‘Carl gave me these,’ I say, pulling out the stack of drawings from my bag. ‘He kept his rubbish. Thought he could sell them if Michael ever became successful.’
She laughs. ‘Sounds about right. He hid it, but deep down he thought the sun shined out of Mike’s arse. Wouldn’t let Mike know that, but it was obvious to anyone with half a brain. He was never the same kid after. It changes you, doesn’t it? Losing someone so close to you, so young. He went off the rails for a few years. Pulled himself back though. In the end.’
Her hand reaches across and she lifts a drawing of her laughing, a spatula in her hand.
‘Well, I never!’ She laughs as I push more of the drawings forward. ‘I had no idea he drew me.’
‘He drew you a lot. Look…’
We go through the stack, Kate giving me stories of how he would draw while she worked, the way he saw things that others didn’t. We talk about the letters some more, and she brings down the box of tapes. I begin taking photos, making sure to capture the heart of his art. His music. She tells me about his favourite films, the clothes he used to wear.
‘I’m going to find her – Alice. If I can.’
She nods. ‘He would have liked that.’
We’re lost in our thoughts for a moment, her hand running along the ring along her chain.
‘Carl… mentioned a ring?’ She looks down at her fingers, releasing it.
‘She dropped it, the night he met her. Was desperate to get it back, wore it on his chain like a bleedin’ St Christopher.’
‘Carl mentioned he found a message with her correct address?’
‘Aye. But… you have to understand, I was, well, angry with her. For a long time. If it hadn’t have been for the idea of her waiting there that day, maybe he wouldn’t have gone. He offeredto stay and help me with some furniture, but I knew he wanted to go. It was the hope, you see. That she’d be there that had him still going. Well, that and his daft ritual with his mates.’
‘You blamed her?’ I don’t say it like an accusation, just a fact.
‘Yes. At first. And then… Well, time passed. Bobby and me got together and then life got in the way. I did try to find her, when my Billy was about five. Went to the right address but she’d already moved on.’
She changes the subject, and before I know it a few hours have passed, and I feel like I have enough to be able to do his story justice. She brings out the letters, wrapped in a small piece of fabric.
‘Thank you, for leaving the letters. I can’t tell you how nice it’s been to hear his voice again.’
‘You’re welcome. He… he really helped me.’ I sigh, dragging my hands through my hair. ‘I’ve been going through a bit of a bad time, to be honest – lost my job, my home… my fiancé.’
My best friend.
She reaches out, taking my hand. ‘I’m sorry.’
I nod.
‘He talked about you a lot.’ I bring the subject back to her.
She looks down at the letters, her hand resting on them.
‘He did. We were close.’
Her eyes meet mine, and it’s like she wants me to say the words for her.
‘You were in love with him…’ I say softly.
A small noise comes from the back of her throat, tears filling her eyes before giving a short nod.
‘He never knew though. Always oblivious to things staring him in the face. It’s the hardest thing, to be in love with someone who doesn’t see you.’
My pulse rushes in my ears as she reaches over for the teapot and tops up her cup. ‘It’s my biggest regret, not telling him before…’
I take a breath, Spence’s words from last night still echoing through my thoughts. ‘Do you think he might have felt the same way?’
