Page 85 of The Next Chapter

‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Oh yeah, that’s completely me. When have you ever known me to not worry about something?’

‘True, true. Though I have to say, it’s refreshing that you have something real to worry about this time.’

‘Are we done here?’ I ask him. ‘This work meeting hasn’t exactly involved an awful lot of work and I need to get on with Mr Vandergilden’s memoirs.’

‘I read a couple of chapters of that, by the way. Good job. I think you really captured his anti-gun regulation ethos.’

‘What a compliment!’ I sound sarcastic, but actually, I’m storing away Seb’s nice words because it’s the sort of affirmation I need on a daily – okay, hourly – basis.

‘We both know you love it,’ Seb answers. He really does know me too well. ‘I did want to talk to you about something, though.’

‘Okay.’ Seb is being more serious than usual. Which is, admittedly, a low bar. My mind goes immediately to the worst-case scenario. Elton has cancer. Seb has cancer. I have cancer and for some reason, Seb has been informed before me.

‘It’s about Lola.’

Lola has cancer!

When she seemed like such a beacon of health to me. Having three parents die on you has to be some sort of sign that you’re cursed, doesn’t it? Not that Lola is a proper parent, but she’s in that general remit. If I was doing a Venn diagram of my family, she’d be on there.

‘Stop panicking for a short minute, will you?’

I realize that my heart is beating very fast. I close my eyes for a second and will it to chill the fuck out.

‘You said that Lola had told you who she is, about the band now?’ Seb asks.

I’m confused. ‘Yeah, that’s right. She mentioned it on Saturday after we’d finished recording. We haven’t covered it as part of her memoirs yet, though.’

‘That doesn’t matter. I just wondered if now might be a good time to tell her who you are.’

‘What? Why?’

‘If Kitty is getting closer to a deal, and you’re halfway through your time up there, this is all going to come out soon, Lily.’

It takes a couple of seconds for Seb’s words to fully register.

Of course, what he’s saying makes sense. I should tell Lola who I am. I’ve gotten so used to lying to her and Noah that I hardly even register it anymore. And as for the thought of her memoirs coming out… I can’t even… I just can’t.

Plus, I’m still all over the place with her. Sometimes, I think I’m fond of her. More than that even, it’s like I admire her. For going through what she went through and surviving all of it and building this place. I had a stable upbringing and I’m a mess. Yet here Lola is, surviving her childhood and still growing her own carrots.

Other times, I can’t see past how angry I am. How unfair it all feels. That she did what she did and still gets to live this life. That she’s here and Mum and Dad aren’t.

I look at Seb.

‘Oh good,’ he says, ‘you’re done.’ It’s probably best not to share that the back of my neck is damp with sweat.

‘Okay, I’ll think about it, I promise. But before we go, I just wanted to say – you know if anything happens to me?’

‘Another death conversation. Excellent.’

‘You’ll like this one. I want you to have the house. And Elton. Maybe you and Mr Cains could work out a joint custody arrangement or something. I’ll get a will, when I get back.’

Seb frowns at me, his dark eyebrows moving closer to the centre of his forehead. ‘What’s brought this on?’

‘I was on the back of Noah’s motorbike the other week.’

‘God, to be a straight woman.’