Page 32 of One Last Gift

“Please.” He used his wheedling voice, then added, “I have something to show you, something that might cheer you up.”

The mystery had gotten the better of her then, and she’d opened her door, red-eyed, and followed Tom, past the kitchen, where Claire was cooking. “Don’t be too late,” she warned Tom. “School tomorrow.” Tom nodded somberly, flashing a grin at Cassie, who didn’t understand—be too late where?

Sam’s mum was waiting outside, her blue eyes crinkling when she saw Cassie and Tom. “There you are, my loves. All set?” Tom dragged Cassie to the car that always smelled and sounded a little funny, and bundled her into the backseat ahead of him. Sam was already there, grinning, bouncing in boyish excitement.

“Have you told her then?” Sam asked over Cassie’s head, Cassie sandwiched between him and Tom.

“No, it’s a secret.”

“What is a secret?” Cassie asked, and folded her arms when neither of them would tell her, just grinned in that stupid solidarity over her head. But she was intrigued, and she didn’t feel sad anymore.

Sam’s mum had dropped them off at Linda’s pub, and Tom had grabbed her hand, dragged her inside. No one else was there—it was only 4 p.m. and the pub wasn’t open yet. But there was a table set for three, right by the window. A table with a tray of sandwiches and cake, set with white china.

“See?” Tom said excitedly. “We’ve brought the afternoon tea to you.”

Sam took her hand this time, pulling her to the table, and the three of them sat down.

Linda came out from behind the bar, holding a pot of tea and wearing a silly white apron with red dots that Cassie had never seen her in before. She walked over to the table, and Cassie caught a whiff of that coffee scent that Linda always seemed to smell of.

“Tea, madam?” Linda said in a posh voice. She winked at Cassie, and Cassie giggled.

“Cassie Rivers?” Cassie was jolted out of the memory by a slightly Essex-sounding voice, nearly spilling her tea all down herself. She looked up to see a teenage girl putting a three-tiered stand, filled with sandwiches, cakes, and scones, down on the table.

“Sorry, I…Yes.” The girl’s dark hair was plaited down her back, nearly reaching her waist, and her skin was pale, so pale that Cassie wondered if she ever spent any time outside. It made her dark eyes more pronounced, Cassie thought, and she was looking at Cassie a little suspiciously. She wasn’t wearing the same uniform as the rest of the waitresses and Cassie, having worked in hospitality, connected the dots—this girl worked behind the scenes in the kitchen.

Cassie frowned. “Are you Rose?”

The girl nodded, then held out a hand, thrust something toward Cassie. An envelope, with a number two in the corner. Cassie’s heart jumped as she took it. She’d been right. The next clue was here.

“He said to give this to you. Made me memorize your name and everything.”

Cassie looked up at the girl. “You knew him?”

“Nah. He paid me to do it. Twenty quid.” Rose shifted from foot to foot, awkwardness radiating from her body. “He said you’d be here sooner, though. Around Christmas, he said.”

Cassie traced the edges of the envelope with her thumb. “Right. I got delayed.” She didn’t want to say it out loud. Each time she had to say the words—He died—it was like she was reasserting the fact of his absence.

“Well, umm, bye, then.”

Rose turned to leave, but Cassie reached out, grabbed her hand. “Thank you,” she breathed, feeling tears prick her eyes. She wondered whether to say something more, but she couldn’t think of what else that would be. Rose nodded, looking ever so slightly alarmed, and maneuvered out of Cassie’s grip, heading back to the kitchen.

Cassie watched her for a moment, before turning her attention to the envelope. Taking slow, measured breaths, she opened it. Both a note and a clue, like last time. Cassie felt her heart spark, the fact that Tom had left her something more to read, something else to connect her with him. The spark warmed her, gave her a sense of lightness—something she’d thought she’d never feel again, after he died.

Ta-da! I give you the Shard! I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it, once you finish moaning about me making you do it alone. And you better not have closed your eyes the entire time, ok? More importantly though, the clue! Remember that time we went to the races with Sam? Well, this is cooler—and you don’t have to dress up. Definitely worth the wait…

Cassie smiled as she read the note a second time, allowing herself to savor the sound of Tom’s voice in her mind. She stumbled, just a little, over the mention of Sam. She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d left him on the pavement outside the hotel. Had no desire to speak with him ever again. And that was perfectly justifiable, she told herself. He’d deserved what she’d spat at him. Deserved to be feeling terrible about it.

She pushed him from her mind as she read the clue itself, welcoming the sense of nervous anticipation that felt so familiar.

One spring day the teams will meet,

But one will go home in defeat,

All of them have brains, it’s true,

But this is what it means to be a blue.

P.S. I still can’t believe you’ve never done this—time to fix that and try something new.