‘I have better things to be doing than standing around here.’ Dad is wagging his index finger at me. ‘Your mother persuaded me this was a good idea.’
‘No one thought to ask me though, did they?’ I take a step back. ‘No one ever thinks to include me in anything. I’m sick of people trying to run my life and me doing what I’m told.’
‘Now you are being ridiculous. We only want what is best for you,’ says Dad.
‘Except that should be my choice. And from now on it is.’ My voice has got louder and my heart is rebounding wildly in my chest. ‘I’ll make my own decisions about my life and how I run it. I don’t need anyone’s interference.’
Dad opens his mouth to speak, and I fling my hand out palm up. ‘I’m done. And until you can accept that you don’t need to contact me.’
And without waiting for an answer, I turn my back on them all and march away, my head held high, but a deep sick feeling throbbing throughout my body.
I have no idea where I’m going and put one foot in front of the other along the coast road, my head down, staring at the gravel of the road. I have never spoken to my parents the way I just have and I’m beginning to regret it. I force my feet to keep walking and decide I’ll cut across the library green and down the steps onto the beach. Maybe I should paddle out into the sea and never come out?
A toddler’s wail breaks into my thoughts and the closer I get to the bend in the road, the louder it becomes.
‘I want ice sceem. Where’s it gone?’
An adult answers in a lower voice, so it’s impossible to catch the words.
‘No! I want from here. Ice sceem, now.’ The shout merges into loud sobs.
I feel sorry for whoever it is. Grumpy little ones test the patience of saints. I round the bend and realise why the crying voice sounded familiar. Olly is lying on his back, kicking his legs repeatedly into the ground. His fists are curled tight and his little face is bright red. Reeni is standing next to him, talking to Milo. Crap.
‘Olly, get up. The van isn’t here. We can get ice cream from Bert’s Bakery,’ says Reeni, bending over him.
‘Olly wants ice sceem from van,’ Olly wails again, his balled-up fists rubbing his eyes.
As Reeni straightens, our eyes meet. Everything fades around me and I panic. Do I go towards her? Offer to help? Say hello? Before I’ve made a decision, Reeni makes it for me. She turns her back on me and stoops to scoop Olly up in her arms. She says something to Milo and then walks in the direction of Main Street, Olly kicking and squirming in her arms.
There’s a pain in the back of my throat as I try in vain to swallow. Milo raises a hand and calls out, ‘Hello.’
I feebly raise a hand back and then break into a run towards the concrete steps down onto the beach. I take them two at a time. Each step jars and then my feet sink in the dry sand at the bottom. I continue to run along the dune line. Sharp pains scorch my calves from having to work so hard and my chest feels like it’s going to explode as I gasp for breath. I push my legs to work even harder to block everything out.
Eventually, I can’t keep going. I come to a hidden patch ofsand in the dunes and turn down it. My knees buckle and I collapse into the golden patch of sand surrounded by a wall of tall, waving grass. My chest is on fire from trying to breathe in enough oxygen to keep going. I hug my knees to my chest and my gasps for air disintegrate into sobs. I can’t stop the tiny wails which come out from deep down inside me, and I don’t think I want to. My life has fallen apart.
I couldn’t save my business and I’m going to lose my home.
Despite what I told Greg, I don’t have the confidence to try the photography idea.
My best friend in the world won’t even look at me and neither now will my parents.
Jackson hates me.
Sophie is going to die and I want to scream at the top of my lungs that it’s not fair.
I rock back and forth, my fingernails digging into my legs. My shoulders are shuddering from the simple effort of trying to get a breath.
‘Ellie?’
I hold my breath at the sound of Milo’s voice, praying he’ll walk straight past me. But the grasses sway as he walks through them.
He crouches down next to me and pulls me against him, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. ‘Ellie. It’s OK. I got you,’ he murmurs into my hair.
The comforting touch of another human being undoes me. My body turns to jelly and I melt into Milo’s chest. My mouth is open from the wet, snotty sobs which vibrate through me. He holds me close and bit by bit, my breathing regulates, and the thumping of my heart lessens. They are replaced by my shame. What the hell will Milo think of me?
His hands haven’t moved. Just held a constant reassuring pressure around me as his cheek rests on the top of my head. Istruggle to sit up and shuffle back a little, putting space between us.
‘Are you OK?’ His voice is gentle and enquiring as his fingers hold my chin softly for a second.
