Page 120 of When We Are Old

Switching off the engine, I got out of the car and pulled the key I’d found from my pocket. As I walked into the flat I glanced up at the name above the door. Florence House.

God, I’d always been so blind.

Not anymore.

Now I saw everything. Every single little damn thing.

The key opened the door, I knew it would. The TV rumbled a low chatter in the front room. Ange curled up on the edge of the sofa, a glass of wine in her hand.

“Ronnie? How did you get in? I didn’t leave the door open again did I?”

I had nothing to say. No words that I could make come. They tangled in my chest just like they always had.

So I held out the key on my palm. She looked at it and then her eyes widened. “Ronnie, it’s not like you think.”

“Isn’t it, Florence?” My nerves kicked me into action. I took my anxiety, the silent thief of words and pushed it down into a deep, dark hole where I would never let it escape from again. “Matthew’s had an accident.”

“I know. Hannah told me.”

“But you haven’t come to help?”

She shrugged. “Didn’t know if I should.”

“Did you know if you should sleep with my husband too?”

“Well why not? You weren’t.”

“Why have you always been like this? I thought you were my friend. I always thought you were on my side, but you fucked my husband and made passes at the love of my life. Why would you do that to me?"

“Oh poor Ronnie. Life treats her so hard, having parents that care about her and want to look after her. Men that will do anything for her. She gets all shy and everyone lets her get away with everything.”

“Seriously? That’s what you think?”

She shrugged and took a sip of her wine.

I had so much to say. For once the ribbon of words created fluid sentences in my brain, they flowed around, articulate and determined.

I chose to say nothing at all.

“Don’t come near myself and Hannah ever again.” I walked for the door, my legs tingling with adrenaline.

“You can’t cope without me, Ronnie. You never have. Ever since I met you, you’ve needed me.”

I turned and laughed, poised by the door.

“No, Ange. It’s you who needed me. Look at you.”

I shut her door behind me, leaving the past of regret behind me once and for all. My guilt washed away with the light rain that fell from the swollen sky and I got in the car ready to sit by Matthew's side until he came back to me.

* * *

“Pancakes!” I hollered up the stairs, waiting for the pounding of feet to follow my call. Three days of the morning school run with Jack and Ewan, and I’d quickly learned they were a sucker for pancakes and syrup, not the ‘rabbit food’ Matthew gave them—their words not mine.

Matthew's health food cupboards were beginning to look a little bit Ronnie’d. I’d put my stamp on the lavender themed house, but it came in the shape of sweets, popcorn, and just about every chocolate I could lay my hands on.

And those were mainly for me.

Stress eating for two.