‘Stop that at once,’ her mother snapped. ‘I know last year was hard for you, but being single is not a life-threatening disease. You’ll survive this, Eleanor. You’ve just got to let yourself move forward.’
Eleanor picked at the raw skin around her nail beds. The one good thing about being hungover was that she was too dehydrated to cry. It didn’t stop her throat tightening and her heart hurting though.
Suddenly her body ran cold. ‘Look, Mum, I think I might need to go.’
‘Aha! That’s more like it. Decided to seize the day, havewe? Well, good for you, sweetheart. Up and at ’em, that’s what my mother always said!’
‘Sure, Mum.’ Eleanor could barely get the words out. Her stomach twisted angrily and sweat broke out all over her skin. ‘I really have to go …’
‘Fine, I’ll leave you to it. Happy New Year, my darling,’ her mother called, but before she could finish, Eleanor hung up and threw the phone across the room. There was no time for niceties.
After successfully expelling the remainder of last night’s stomach contents into the toilet, Eleanor managed to drag herself downstairs and on to the sofa. It was strange. Every memory and thought of Oliver felt unbearable and yet living in the flat they had shared for nearly ten years didn’t feel odd at all. It had surprised everyone that for the past few months he’d allowed her to stay there. Maybe evenheknew that breaking her heart and kicking her out of her home was a little too cruel. Although picking up his share of the mortgage had been an eye-watering stretch on her budget, it had been worth it. This flat was her slice of tranquillity, nestled in amongst the madness of East London. Every detail, from the cushions to the wallpaper to the lighting to the cutlery, was all a piece of Eleanor. There was hardly any trace of Oliver to be found.
Maybe that’s why he found it so easy to drop everything and leave.
The acidic thought shot through her mind, causing her already queasy stomach to lurch in protest. She stretched her crumpled legs out and closed her eyes. Could she stay hidden away for ever? Lying inanimately. Barely existing. It would surely be easier than facing real life.
Once again, her faithful phone buzzed her out of her stupor.
Incoming Call: Freya Sis.
Eleanor quickly answered. ‘Hey, Frey.’
‘You’re alive then?’ Her little sister’s sarcasm was always cutting.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t message. I was in work and then at Sal’s and then there was way too much wine and … you know how it is.’
‘You’re now lying on the sofa feeling sorry for yourself, barely able to move from the hangover?’
Eleanor laughed. ‘Pretty much.’
‘It’s fine. I just worry about you.’ She heard her sister feign despair. ‘Christ, I’m becoming worse than Mum, aren’t I?’
‘No one is as bad as Mum. I’ve just been on the phone to her actually.’
‘Ah.’ Freya chuckled. ‘Let me guess, more motivating and inspiring speeches about the wealth of opportunity that this life can offer if you’d only open your eyes to it?’
Eleanor snorted. Freya’s impression of their mother was close to perfect. ‘I stopped her before she could rile herself up too much. I’ve never been more grateful to vomit in my life.’
‘How’s that for perfect timing? Anyway, I just called to say Happy New Year!’ The brightness and sparkle had returned to Freya’s voice. Eleanor hated it when Freya was so serious, mainly because she knew that nowadays the only thing she was being serious about was Eleanor’s fluctuating emotional state. No little sister should have to pick their big sister off the floor and put them back together. Guilt formed a tight knot in her stomach.
‘Happy New Year, Frey. Thank you for everything … honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without you.I promise this year will be better. It’s about time I got back to looking after you!’
‘Oh, please,’ Freya scoffed. ‘You haven’t looked after me since I was fourteen, and even then you were a hopeless babysitter.’
‘Hey, I tried to be sensible. But it was like looking after two children, with Fin around.’ A wave of nostalgia caught her by surprise.
‘He really was the worst. Do you remember that time when he used all of his pocket money to order every item on the Domino’s takeaway menu? The house stank of grease and cheese for weeks. Mum was livid.’
Eleanor’s heart sank. Hangovers weren’t the best time to be walking down memory lane.
‘Anyway. How was your night?’ she quickly deflected.
‘All right. Sam took me to a pretty standard house party, but amazingly I’m not feeling too worse for wear today. In fact, I’m taking a leaf out of my big sister’s book and am about to go for a run.’
‘You’re a better woman than I am. Do a couple of miles for me, please?’
‘I’ll try my best, although at this rate I reckon just getting to the end of the road will be a miracle.’ Freya paused. ‘Promise me you’ll try not to spend all day moping, OK?’ There was that motherly tone again. It seemed no one could have a conversation with Eleanor these days without a background note of anxiety. ‘Why don’t you make use of that beautiful journal thing I got you for Christmas? Everyone at work is raving about them. Good for the mind apparently.’
