Only one thing for it, he decides. For a few years now, Eddie has been able to enjoy a few drinks without making a fool of himself. At parties back in Sandybanks, he was never the one puking on someone’s bathroom floor. He might not have many notable talents – not like Bella, wowing the marketing agency in London and getting a job there at twenty-one. Or Ana sailing right into art school. But what heisgood at is pacing himself, when it comes to alcohol. ‘You hold it together, man,’ Raj always says.
Well, stuff that. Never mind pacing himself tonight. He strides out of the bathroom, making straight for the kitchen where he glances around stealthily, picks up a vodka bottle and pours a generous shot into a plastic cup. He gulps it and pours another. No one notices the small-town boy stealing their drink and so he has somemore. And as he drinks, Eddie starts to feel less awkward and more like he belongs here. And next time he goes – actually wobbles – to the bathroom, he is amazed to see that the terrible spots have simmered down and are barely noticeable now.
Forget skincare, he decides as he studies his face. The thing to do with a spotty outbreak is to annihilate it with vodka. It’s obvious to him now! He should market it as a miraculous cure and make a fortune! Eddie takes another swig from the cup he’s brought into the tiny bathroom with him, wondering briefly if his vision is blurred, and that’s why his skin seems to have improved. But no matter, because if Eddie is viewing the world all fuzzily now, then so is everyone else. Clinging onto that thought, he bounds out of the bathroom.
And that’s when it happens. Eddie literally crashes into a girl who’s standing there. And not justanygirl.
She’s the most beautiful girl Eddie has ever seen in his life.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ he exclaims.
‘It’s okay,’ she says, touching his arm lightly. As she smiles, Eddie feels as if all the bad stuff that’s happened tonight has ceased to matter.
Raj and Calum abandoning him. His clothes and hair suddenly being all wrong, and having no one to talk to and feeling so very lost.
Everything is fine now – no, it’s actually brilliant. Because this beautiful girl, who’s obviously made from sunshine, is smiling at Eddie. The empty plastic cup crumples in his sweaty grip. And his heart seems to stop.
And although he can’t possibly know it yet, at precisely 11.27 on a bitterly cold January night, Eddie Silva has stepped out of his old life forever, and into a new life that nothing could have prepared him for.
And nothing will ever be the same again.
Chapter Seven
Living at Kilmory Cottage: Carly & Frank
Carly
‘So we’ve done it, darling,’ Frank announces.
‘We have.’ I smile at him, lying beside me in bed.
He chuckles and touches my cheek. ‘Bit of a shithole, wasn’t it?’
‘Oh, it’s not too bad. My first place was worse.’
‘Yeah. I rememberthatdump very well,’ he teases.
‘Anyway, it’s better than being stuck here with us, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. Anything’s better than that.’
‘So it’s just me and you now,’ I remind him. ‘How d’you feel about that?’
‘Fucking terrified.’ He squeezes my hand.
‘So you should be!’ Although bone-tired from all the box lugging, I can’t settle tonight. But Frank is already drifting off at just gone midnight, so I slip quietly out of bed and pace around downstairs, wondering what Eddie’s doing now, and knowing I’m being ridiculous.
He’s twenty-two! What do I think he’s doing on hisfirst night in Edinburgh? Celebrating of course – with his best mates.
I still can’t quite believe it’s only the two of us now, in this house where there were three, then four, then five. I click on the kettle and hunt around for my favourite bone china cup – a gift from Prish. Tea just isn’t the same in anything else. But there’s no sign of it here and I’ve already gathered up all the disgusting bacteria-incubating mugs left in Eddie’s room.
Settling for a substitute cup, I carry my tea through to the living room.The Empty-Nester’s Handbookcatches my eye from the bookshelf. Thinking it might settle me – to read about this being a perfectly natural stage – I pull it from the shelf, stretch out on the sofa and flick it open.
The trick is to focus not on what your adult kids might be up to, because your work there is done. Instead, think about this thrilling new life stage you’re embarking on …
I smile at that. Frank doesn’t believe in life stages. To him, it’s just life. But now I’m thinking we should mark this somehow. Do something to celebrate the fact that, at long last, our firstborn has got his act together.
I fetch my laptop and settle back on the sofa, excited now as an idea starts to form.
