‘Cheryl! God, it’s really good to hear your voice.’
‘How was the funeral? We were thinking of you today.’
I’ve reached my room now and close the door softly, sitting on the edge of the bed facing the window.
‘You know what, in the end it was OK. It was hard and strange but not as bad as I thought it would be. And do you know what Cheryl? I think things with my brother are actually going to be OK.’
My heart races as I say it, only now letting myself voice my hopes aloud. Nothing will change the time we’ve spent apart and perhaps Jack and I will never have the kind of relationship that some siblings have. But finally, I can start to imagine us being a part of each other’s lives again. Perhaps he, Alice and Molly can come down and see us in London. Maybe visiting the island could become a regular summer thing. With a fluttering of trepidation an image enters my mind: the big table in the kitchen here piled high with the trimmings of a Christmas dinner and Jack, Alice, Molly, Ella and me sitting around it together.
‘Oh, that’s great news. Did you two talk then?’
‘We did. I mean, there’s still a lot left to say and of course it’s never going to be easy, but it’s a start. Cheryl, I’ve got so much to tell you …’
And I sit in the yellow room that has quickly come to feel like mine, facing down the hill to the beach and the sea that glimmers in the evening sun, and tell my friend about everything that’s happened since we last spoke. I describe Alice to her, thinking how well the two of them would get on. I catch her up on Ella’s trouble with her friends, and she offers to march round to their houses and give them an earful. And finally, I tell her about Mallachy.
‘I mean, I know it’s just a holiday fling,’ I add, feeling a surprising jolt of pain as I say it, ‘but it’s been nice. Lovely, actually.’
‘I’m so pleased, Lorna! It’s about time you had some fun with a nice bloke. So, it wasn’t a total mistake of mine to persuade you to make this trip then?’
I can hear the smile in her voice and picture the red lipstick she always wears and how it was her cheerfulness and energy that first drew me to her when she joined the school.
‘I wanted to thank you, actually, Cheryl. I’m not sure I would have had the courage to come here if we hadn’t had that talk in the staff room that day. You’re a great friend.’
There’s a pause.
‘I’m so glad things are going well for you there, Lorna, because there’s something I need to tell you. I’ve been meaning to tell you for days but then with the funeral and everything … God, I hate to do this on the phone but …’
Hearing the change of tone in her voice I panic. How has she let me rattle on about my news when it’s clear whatever it is she’s trying to tell me isn’t coming out easily?
‘Is everything OK? Is Frankie OK? And Mike?’
‘No, it’s not that. Everyone’s fine.’
I let out a sigh of relief.
‘It’s just that I have news. I don’t really know how to say it so I’m just going to say it, OK?’
‘OK.’
I grip the edge of the bed with my free hand, steadying myself.
‘Mike’s been offered a new job. A promotion.’
I let out a happy sigh.
‘But that’s great, Cheryl! Congratulations to him! I know he’s been looking for something for a while now.’
‘Thank you. Itisgreat news. But the job’s in Manchester.’
My relief quickly disappears, replaced by alarm. I can’t seem to find any words but luckily Cheryl continues, barely pausing between words.
‘I’ve already called Dave the creep. I thought he’d be mad about me giving such little notice but apparently there are cuts coming in for the teaching assistant budget so it saves him having to make me redundant. He’s let me leave straight away. Mike’s new boss wants him to start as soon as he can. So we’re moving in less than two weeks’ time.’
Since arriving on the island it’s felt as though life beyond the shores has paused. It’s just so hard to even picture London when confronted with all that sea and moorland. But the times that I have pictured it, I’ve imagined it being exactly the same as when Ella and I stepped onto the train at Euston. The pavements steaming, the parks full of frisbees and dogs and shirtless men burning under the beam of a hot, swollen sun. I picture our flat: bills stacked on the table, my towel hanging on the back of my door from the shower I had before catching the train. I imagine everything as it was, waiting for Ella and me to return. If I’m honest, I expected the same of Cheryl. It didn’t occur to me that her life might move on without me.
‘So soon, wow.’
It hits me that when I return to school in September, I’ll be returning alone, without my friend. How will I possibly get through the days without her there to laugh and commiseratewith in the staffroom, without her smiling face spotted across the playground? The thought feels unbearable.
