The Two Lives of Lydia Bird - Josie Silver Page 0,17

me up as we walk the last few steps to my pale turquoise front door. We all have different-coloured woodwork in our row, a pastel paint-box chosen to add to the wow factor of the cottages. It was already turquoise when we bought it; one of the super-organized people further down sent a paint chart round and everyone got to choose their shade.

‘Need some sleep,’ I mutter.

David reaches over and takes the keys from my hand, opening the door for me.

‘Want us to come in for a while?’ Elle says.

I look from one of them to the other, knowing full well that if I said the word they would. They’d come in, make sure I sleep, make sure I wake up again, make sure I eat, and tempting as it is to let them take care of me, I shake my head. Something shifted inside me when I walked into the pub alone today. Perhaps I was bolstered by my sleep encounter with Freddie, or maybe I discovered a small well of untapped bravery somewhere deep inside, I don’t know. What I do know is that the people who love me have been holding on so tight to my hands that I haven’t yet had to walk alone. But sooner or later, I have to. Today, now, is as good a time to start as any.

‘You two carry on, I’ll call you later,’ I say, giving them both a quick, on-your-way-now hug. ‘I need a glass of water and a lie-down.’

I see Elle open her mouth to argue, but David lays a hand on her arm and speaks instead.

‘Okay,’ he says. ‘Can I suggest a headache pill too?’

I nod, salute, find a smile from the bottom of my boots. ‘Good call.’

I watch them for a few seconds as they strike out towards home, David’s arm around Elle’s shoulders. I hold silent the part of me that wants to call out for them to come back and instead I step inside and close my front door.

Saturday 12 May

‘Lydia?’

You know that kind of sleep you fall into after a bout of daytime drinking, the sleeping at the bottom of the sea kind? I’m fathoms below when I hear Freddie say my name, and it takes all of my concentration to push myself off the bottom, kicking furiously upwards to get to him before he goes away.

‘Jesus, Lyds, you were dead to the world.’ Freddie’s hand is on my shoulder, shaking me lightly. ‘Did you and Elle go shopping?’

I scrabble to sit up straight in the corner of the sofa, rubbing the crick in my neck where I’d slumped over. I can’t gauge what time it is, if I’ve been out for five minutes or five hours. My head is pounding, my heart too, at the sight of Freddie.

‘You’re looking at me weird.’

You would too if you were me, I think but don’t say as I clear my throat.

‘Would you grab me a glass of water?’ I croak.

He frowns and looks at me more closely, then laughs. ‘Have you two been on the wine already? Jeez, Lyds, that’s hardcore even for you.’

‘Here,’ he says, coming back through with a couple of pills as well as the water. ‘Take these.’

I accept them one by one, swallowing them down.

‘You look like an extra from Shaun of the Dead,’ he smiles, smoothing my hair behind my ear. ‘You haven’t been crying, have you?’

I focus on the clock. It’s just after two in the afternoon, I can’t have been asleep for long. I backtrack over the time since Elle and David deposited me on the doorstep; the failed attempt to sleep on the sofa even though my brain ached, the last resort of a pretty pink sleeping pill with alcohol still swilling around in my system.

And then this. I’m wide awake in my sleep again and Freddie is here, taking the piss out of me for drinking too much with Elle. There is very little point in telling him I was drinking with Jonah Jones too and we couldn’t find anything to say to each other, because he won’t believe a word, and why would he? I don’t actually know what I’ve been doing here in this world. Maybe I have been out for a breezy morning shopping and a couple of lunchtime glasses of wine with Elle.

‘Hate to tell you this, Lyds, but you might want to scrape the mascara off your cheeks. Jonah’s coming to watch the game with me in about –’ he breaks