‘No. I’m speaking to him later.’
‘Do you think he’ll come back?’ Freya’s eyes were full of hope. She loved him almost as much as Eleanor did.
‘I don’t know. It’s a long way and tickets will be expensive.’ Eleanor’s heart dropped further and further down into her stomach with every word. True, they hadn’t spoken that much over the past couple of months, but what with time zones and university work and her dad, organizing calls seemed somewhat impossible. It didn’t matter, though. She couldn’t imagine burying her father without her best friend by her side, but at the same time she knew how important this trip was for him. Every cell of her body was trying to prepare herself to be let down.
Expect nothing.
‘Either way, you’ll have me.’ Oliver shifted his seat closer,throwing his arm protectively across her shoulders. ‘I’ll be by your side the entire time.’ He puffed out his chest like a proud little bird.
Freya raised her eyebrows in disapproval. She knew, like Eleanor, that it wasn’t the same.
‘The longer you leave it, the harder and more expensive it will be for him to get back.’ Freya forced another spoonful of cornflakes into her mouth and eyed Eleanor knowingly.
‘I know, I’ll do it tonight,’ she snapped. ‘Anyway …’ She forced her voice to be as upbeat as possible, changing the subject quickly. ‘Is there anything else you need me to do today, Mum, apart from sort the flowers?’
‘No, I think that’s all for now, darling,’ her mother whispered, her salty tears making tiny ripples as they fell into her cold cup of coffee.
*
The days leading up to the funeral had passed her by in a blur. She thought on the actual day the reality might hit her, but she’d felt numb from the moment she woke up that morning, her fingers buttoning up her black dress without conscious thought or feeling. She’d let her mother brush her hair and cry tears into her tangled curls. She was a shell, going through the motions without really living a minute of it. From the second they’d stepped out of the front door, Oliver had held her hand, squeezing it so tightly she was certain he was trying to force the blood from her veins. Still, she felt nothing.
‘Where’s Fin?’ Freya whispered anxiously, her head moving wildly around, scanning the swelling congregation for even a hint of his face.
‘I don’t know,’ Eleanor mumbled. ‘I haven’t heard fromhim since yesterday.’ She didn’t dare look behind. His absence would be too painful to register.
‘We really need to make a start,’ Oliver stated bluntly, checking his watch. ‘Eleanor, maybe we should just accept he’s not coming and get on with things?’
‘Get on with things? How can you be so heartless? Fin is family,’ she spat.
‘I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean it like that.’ He gripped her hand even tighter. ‘It’s just, the longer we leave it, the more painful it might be for your mum.’
Eleanor turned her head. There at the end of the row stood her mother. A faded outline of the vibrant woman she knew, cloaked in layers of black chiffon and heartbreak. She knew she was being selfish. How could she prolong this any longer?
‘You’re right. Let’s start.’ She dropped his hand and hung her head.
She kept her eyes down for as much of the ceremony as she could. Friends and family all desperately tried to catch her attention, attempting to pass their apologies across to her through a look. She didn’t want it. She couldn’t stand their pity. All she wanted was her best friend next to her, telling her over and over that it was going to be OK. That she’d get through this. That someday it wouldn’t hurt as much. But all she had was the absence of him in her heart.
Suddenly the doors of the church opened. Eleanor’s head jerked up instinctively and through the dazzling sunlight she saw someone enter. Surely it wasn’t …? Her heart tripped over itself in anticipation. Had he come?
‘Who is it?’ she whispered to Oliver.
‘I don’t know.’ He hadn’t even bothered to look back.
Eleanor tried to blink the newcomer into focus. Hushedwhispers and the sounds of turning heads echoed throughout the vast church. Their intrigue sent ripples through the crowd. She craned her neck but still couldn’t see. Oliver yanked on her hand.
‘Your sister is about to speak. Concentrate, Eleanor,’ he hissed in her ear. ‘I’ll go and see what’s happening.’
She grabbed his hand, practically tearing it from him. ‘If it’s Fin, bring him here, will you?’
He jerked his head slightly in irritation and then smiled softly. ‘Of course I will. Now stay here, I’ll be back in a second.’ He planted a dry kiss on her cheek and disappeared to the back of the church.
Eleanor turned her attention back to the front, where her little sister was braced, ready to read, her expression fixed in utter concentration. Eleanor knew it was taking every bit of strength to stop the tears from taking over her. Pride swelled in her chest. How blessed she was to share blood with such brave women.
Oliver returned just as she finished. Eleanor whipped her head around, certain her eyes would find the familiar green of Fin’s, but her heart cracked in disappointment.
‘It was a mistake.’
‘What?’ She felt the panic seize her throat.
