glad I can make him so happy so easily. I don’t hear from Jake. I guess he could be eating with them, or maybe he’s gone to the gym. Or maybe somewhere else. Jennifer’s.
The thought keeps creeping up on me. I wish it didn’t, but I can’t quite shake the fact that for years I thought I knew where he was, what he was doing. But I didn’t. Logan gets bored of beating me so easily and says he’s going to play with his friends online now. I’ve enjoyed our mother–son time but honestly, I hate video games, and am relieved. I go downstairs into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine.
I am not planning on snooping. I’m planning on picking up a book and losing myself in someone else’s world, but I find myself in the room that Jake designated as his office. I flick on his PC. A subconscious part of my brain has taken over and my body is just following instructions. Whilst the PC is warming up, humming into life, I open his desk draws. I idly flick through his paperwork. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for – emails or cards from her, phone records that prove they are still talking to one another. I wonder if he’s changed his password. It used to be our wedding anniversary.
50
Emily
Megan keeps her room really tidy. She always has. Ridley and I used to tease her and say she had OCD, but my mum said we weren’t allowed to do that because mental disorders weren’t a laughing matter and just because a teenager keeps her room tidy, it doesn’t mean she has a syndrome. My mum can be really worthy. Megan sits on the stool in front of the dressing table and I sit on her neat bed that could have been made by a soldier and I wish there was some clutter lying about, something for me to pick up and play with, something to distract us both.
‘Do you want to listen to some music?’ she asks. I nod. She puts on Billie Eilish’s latest release. I downloaded this recently too. It cheers me that we have continued to listen to the same music, even when our lives were spiralling in different directions. It means something about us, our friendship. ‘How’ve you been?’ she asks eventually.
I shrug. Where to start? Rich? Euphoric? Lonely? Terrified? I go with, ‘Pregnant.’
‘For real?’ Her eyes are saucers. I almost want to giggle. It’s always felt pretty fun shocking Megan because, out of the two of us, she’s probably the most daring.
It’s no fun though when I have to add, ‘I was. I lost it, during the abduction.’ She nods and looks out the window.
‘Are you sad?’ she asks.
‘What would I have done with a baby?’
She shrugs, ‘I dunno, cuddle it?’ It’s so true. That’s what I could have done. I flop back on the bed and let the hot silent tears fall onto her duvet. She gets up from the dressing-table stool and comes to lie next to me.
‘Does Ridley know?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He didn’t want it. I guess he’s happy now. I think he’s with Evie Clarke.’
‘That won’t last,’ she says loyally.
‘I don’t care.’
‘Yeah, you do.’
‘Yeah, I do.’
She holds my hand and says nothing more. We stay like that for ages. The light in her room starts to change, it becomes orange, then pink. The sun is setting. I feel peaceful. Placed.
‘I’m sorry about that thing we did to you. In the loos, you know.’ Megan is mumbling. Embarrassed. She hates apologising.
‘It’s OK.’ It seems a long time ago; so much more and so much worse has happened since. ‘Why were you so angry though? You know I would have shared everything with you.’
‘My mum said it was unfair,’ Megan shrugged.
‘Your mum and my dad are taking ages with the shopping,’ I point out.
‘Most likely gone to the pub. I guess they have a lot to talk about. Or maybe my mum has had a call from the police station.’ Megan keeps her eyes on the ceiling. I slide my glance towards her. I’m so happy in this moment, bathed in friendship and an orange sunset, I don’t want to spoil things but since she’s brought it up …
‘It was you, wasn’t it?’
‘What was me?’
‘You were the person who gave me water and chocolate.’ The words stutter out of my mouth, like a faulty firework that you can’t trust because you don’t know when it will explode.