you to go—’ Eleanor looked down at her screen and felt her heart collapse on itself. ‘Oh God.’ Her hand flew to her mouth.
No.
Not tonight.
‘I know what you’re doing, Eleanor, and it won’t work,’Oliver spat viciously. ‘Pretending there’s an emergency so I have to leave, and you get to go inside and enjoy the home that I practically paid for.’ The venom was putrid on his breath and his face twisted in bitterness.
‘Fin’s mum just died.’ She closed her eyes and let the words sink in.
‘Excuse me?’
She clenched her fists tightly. ‘You heard me. Don’t make me say it again.’
‘Fin? Since when was he back on the scene?’ He laughed. ‘Don’t pretend you care about that waste of space again.’
Eleanor remained completely still, the tears falling hot and fast down her cheeks. ‘I need you to leave, Oliver.’ She kept her voice calm and composed. ‘I need you to leave right now or I will call the police.’
He gave a short, sharp snort of disgust. ‘You say you’ve changed, Eleanor, but look at you. The minute that good-for-nothing lowlife calls, you drop everything and go running. It’s pathetic.’
‘No,’ she roared, the anger practically exploding out of her. ‘Youare the pathetic one, Oliver,’ she hissed, pushing him away from her hard. ‘Nowgo.’
Oliver stared at her dumbfounded before turning on his heel and leaving with an indignant grunt. Eleanor didn’t even bother to check where he’d gone; the only thing she needed to do right now was to call Fin. To call her friend. To be there for her friend.
Fin
The week following his mother’s death passed in a blur of lawyers, funeral directors and countless phone calls. The only way he managed to know up from down and what to do next was because of Angela’s strict instructions. By the morning of the funeral, Fin was bone tired but relieved. Everything was sorted and ready for the final goodbye.
‘The car is going to be here in about ten minutes to take us to Mum’s.’ Eleanor was sitting next to him on the sofa. She’d been by his side nearly as much as Angela. How easy it was to fall back into old habits, he thought. How hard it would be to leave her, when all of this was over.
‘Sure.’ Fin began to wring his hands nervously. ‘Do we need to go over the list one last time?’ he asked, clutching at any form of distraction.
‘No, we’re good.’ She adjusted herself to face him. ‘It’s going to be fine, I promise.’
He lifted his eyes to hers.
‘I’m scared,’ he whispered, the words falling out of his mouth quite unconsciously.
She placed her hand against his cheek and rested her forehead against his. ‘I know. Trust me, I know, but you will get through this.’ Her words soothed him, so soft and hopeful that with each one he found his breathing ease and his mind quieten. ‘And I’ll be here, every step of the way, OK?’
He didn’t speak. He didn’t dare do anything to break the moment. The feeling of her skin on his, her breath on his face and her voice in his ears. So close. So close he could feel the memory of her lips kissing him.
‘Do you hear me, Fin? I’m here,’ she repeated.
There wasn’t time for words any more. He leant forward and pulled her mouth on to his. All the pain, all the grief, all of the emotion spilt out of him and into her. He needed her. He needed to feel her.
‘Fin!’ She pulled away sharply. ‘What are you doing?’
He opened his eyes. The shock on her face hit him deep in the stomach.
