‘Does he? I think that’s sweet!’
‘Uh, yeah. It is,’ Eddie blusters, sensing that he’s dug himself into some kind of hole, as now it’s Raj she wants to talk about.
‘So, you two are old friends, are you?’
‘Yeah.’ He nods. ‘We grew up in the same town.’
‘He’s very good-looking,’ she ventures.
‘Is he?’ Eddie blinks. ‘Oh, I dunno …’
She laughs then, and he realises she’s playing with him as she adds, ‘And so are you.’
Eddie has no idea how he should respond to that. By insisting he isn’t, or saying, ‘Thank you’? Neither option seems right. But then he realises he doesn’t have to respond – at least not in words – as Lyla is kissing him. As in, she instigated the kiss. He’d have been no more shocked if she’d suddenly turned into a unicorn. But within a blink he’s relaxed into it, and now, as they kiss, all the people and thumping music and bin smells fade away. And then she’s taking his hand and somehow her jacket is found and pulled on, and she’s leading him out of the flat and into the not especially fragrant lift.
They kiss some more as the metallic box descends to ground level. Then out they tumble and everything goes hazy, and now Eddie realises how very drunk he is. Should he have told Calum and Raj that he was leaving? No, he’s not answerable to anyone now! Too late anyway as nowthey’re in an Uber, leaving the estate. Lyla must have called it; Eddie doesn’t even have an account.
He must get an Uber account and be a city-dwelling adult man! But at least he has his own set of keys to his new home, so everything’s fine. He delves a hand into his jeans pocket, reassured by their metallic presence there.
Now they’ve stopped outside a building. Eddie has no idea where they are, but they’re stumbling out of the cab, and Lyla has taken his hand as they climb the short flight of wide stone steps to the front door. They’re inside the building now and clattering upstairs. The stairwell is far nicer than the one at Raj and Calum’s place.My place too,Eddie reminds himself. He lives there too now. It’s his home. It hardly seems possible.
They reach a landing where Lyla stops. Eddie takes in the shiny brown floor tiles that remind him briefly of those Toffee Pennies in the Quality Street tin, the ones that are always left at the end. Then Eddie is no longer thinking about Toffee Pennies as they are inside a flat. A huge abstract painting dominates the wall above a fireplace. The living room is beautiful in an extremely tasteful way, like a hotel room almost, with tall, multi-paned windows. Eddie has never been in a flat like it before.
Wherearethey? He doesn’t care because now he and Lyla are kissing on a sofa that seems to be made out of velvet. Eddie’s so happy, and Lyla is so beautiful, and her skin is like, like – what do they say? Like porcelain? Yeah, that’s it. She has skin like his mum’s favourite cup, the one he knocked off the kitchen worktop the other night, after they’d come back from the Italian restaurant and his parents had gone to bed. He’d quickly swept up thepieces and buried them at the bottom of the kitchen bin, a guilty secret. ‘Has anyone seen my pink cup?’ he heard his mum asking next morning. ‘Eddie, love, is it in your room?’ He’d feigned sleep.
Now Eddie and Lyla stop kissing and curl up together on the sofa in silence. It doesn’t feel awkward, not talking at all. In fact, it feels completely right. And in the stillness of this unfamiliar room he tries to make sense of the amazing discoveries he’s made in the few hours since he left home.
That people have parties on Thursday nights.
And he can go to such a party and be abandoned by his so-called mates and it’ll be fine.
In fact,betterthan fine. Because he’s met a beautiful girl who seems to really, really like him.
And leaving home – something Eddie had worried might never happen – is more thrilling than he could have imagined.
For one split second, as Lyla reaches for a glass of water and takes a big swig, he thinks about that smashed pink cup again, which funnels his thoughts to his mum and dad. They’re going to miss him so much. But they’ll cope, he decides. Maybe they’ll get some hobbies? Isn’t that what old people do?
Then Eddie’s not thinking about his mum and dad anymore as Lyla has put down the glass, and she’s smiling and her eyes are sparkling in the darkened room as she pulls him up by the hand.
‘Where we going?’ Eddie croaks.
‘Where d’you think?’ They go into another room – is it her bedroom? Yeah, the clue’s in the fact that there’s abed in it. And they fall onto it, and Eddie’s entire being seems to split into billions of shooting stars as she winds her arms around him and their clothes seem to dissolve into thin air.
This must be Lyla’s place, Eddie decides. It’s somewhere in Edinburgh – he has no idea where, but right now, as she wraps herself around him, he doesn’t care. Because the place Eddie Silva has landed in is actually Heaven, and in his drunken haze he could happily stay here for the rest of his life.
Chapter Nine
February
Carly
Six weeks have passed since Eddie left home. Now, I’m not saying it’s great being empty-nesters.
No, actually, I am! It’s bloodybrilliant!There’s been no gathering up dirty plates and bits of crust from Eddie’s room. No constant veering between frustration and worry at the sight of him rotting away in that robe – which, incidentally, he forgot to take to Edinburgh. I offered to bring it over when we visited, but he politely declined. I took this to mean that he can now exist quite happily without it, which had to be a positive sign.
On top of that, a blissful sense of calm has settled over the house. There’s no muttering and whispering when we hope he’s out of earshot – and now Frank and I can happily stroll about in our pants, simply pleasing ourselves. The sense of freedom is almostdizzying.All that trying my utmost to be patient and supportive, because maybe Eddie was depressed? I love my son dearly but Christ, it was exhausting by the end.
Plus, for over two decades Frank and I have managed tojust aboutkeep our sex life going, albeit hanging by a thread at times. Because the kids have been here, and Eddie’s room shares a wall with ours, we’ve learnt to be incredibly quiet. Not that we’re yelling the house down now, or throwing each other around the room – but we’re certainly freer and, frankly, it’s more fun. A knock-on effect is that we’re more affectionate, even as we’re doing ordinary things like cooking together or watching a film. It’s almost like being a new couple again, when those passionate reunions were all we had.
