Two flights and seventeen hours later, Fin was exhausted. He had barely slept on the plane, his anxiety keeping his body running on high alert. He’d had to wash and change in the Heathrow airport toilets, not even minding the curious looks he was getting from his fellow passengers. There was no time for showers or haircuts; in fact, the funeral was already in full flow by the time his taxi pulled up outside the church. But it didn’t matter. He was here. After everything, he’d made it.
‘Just here is fine, mate,’ he instructed the cab driver, who had barely stopped as Fin opened the door and jumped out. He threw his bag over his shoulder and sprinted up to the church entrance.
Take a breath.
He stood, dusted down the cheap suit he’d bought back in India, and slowly opened the heavy wooden door. It creaked loudly on its rusted hinges, and Fin winced as the noise cut through the heavy grieving silence within. He was about to peer through the crack when suddenly the door lurched away from him.
‘Get outside,’ a stranger’s voice hissed.
Fin did as he was told and stepped back a little. A youngman had sneaked out silently through the door and was standing in front of him, looking less than impressed.
‘I’m so sorry I’m late. You wouldn’t believe the nightmare I had getting here.’ Fin could feel the stranger’s disapproval raking over his entire body. ‘I’m Fin.’ He held out a hand but the man simply looked at it with growing disdain.
‘I know who you are,’ he jeered. ‘And I’m not willing to hear your lame excuses as to why you’re turning up halfway through a funeral.’
‘They aren’t excuses. My flight got cancelled and I had to go thr—’
‘Like I said. I don’t care.’ The man took a step closer to Fin. ‘You need to leave.’
‘Excuse me?’ Fin couldn’t help but notice how well put together this stranger was. His crisp black suit fitted him beautifully; his dark brown hair was coiffed and gelled to perfection. Even the white flower in his buttonhole looked like it was holding its breath, standing to attention. ‘No offence, but who even are you? I’ve never seen you before. I’m sure if you go and get Elles, she’ll clear this whole thing up.’
‘I’mwithEleanor,’ he smirked, elongating her name ever so slightly. ‘I’m Oliver. Her boyfriend.’
Really, Elles? You picked someone like him?
Fin pushed the judgement to the back of his mind for now; he needed to focus on getting in that church and by his friend’s side.
‘Well then, you’ll know how much she would want to see me.’ Fin grimaced.
‘Hmmm, I’m not so sure about that.’ Oliver looked him up and down with repulsion. ‘You see, I’m not quite sure why anyone would want their delinquent, no-gooddrunkof a schoolfriend showing up at their dad’s funeral monthsafter disappearing off to the other side of the world and’ – he laughed cruelly – ‘sleeping in God knows what conditions. You’re a state. You’re probably drunk and I don’t want you near Eleanor.’
Fin’s fist clenched reflexively; it was aching to swing out and punch the tiny smug face in front of him, but he held off. ‘I’m. Not. Drunk,’ he stated.
‘Sure. Like all the other times you weren’t drunk?’ He raised an eyebrow mockingly. ‘Eleanor’s told me everything about you, Fin. You may have pulled the wool over her eyes for years, but it won’t work with me. You’re no good for her, and there is no way I’m letting you come back and ruin her life again. She’s better off without you. They all are.’
Fin went to speak but the words vanished from his mouth the moment they formed on his tongue. He wanted to push past Oliver and run to Eleanor’s side, but he couldn’t. His feet were rooted to the spot and his entire body had turned to lead.
He’s right.
That’s why you left, remember?
‘No.’ Fin shook the doubt from his head and forced his body forward. But Oliver was there quicker than he imagined, grabbing his arms and throwing Fin to the floor.
‘Now, get the hell out of here or I swear I’ll call the police.’ He tutted patronizingly, turning away from Fin, who was still sprawled out on the earth. ‘This is a day of mourning … have some fucking respect, for once in your life.’
Now
Eleanor
‘But … then … why?’ She sunk down on to the sofa, the weight of Fin’s revelation dragging her down by her ankles. ‘Why didn’t you call? Why did nobody see you? What happened?’
This isn’t real.
He didn’t come back.
He told you himself he didn’t come back.
‘You texted me saying you had missed your flights.Youtold me yourself you weren’t coming.’ She balled her fists and ground them deeply into her forehead.
