Page 26 of The Edge of Always

At least here, alone, I feel more myself.

I check my phone. The people on here understand, and this morning’s video blog has gone down unexpectedly well. There are fifty-six comments already and a couple of hundred likes. I have a quick scan of what they’re saying. Some of my regulars are complaining that it’s not death art, but more people are commenting that they’re looking forward to the mini-series.

There are messages from Mum and Mae, too.

Mum: Call me immediately Luna or I’m going to Dr Dave.

Mae: How was it? Message as soon as you’ve seen it.

I reluctantly reply to Mum.

Me: I’m fine, Mum. Honestly, Dr Dave knows and says it’s okay. I’ll be back on Wednesday.

It’ll be a while till she replies. She has Ashanti yoga on Monday mornings.

Me: The piece is beautiful. I can’t believe he managed to do it in secret. I wish you could see it.

Mae: It’s online you know. Gorgeous. Go Earl! How are you feeling?

Me: I’m alright. Taken my meds. But some stuff happened and I’m kind of freaking out.

Immediately, my phone rings.

‘Mae, you’re meant to be at work.’

‘Gemma says it’s fine.’ Gemma is Mae’s boss and a part-time friend of ours. She gives Mae a huge amount of leeway on account of me and how I am.

I start to cry as soon as I hear Mae’s voice. I hate this. I hate feeling so confused and feeble and like I need Mae to take care of me. It’s not the way that it’s meant to be. Plus, there’s just so much more crying than I expected there to be in Paris. I’m breaking all of my rules.

‘So, what happened?’

I tell Mae about the painting, how people in the gallery had realised that it was me and started asking me questions and taking pictures.

‘Wow, that must have been so stressful. Especially since you’re such a hermit.’

‘It was awful. I escaped and I’m in a park now, which is better, but that’s not all of it.’

I explain how Emmett had come to sit next to me on the bench and then asked me to meet him later.

‘Oh my god, Emmett’s in Paris. This is brand new information. Brand new.’

My chest tightens. I can read Mae like a book.

‘Mae,’ I say.

‘What are the chances of that? I mean Emmett, in Paris, on the exact same day as you?’

‘You didn’t,’ I say.

‘Didn’t what?’

‘Don’t play that with me. You told Emmett I was coming.’

My heart rate is up again. I haven’t felt well all morning, and I can’t help but assume that all this stress isn’t exactly great for me. Dr Dave probably thought I was coming on a nice chilled mini-break; that’s likely why he agreed. Instead, I’m so high on adrenaline that even my fingers are stiff and tense. I didn’t think that was possible.

‘No,’ she answers. ‘I didn’t tell him.’

‘Mae, you’re no good at semantics. You never have been. Just tell me the truth, I won’t even be mad.’ This is a total lie. I’m livid.