It wasn’t so much that, Mum. It was more that you tried to keep everyone else happy. But sometimes, it just doesn’t work like that.
Since you went away, I’ve spent fleeting moments in your bedroom, but one Wednesday afternoon sticks in my mind. The rain had been battering against the windows as I found myself drawn back in. Switching on the light, your room felt cosy as I stood there, everything almost as you left it.
As I picked up your beloved Eeyore, my eyes skimmed your pictures and photos, the notes you’d written to yourself that were pinned onto an old corkboard; your collection of books that told a story of you.
Hearing the front door open then slam shut, suddenly I was on alert. Then realising it must be Ollie, I started to relax. I went to put Eeyore back just as your bedroom door swung open. Standing there, it wasn’t Ollie. It was Ryan.
My shock gave way to wariness; I could tell from his demeanour he’d been drinking. ‘What are you doing here, Ryan?’
‘It’s still my house.’ He slurred his words.
‘It isn’t. I bought you out.’ I clutched Eeyore, cursed myself for not changing the lock. ‘You can’t just walk in.’
‘You can’t stop me,’ he said. ‘I miss her too.’
I knew he was hurting. But it didn’t give him the right to walk in like this. Suddenly I was furious. All the years you were in his life, Ryan did nothing positive for you. He had no right to feel so sorry for himself. ‘When it comes to parenting, you fucked up – big time.’ I didn’t care how brutal I sounded. ‘You can’t let yourself into my house and make demands like this.’
‘You should throw that thing away.’ His words intentionally cruel as he nodded towards Eeyore.
But my blood was boiling. How dare he say that? Nor did he have any right to tell me how to navigate my grief. Getting up, I put Eeyore back on the shelf, then pushed past Ryan. There were things to say, but I didn’t want to taint your room. Standing in the hallway, I glared at Ryan. ‘You are a vile, insensitive human being.’
He smirked. ‘I’ve always loved it when you’re angry.’
Looking at him, I was flabbergasted. I wanted to kick him, punch him. Hurt him as much as he’d hurt all of us. And maybe I would have, if a whisper of your voice hadn’t come to me.
Don’t lower yourself, Mum. He isn’t worth it. He’s scum.
‘I feel sorry for you.’ I spat the words out. ‘If you had a shred of decency in you, you’d think about someone other than yourself.’
‘Like you think about me?’ he goaded.
I could see now, clear as day, there wasn’t a void between us. There was a dark, rock-strewn chasm of unfathomable depth. ‘This is my house. Get out.’
Was it a turning point in some way? Did I learn? The next morning I called a locksmith; no way was this ever going to happen again.
After a period of rain, the weather gives way to clear skies and overnight frosts. This morning I come down to the kind of landscape you’ve always loved: dusted silver, sparkling. After scraping ice off the windscreen, when I get to work, Lucy is buzzing around at warp speed.
‘I forgot to tell you we have a meeting this morning,’ she says excitedly. ‘About what’s probably going to be the most massive wedding we’ve ever done.’
‘That’s good isn’t it?’ I look at her, wondering how she could have forgotten, not sure I’ve ever seen her quite like this as suddenly I’m uncertain. ‘What is it you’re not saying?’
Her eyes are shining. ‘They want to film us.’
I open my mouth to speak. Lucy knows my aversion to being in the limelight.
She holds a hand up. ‘Before you say anything, I know what you think about these things. But they’re offering to pay us really well, Edie. And I mean, much, much more than we’d normally get. And we’ll get major social media exposure. It’ll put us on the map! If this works out, we’ll be able to pick and choose our clients.’
‘I like things as they are,’ I say cautiously. ‘There isn’t too much pressure. We know how it goes.’
‘Just listen to you.’ Lucy rolls her eyes at me. ‘OK,’ she says more gently. ‘I get that right now you have other things on your mind – that’s the reason I hadn’t mentioned this before. But please, Edie… think about this. We could both do with earning more. This could be our way to achieve that.’
‘How much are they paying?’ I ask suspiciously.
She mentions an eyewatering sum.
‘That’s mad.’ I blink at her. ‘Why?’ Suddenly I frown. ‘When you said they want to film us…’
‘The whole thing,’ my friend says. ‘From the first meeting to the big day itself.’
