‘There are some things they shouldn’t be doing, though.’ She swallows. ‘Jackson won’t listen. He tells me I have to fight, but in my situation that isn’t going to make things better and then I end up feeling like I’m failing them. As if I haven’t tried hard enough. Haven’t been brave enough.’
My insides feel like they’ve been ripped into pieces. ‘What can I do to help?’ I’m hoping there’s something.
‘Nothing, my love. Be there for Jackson. He’s going to need someone. There’s nothing anyone can do. Things will be what they’ll be.’
‘How are you so calm about it all?’ I blurt out before thinking. ‘It’s not right. You’re not even old.’
‘You’ll not be thinking anything I haven’t myself. I’ve screamed, cried, been angry at the world for how unfair it all is and ended up at acceptance. A part of me is still terrified at leaving them behind and not being able to watch them be happy and settled in their lives.’ She picks up a framed photo of the three of them and gazes at it. ‘But that choice has been taken from me. And if I’m honest, there are times when I go to bed in so much pain and exhaustion that I hope I don’t wake up to face another day.’ She puts the frame back on the bedside table. ‘I want to make this as easy as I can for the boys.’ She deflates as if that last thought is more than she can bear. ‘I might try and sleep now if that’s OK.’
‘Of course.’
I help her settle on the bed and lay the blanket over her gently, as if she’s fine china and I’ll break her. Tippi moves to lie down in the crook of her knee, her chin resting on Sophie’s calf.
‘If you need anything, just call,’ I say, but her eyes are already closed.
Chapter Sixteen
I almost run to the kitchen and close the door behind me. I want to cry. No, make that scream. Loud and at the top of my lungs. Hurl things around the kitchen so they crash around me and throw a punch through the wall. I do none of these things and sink into a kitchen chair instead.
How can this be right? How can she not want to wake up because that’s better than living her life? Why do shit things always happen to the people who don’t deserve them?
Sophie has always been lovely to me. As fifteen-year-olds, Jackson and I had made stupid choices, and she’d supported everything we decided to do and even brought my mum around to that way of thinking. After running away from her and Jackson, there was no hint of animosity when she came into the café and met me again all those years later. I’d been scared of facing her, but there was never any judgement, only compassionand a kind smile. And even today, now I know what she’s going through, she held me and told me she believed in me.
I thump a curled fist down hard on the kitchen table at the injustice of it all. And then a sadness cloaks me from head to toe. It clings to me as if I’ve been wrapped tight in cling film and can’t remove it. All those years I wasted hiding from the people who probably knew me the most. And now there’s no time left.
I bite down on the cuff of my hoodie to stop the wail that wants to erupt out of me. The last thing I want to do is wake Sophie up or make her feel guilty because I’m crying. She has enough to deal with.
My phone dings from inside my bag on the table. It’s a text message from Jackson and my heart lifts a little.
JACKSON:How’s Mum?
ME:All good. She ate something, now she’s having a nap. How are you getting on?
JACKSON:Nightmare.
I wait for him to elaborate, but there’s silence.
Shit. I cannot do anything right. I’d be better if I stayed away from everyone.
A knock on the front door breaks my destructive train of thought. I wonder for a second if I can ignore it. But whoever it is knocks for the second time. I stand and brush myself down, as if that’s going to sort everything, and go to open the door. There’s a small lady with a perfect silver-grey bob and a wide smile standing on the doorstep.
‘Hi. I’m Roz. Sophie’s friend. Jackson said you were filling in for him while he had to go out.’ Her eyes are soft and gentle as she speaks. ‘How’s she doing?’
I step back a little, opening the door wider. ‘She’s good. Just in bed. Come in.’
‘I can stay with her now, if you like?’
I have an initial flash that I shouldn’t abandon Sophie, then Iremember she mentioned a good friend called Roz and I really could do with getting out of here.
‘That’d be great, if you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all.’ She squeezes my arm in a friendly gesture. ‘Thanks for being here.’
I grab my bike and wheel it. My head is too full to even think about pedalling. Another text comes in from Jackson.
JACKSON:We have to shut the café.
I stare at the screen. After the day I’ve had, I didn’t think it could get any worse. My finger hovers over the phone keyboard, but no words come. None that I want to write, anyway. I wonder if I should offer to let Milo move the van to The Beach House, but almost immediately shelve the idea. Much as I love Milo, I don’t think I could handle seeing Jackson every day.
