‘It was someone who came in by accident. They’ve gone now,’ he stated coldly.
But Eleanor couldn’t seem to rest. She peered behind her, willing the mourning faces to part so she could get a clear view of the door, but there it stood, firmly closed and without a Fin in sight.
‘I’m sorry,’ Oliver whispered in her ear. ‘But I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.’
Eleanor pulled her hand away from his and folded herarms across her chest protectively. She watched the rest of the ceremony numbly. The words and songs barely registered as they washed over her. She allowed herself to be marched out of the church to the grave. She watched as they buried her sweet, beloved dad until he was no more than a mound of soil. She sat in the car and let her sister weep into her shoulder, hardly feeling the racking sobs of her tiny body against her own. Oliver’s firm grip remained on her hand the entire time.
‘Eleanor, you need to call the caterers and tell them there’s traffic. We’re going to be late.’ Oliver’s voice cut across her clouded consciousness.
‘Huh?’ She turned to look at him.
‘The caterers,’ he repeated. ‘You need to call them; I left my phone at home. I’d ask your mother but I don’t think … I think it’s easier if you do it.’
‘Oh.’ She reached into her handbag and pulled out her phone. Her heart stopped.
From: Finley Taylor.
I’m sorry, Elles. All flights to London are cancelled, I’m not going to be able to make it. I tried, I really did. Please forgive me. x
Only then did she finally begin to cry.
Now
Eleanor
The week leading up to her dad’s anniversary passed by, as it always did, at an alarming rate. One minute it was Monday evening and Eleanor was researching traditional 1950s pageant gowns for Heidi, the next it was Friday night and she was being handed a large glass of wine by Sal in the pub.
‘How are you doing?’ her friend asked. ‘This weekend is a bit of a tough one, isn’t it?’
‘You can say that again.’ She took a sip of wine and swallowed her sadness down along with it. ‘I’m doing all right though. And besides, my mum’s invited Fin to the lunch so at least that will be something to distract her.’
‘Distractions are good …’ Sal murmured, a note of scepticism creeping into her voice.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘I’m not looking at you like anything.’
‘Yes, you are.’
Sal shrugged innocently. ‘You just seem to be spending a lot of time with someone you were adamant on avoiding a few weeks ago.’
‘Not really,’ Eleanor replied defensively. ‘My mum invited him to this, not me.’
‘And then there’s that weird old-people thing you’re doing.’
‘Thephotoshootis a one-off favour.’
‘All right, fine. If you say so.’ Sal held her hands up. ‘Also, I still don’t understand why anyone wouldchooseto hang out with old people. Are you sure there’s not something else in it for you?’ She winked.
‘I’m sure.’ Eleanor let out a little laugh. ‘You know you will be an old person too one day?’
Sal looked at her aghast. ‘Not if I can help it!’
‘Hmm,’ Eleanor mused. ‘Whatever you say.’
‘Also, speaking of getting old, I still can’t believe I have my mum’s seventieth coming up. I’m so pissed it’s on the same day as Laura’s wedding. I really wanted to go.’
Sal’s words hit Eleanor like a punch in the stomach.
