Page 86 of Counting Down To You

“Oh, love.” Mum gets up and comes to stand behind me so she can wrap her arms round my shoulders.

I try to swallow back the tears. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to hear this stuff.”

“You mustn’t be sorry,” Mum says fiercely.

“I just, I know you don’t like to talk about it.”

I feel the rise and fall of my mother’s chest, smell the familiar, comforting scent of lavender. “Then I’m the one who should be apologizing.” She gives me another squeeze then moves so she can look down at me. “It’s not that I don’t like to talk about it. Not that at all.” She takes my hands. “It’s just I didn’t think you wanted to talk about it, and I didn’t want to pressure you.” She offers me a small, sad smile. “I know what that’s like to be pressured into things you don’t want to talk about. After your dad left…Well, let’s just say I needed to come to terms with some things on my own. But I am always, always here for you, any time. I hope you know that.”

Emotion rises up in my chest, and I dash away a tear. But I manage to smile. “Unless you go to Bali.”

“Even then.” She sits back down opposite me. “You could come with us.”

A month ago, I would have dismissed this entirely, would have said that I’m not the type to jet across the world. But maybe I’m more like that than I realized. Still…“I’m not sure I’m the yoga sort.”

“But you are the lying on the beach sort,” Mum says, pointing a finger in the air.

I smile. “Yeah. I guess maybe I could be that sort.” And, who knows, after skiing, could I even be more adventurous than that? But thinking about learning to ski makes me think of Leo, so I shut that away as best I can.

“Mum?” I bite my lip. “I do want to talk about Robyn. I’m just not sure how to sometimes.”

My mum smiles, and I can see tears shining in her eyes too. “That’s okay. Maybe we can figure it out together.” She pauses, then adds, “I think it’s wonderful that you miss her, Ali. I know it’s hard. I know it hurts. But missing her means you loved her. It means she mattered to you. And I think that’s all we ever really want, in the end. To matter.”

And maybe, I think, there’s some truth in that. Because wouldn’t it be worse, if no one grieved you, after you were gone? More importantly, wouldn’t it be worse if I didn’t feel like this, because that would mean that I’d never have met Robyn. And one thing is for sure: I would rather have had Robyn for a short while than not at all. I would rather be feeling like this, knowing I had a friend that meant the world to me. A friend that still means the world to me, even if she’s now gone.

Chapter

27

I spend the rest of the day with Mum and Graham, pottering around the house, watching stupid daytime TV and helping to make dinner. I leave my phone off the whole time, still not feeling able to deal with anything that might be waiting for me. But the next day I have to switch it on to send a message to Cal, telling him I’m back in London and asking to meet up. I get a long line of question marks back, but I don’t have it in me to explain over text.

I’ll explain when I see you, I send instead, still in my pajamas and propped up against the spare-bed pillows.

There’s a message from Lucie too.

Brooks has gone full on mental. What the hell happened between you two? He’s in spiral mode, never seen him like this. All your stuff is still here. You haven’t left for good, right?

I bite my lip, looking at the WhatsApp chat from Leo, which is showing eight unread messages and three missed calls. I think about sending him a message saying I don’t want to talk to him, but that would involve opening up the chat to see what he’s written.

I open the only other unread message I have to catch up on instead.

So he told you about the heart.

Blunt and to the point, which is just like Stuart. Leo told me that he knew, but this means Leo has also told Burgers about our conversation. Did he know all along? The thought of that sits uncomfortably in my chest. Another message comes through before I can decide what to say back.

You think you’ll come back?

He doesn’t explicitly say for New Year’s, but I wonder if he’s thinking that. After all, I said I’d help him. But I can’t face Leo after this.

I don’t think I can. I’m so sorry.

I watch as he types, stops, types again. I’m expecting a really long reply, but in the end all that comes through is: I get it.

And maybe he does. Maybe, after Alex, he is one of the few people who might understand a little of how hurt I am by this, how angry. It doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty, though, for turning my back on him.

I put down my phone and distract myself by opening the next challenge.

Forgive someone in need of forgiveness.