The Two Lives of Lydia Bird - Josie Silver Page 0,33
sure that life would last for ever. I can almost see us, hear the echo of our footsteps and our laughter.
‘None of this really matters,’ he says. ‘It doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone.’
‘But it does matter,’ I say, fired up by Jonah’s ignorance of my feelings. ‘It matters to me. You let me think he died because of the weather and somehow that dull, everyday reason made some kind of stupid sense.’ I cast around, trying to understand and articulate my feelings in real time. ‘And now you tell me he’d still be here if he’d just been more careful, and that he was speeding?’ I break off, anguished. ‘Don’t you dare tell me it doesn’t matter, Jonah Jones. He should have just come straight home. None of this would have happened if he’d just come straight back.’
‘Don’t you think I know that?’ he whispers. ‘Don’t you think it’s the first thing I think every single bloody day?’
We stare at each other. Jonah bites his lip to stop it shaking.
‘I never wanted you to know all this,’ he says, gaunt, drawing my eyes to his scar as he scrubs his hand over his forehead. ‘You were late … I didn’t think you were coming.’
‘I wish I hadn’t,’ I say.
‘Me too,’ he says, his hands clasped together in a knot in front of him.
A hush falls around the table. I think it’s time for me to leave.
‘My son died a year ago.’ Maud stares at the ceiling. ‘Hadn’t spoken to me for thirty-six years. All over something and nothing.’
I don’t reply, but her words make it into my head anyway. Thirty-six years. They were both alive, and yet they allowed something trivial to push them far enough apart that they never spoke again.
‘That’s very sad, Maud.’ Camilla reaches out and pats Maud’s forearm.
Maud sets her lips in a thin line, all out of pithy comebacks. I don’t think she came here today to talk about her errant husband at all. I’m not sure if she offered the information about her son to help me, but she has, sort of, because I know that if I get up and walk out of here now I might not see Jonah Jones again for thirty-six years, or ever again.
We sit rigid, side by side in the silence.
‘I should have told you sooner,’ he says eventually, his gaze on his feet.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘But I get why you didn’t.’
I meet Camilla’s tearful gaze across the table and she nods, quiet support that I appreciate. It takes a great deal for me to lay my hand over his, and it takes a great deal for him to not crumble.
‘That cake could do with some butter on,’ Maud says. ‘Is there any left?’
Nell pushes the tin across the table. ‘Take it, it won’t get eaten at my house.’
I dash my hand over my eyes, brisk, and stand up. ‘I should get going,’ I say, looking around the table. ‘It was nice to meet you all.’
Jonah looks up at me. ‘I’ll see you soon?’ he says.
‘Yes,’ I say, even though I most probably won’t. I can’t say I’m glad I came because it isn’t strictly true, but it’s been cathartic for both of us to be so painfully honest. I hold it together until I reach my car and then I fall into the driver’s seat with my head in my hands. I probably shouldn’t drive, but I want to go home. I want to be with Freddie.
Sunday 3 June
We’re in the hospital car park. Freddie is carrying Elle. She’s wearing one shoe, and I have the other in my hand as I walk briskly beside them.
‘I think it’s broken,’ Elle says, her face contorting with pain when she tries to move her ankle. She tumbled top to bottom on our stairs half an hour back, scaring the hell out of me and Freddie. It’s strange seeing her in this abstract world too. I’d got used to it being just me and Freddie, but it seems like everyone else’s lives are ticking along here as well. And in this world, today, Freddie is exactly how I want to remember him. In control and very much alive.
‘Probably,’ he says. ‘Good job you’ve got me to carry you around.’
‘It’s a bit like that scene from An Officer and a Gentleman,’ I say, trying not to laugh.
Freddie looks pleased by the idea. ‘Except I’m better looking than Richard Gere.’
‘You’d definitely look good in the uniform,’ I say.