Page 82 of The Next Chapter

‘You have?’

I nod and let out a nervous giggle.

‘I thought it might be you.’ I do my best to play the part of someone who’s been unknowingly confronted with a megastar. ‘Ashton being here the day me and Seb arrived kind of gave you away.’

Lola squirms, she looks uncomfortable. Maybe I’m playing it too well.

‘They, you were really famous. My mum loved your music. She taught me one of your songs, “Eyes Full of Wonder”. We played it together all the time.’ I talk fast, hoping that Lola doesn’t cotton on to the fact that I just described Mum in the past tense.

‘That song means a lot to me, I’m glad your mum likes it,’ Lola says.

And suddenly, it’s as if there isn’t enough air under the willow tree, like my oxygen deprived brain can’t compute of a world where Lola and Mum coexist.

I often feel like Mum is here with me somehow, but under the willow tree with Lola, it’s as if I can feel her. Right there. It’s comforting and heartbreaking in one fell swoop. And it makes it all so real.

Mostly, when Lola’s telling her story, I can imagine that all of this happened to someone else, someone who isn’t me. It’s worrying that I don’t feel ready for this to be real yet.

But also, ants.

I jump up, almost falling over – my leg is still dead.

‘Shall we pick this up again later in the week?’ I wave a finger between me and Lola, adopting the personality of a highflying New York CEO. ‘I’ve got you down for a Tuesday, is a Tuesday good for you?’

‘Course, Lily. You know, if you wanted to play, we have a karaoke on Saturday nights. It might help Harper to come if you do. She’s taking a liking to you. I know her foster parents are keen for her to get involved. I can probably coax Noah along too.’

I get that one part of the three-pronged plan is for me to get involved in all the stuff on offer to guests. But just, no. I can’t. Not yet at least. Three-pronged plan be damned.

‘No! I mean, maybe. I mean, one week I’ll think about it. Probably just not this week. Or next. I have a timetable.’ I sound like I’ve just got back from a run. ‘Anyway, got to dash. I need to do some washing, it’s on the timetable.’

I know that here I’m meant to be a version of myself that just goes with the flow. A super chilled, grab life by the horns version of me. That version probably would rock up to karaoke with her birth mother and the man she wishes she was having sex with for the summer.

But that’s not me, not really. It’s all pretend. And I can’t have the lines between real me and pretend me blurring. That just won’t do.

And anyway, at least I’m over whatever unsettling Noah thoughts I’d had back at the cave the other week because obviously we’d just been to a beautiful ancient cave. You’d have to be dead inside not to be a little moved. But it’s fine now. I remember about the whole no future thing. I remember my list. I’m over it.

I’m mostly over it.

‘Whatever you like.’ Lola smiles. I wonder if all her smiles are tinged with sadness. She hasn’t got up, so I think she must be staying there. It feels weird walking away while she’s just sat there. I hook a thumb over my shoulder. ‘I’m just going to… washing…’ I finish feebly, walking backwards. I get tangled in the leaves of the willow tree. Willow trees, it turns out, should only be entered face first. At least I’ve tied my hair up and pinned my fringe out of the way. I’m not sure I’d ever escape otherwise.

Lola watches on while I go full Apocalypse Now with the long swoopy branches and lets out a quiet little laugh when I finally emerge victorious.

‘See you later!’ I call from the other side of the tree, doing a speed walk up to the hotel. I’m through the gardens and in front of the cottages in the blink of an eye. Noah is sat outside at his little table, typing away on his laptop.

‘Lily, Lily, is everything okay?’ It takes me a second to realize that my hands are shaking. I’m trying to work the door on my cottage, but I can hardly grip the handle.

Noah’s body is right there. ‘Here, let me help.’ He’s not wearing a T-shirt because it goes without saying that it’s still fucking boiling. Obviously, someone in the universe has decided that today will be the day I get to profoundly suffer.

He follows me into the cottage.

‘Sit down, I’ll get you some water.’

Oh. No. No. No. I can’t have Noah being all extra nice and caring to me. One considerate glass of water and I’ll fall right in love with him for sure.

We have less than three weeks left together. I try to remember my list. About him leaving the country.

But I also can’t do anything other than what he tells me, so I sit on the couch and take a sip of the water he brings me. As he sits next to me I put it on the coffee table, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hands.

‘Did you know that Lola was in a band?’ I ask him, my voice shaky.