‘Oh. Ellie. I know you said things were tough. I didn’t think …’
I wave my hands, cutting him off. I’m not up to dissecting why and how it all dissolved away.
‘That’s why you asked about moving the VW.’ I can literally see the pieces of info slotting into place in his head. ‘And why you were irrational at the Lilypad day.’
‘Irrational? Rude? Unfriendly? Me?’ I say, irony dripping off every word.
‘I should have moved it. Damn. Milo wanted to. He knew something was up.’ He puts the photo down on the counter. ‘It’s just we needed the custom too. Mum’s obviously not working for now and Milo’s cut the number of jobs he’s taking in at the garage while the Camper got going. We could move it now. Would that help?’
He sounds upset and I want to reach across and cup his wrist, but I don’t. Instead, I pick up a biro and fiddle with it. ‘It’s fine. This isn’t your fault. And honestly, you moving probably wouldn’t have saved me.’ I look around, memories rebounding off the walls. ‘I buried my head in the sand for too long before admitting to myself how bad things were. And by then it was too late.’
The empathy in his eyes is palpable.
‘But there is one good thing,’ I say, determined to try to look on the bright side of things.
‘Yes?’
‘My rent is already paid up for the next few months. If I get a job that pays the bills, I’ve at least got a roof over my head while I figure things out.’ I take a cloth and wipe down the countertop. ‘How’s Tippi, your mum?’ I’m sick of talking about my own doom and gloom.
He takes my cue. ‘Both good. When I popped out, she was curled up on the bed next to Mum.’ He shows me a photo on hisphone. There’s something peaceful about the scene, although on closer inspection, his mum looks tiny and frail under the blanket that’s tucked around her. Tippi is curled up in the crook of her knees. The little dog’s missing leg is clear, her stump wrapped up in what looks like an elasticated sock, a wide plastic collar around her head.
‘Is she managing alright on three legs?’
He puts his phone down. ‘You’d never know one was missing the way she’s trotting around. Although you should see the look she gives me when she bangs that collar into the doorframe. You’d swear it was all my fault.’ He chuckles.
‘I’m sor –’
He stops me by holding a finger up. ‘No sorrys. We’ve said enough of them.’ His eyes bore through me, the kind of slow-burn stare that heats your skin and steals the breath from your lungs without even a single touch. ‘I know you’re sorry. I am too. But it’s done and gone and dealt with,’ he says. ‘It was no one’s fault.’
I grasp on to the side. Is he talking about us, our situation and what happened before? All the sorrys we were owed and never said.
He twists the ring around on his little finger. ‘I shouldn’t have bailed on you with no explanation, and you’ve been stressed about the café and on top of that, there’s Tippi’s accident. All those sorrys have been said.’
He isn’t. He’s talking about now.
I take a breath, galvanising myself to speak. ‘You’re right. We need to start again and go from here.’ I watch him closely, but his expression never flinches.
I stick my hand out as an offer to shake his and then immediately change my mind. I’m not sure my insides would cope with feeling his strong, warm hand in mine. Instead, I push the brown A4 envelope across the counter.
‘Don’t forget your photo.’
He picks it up and cradles it as if it’s fragile. ‘Thanks for this. It means a lot.’ He picks up his drink and turns to go.
I don’t want to watch him leave and busy myself with cleaning the coffee machine.
‘If you need any help, you will call, won’t you?’ He’s stopped in the open doorway.
‘Of course. Thanks,’ I say, scrubbing hard at a stubborn stain on the drip tray.
He nods, acknowledging my answer, and then he’s gone. I sink to the floor behind the counter and burst into tears all over again.
Seventeen Years Ago
Thirteen weeks pregnant.
Jackson and I trail behind our mums along the school corridor towards the deputy head’s office. A group of girls from my English class walk past and Taz shoves me as she passes before the whole group collapse into sniggers. I thought she was a friend. Maybe it was an accident?
‘I heard Jackson’s left her.’
