Head in hands, I thought about Marie. For more than thirty years she’d been in my life, swearing like a navvy, bossing us, creating noise and telling us to play, to smile, that it was okay to make mistakes and have fun because we were kids and she could keep us safe while we were having fun, which she did.
A knock at my door made me look up, brought me out of the daze. It wasn’t locked, a fact I was reminded of when it opened and Wren stood there, the dimming light behind her making her look more like a silhouette.
“You’ve been ages. There’s a poker game about to be set up if you want to join us.”
I remembered when she found me once at college after I’d had a row with my dad about not going home for a family party. She’d said the same thing then: Jonah had been arranging a card game following a big college rugby match and she’d come up to my room, found me holding my head, not sure of who I was or wasn’t and where I was meant to be.
“Not tonight.”
Wren entered and closed the door, the latch quietly clicking. She sat down next to me on the bed and put an arm across my back, her fingers on the nape of my neck, toying with the hair that probably needed cutting. It always needed cutting.
“What’s happened?”
I looked up at her, dark hair mussed, make-up free, tanned. Tired. We’d been up since four-thirty but tomorrow was a later start.
“Max called. Marie isn’t well and he’s worried about her.”
She nodded. “How’s she not well?”
“Chest. It’s been bad for months. She’s been to the doctors and they’ve just said it’s an infection but it isn’t getting any better. Max and Vic are going to my parents’ tomorrow and he’ll make sure she gets herself checked out.”
“So there’s nothing you can do right now. Have you phoned her?”
“No. Not tonight. I don’t know what I’ll end up saying.”
“Get an early night then. Sleep. Everything will seem better in the morning.”
I laughed, seeing her smile, her eyes, feeling her hands on me.
“Have you heard from Matt?”
She nodded. “Yesterday. Just a message to say he was home and he hoped we could talk when I got back. I haven’t responded.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Probably. Shall I leave you to it?”
I didn’t move. Speak. Just looked at her. She’d kissed me and I’d barely responded, memories of when we were twenty-two knocking me off kilter. Memories of every decision I’d made when it came to not having relationships doing the same.
“Stay?”
I didn’t know what I was asking of her.
“What do you need from me, Callum?”
“I don’t know. I need to forget.”
“So what are you asking me for?”
I stood up, moved away from her. “Why didn’t you want to try us?”
“Why did you want me to be the first person you had a relationship with?” She shifted back on the bed, resting against the pillows.
“Because I was in love with you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know how. Wren, I’m still screwed up. Max has just told me I need to talk to my dad, that there’s shit I don’t know, but… fuck. Back then I had no idea what I was feeling, just that when I was with you everything was alright.”
