“Really. There no job back home?”
“I recently left it.”
He smirks again. “So, you’re between jobs.”
“Yep.”
“Sounds expensive to take a few months off.”
I shake my head. “I have plenty of money to keep me going, but thank you for that heartfelt concern.”
Ian looks between me and Greg with amusement in his eyes. He lifts his eyebrow to show whose team he’s on, and I laugh.
Tilly doesn’t miss the look, but I don’t think she gets what it means. Ian knows how I feel about her; she doesn’t.
She puts her drink down and folds her arms. “I thought you were super busy with the house.” Translation: why are you here?
“All work and no play makes Linc a dull boy,” Ian says, slapping my arm with the back of his hand.
Greg snorts, but I ignore it.
“Will you need a lift home?” I ask her. It’s been five minutes, but I’m ready to go.
“I have my car. She’s with me!” Greg spits.
“And you have a beer,” I grit.
Tilly’s eyes snap to Greg. “You’re planning on driving?”
“We’ll get a taxi home. I can come back for my car tomorrow.”
Whose home is he planning on going to?
“I have my car, and I’m not drinking,” I tell her.
“I’ve got this,” Greg snaps.
Sighing sharply, Tilly says, “Stop. Greg, Linc lives next to me. It makes sense that he drives me.”
“You can’t get in a car with him.”
I ball my hands into fists, heat flushing through my body. “Why the fuck not?”
“Don’t, both of you.” She stands up. “I’m ready to leave now, Linc.”
“What the hell, Tilly? You came here to have a drink with me, and you’re leaving with him? Let’s tell them to fuck off and get on with our evening.”
“No, thanks. Neither of you is playing nice, and I don’t much feel like being social anymore. Linc, please take me home.”
I’m on my feet before she finishes the sentence.
“Later, guys,” Ian says, holding his beer up.
He came with me, but he’ll find another way home, so I can take her back on my own.
I give him a nod and make a mental note that I owe him one.
Greg tries to move toward Tilly, but she holds her hand up.
“I’m over the pissing contest already. I’ll talk to you later, Greg.”
I follow Tilly out of the pub. I know I shouldn’t get cocky because she’s probably going to be angry and yell when we get into the car, but fuck, I feel cocky. She wants me to take her home. Who cares if it makes logistical sense?
He’s her friend, but she’s still leaving with me.
Tilly gets in my car the second I unlock it and slams the door so hard, the car moves.
Here we go.
I get in, too, and press the ignition button. She buckles the seat belt and takes a deep breath.
“Tilly—” I start, but she cuts me off pretty quickly.
“What the fuck was that?”
“That was a drink in the pub with—”
“Don’t be cute, Linc; it doesn’t suit you.”
“Ouch.”
She growls, and I clench my stomach muscles and my jaw, so I don’t laugh.
“You were a dick back there!”
“I think I was perfectly pleasant actually. It was Greg who started with the hostility.”
“Because you crashed our …” She frowns.
“Your what, Tilly? Date?” The word tastes foul on my tongue.
“No, not a date.” Closing her eyes, she exhales and slumps back against the seat. “He’s a friend.”
He’d better be. The thought of them together makes me feel violent.
“Does he know that?”
“Don’t start, Linc. It’s none of your business, what’s going on between me and Greg.”
“So, there is something going on between you two?”
“That’s not what I’m saying! The point is, if there were, it wouldn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Why are you still mad at me?”
She folds her arms and looks out the side window, her head facing as far away from me as she can get it. If she’s not careful, she’s going to end up pulling some The Exorcist shit.
“Tilly,” I say on a sigh. My God, she is more up and down than a prostitute. “Tilly, talk to me.”
“Just stop talking because it’s making me more irritated.”
I take off out of the pub car park. Greg runs out the door, but we’re already gone. Tilly’s phone rings the next second.
“That Greg?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Tilly doesn’t reply, but that’s hardly a surprise. She does hang up the phone, ignoring his call. It seems we’re both getting the silent treatment.
I pull down our road five minutes later and stop three houses from hers. “Tilly,” I try again.
“Linc, please, I really need you to give me some space for a while.”
I hold my hands up. “All right.”
“Thank you for the lift,” she whispers and gets out of my car.
I watch her walk away and disappear into her house.
13
Tilly
If Linc’s car didn’t give him away, I would think he had left town already. He’s gotten really good at hiding over the last week. I’ve not seen him at Robbie’s grave either, but I’ve purposefully not gone early in the morning again. I did ask him to give me some space.
Even Greg has been giving me space. He texted me a couple of times, which I replied to, but I haven’t met up with him since the pub. There was no need for all the hostility from either of them. They don’t like each other, and I get that. I’ve hardly helped by complaining about Linc to Greg, but that doesn’t excuse his hostile behaviour.
I’m going to have to speak to them both soon. Linc is still here and will be for the foreseeable future. Personally, I would prefer he didn’t leave town. I think. It seems wrong … or maybe it’s right. All I know is, Robbie would have been happy with Linc visiting his grave. Mum and Dad don’t know, obviously, and there’s no reason to upset them. They were so heartbroken when Linc’s parents asked if they could visit Robbie shortly after he was buried, but I don’t know how much has changed for them.
Some days, it seems like nothing is different, and Robbie’s death is still as raw as the day we got the news.
Mum is in the kitchen, cooking bacon sandwiches—same as she’s done every Saturday for years. It was Robbie’s favourite part of the week and the only time he ate breakfast with us.
I watch her from behind my mug of coffee. She’s a beautiful woman with shiny blonde hair that sits on her shoulders, big blue eyes, and a killer figure. But she’s sad all the time. Her shoulders hold tension, changing her posture completely. She used to be taller. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a child, but I do know my mum battles to get out of bed every day. I suspect she only does it for me.
“Won’t be long, Tilly,” she says, turning the bacon on the pan. Her voice is low and raw, like she spent a lot of time crying last night.
Bacon is the least of my concerns right now.
“Are you okay, Mum?”
She looks over her shoulder and smiles. Although she never looks happy with any smile now, her ones for me are genuine. “Of course, darling.”
“Have you seen him?” I ask.
Not once has she mentioned Linc since the day he arrived back. My parents talk about Robbie all the time but rarely mention Lincoln, Stanley, or their parents. Hell, my parents used to be friendly with Cliff and Martha. They’ve not spoken since Stanley got off with a fine, community service, and three-year driving ban.
Stanley has been allowed behind the wheel of a car for a year now.
Cliff and Martha were elated that he wouldn’t be serving years behind bars. Mum and Dad were devastated.
<
br /> Until his recent return, that was the last time I spoke to Linc, too, and I told him to go to hell.
“No, he’s stayed true to his word and kept his distance, just like he told you.” She turns on her heel, holding the tongs in her hand that she’s using to turn the bacon. “Has he approached you?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“Why doesn’t that sound like the end of the story?”
I put my mug down on the table. “He came into the restaurant, not knowing I worked there.”
“When was this? Are you okay?”
She doesn’t need to know that it was last week or that he walked and drove me home. I’ve kept it all from her.
“Not long ago,” I reply. “I’m fine. He was apologetic and offered to leave, but I can’t force him out every time we accidentally run into each other. I can’t walk around town, constantly looking over my shoulder.”
Mum gives me another smile. “You’re a good girl, Tilly, and so strong.”
“Thanks, Mum,” I say, not really sure if I should accept the compliment or not.
I suppose it depends on how you look at it. I’m strong for my family, making sure they’re okay, but I’m not strong for myself, or I would be in my final year of uni right now, preparing to graduate and start a career.
I think, actually, I’m a bit lost and unable to find a way to get what I want. That was something I used to rock at. I knew what I was doing, where I wanted to go, and what steps I needed to take to get there.
Now, my life is like a game of Snakes and Ladders. Each time I step up, there’s a really big slope, ready to slide my butt straight back down again.
Mum plates up bacon sandwiches.
“Thanks,” I say as my stomach rolls in rejection of the food. I don’t much feel like eating.
I’m constantly on edge, nervous energy taking up residence in my gut and claiming squatter’s rights. Until Linc is gone, until there is no chance of my parents running into him, I don’t think I’ll be able to relax.
“Is there something wrong with the food?” Mum asks when I don’t immediately dive in.
I smile up at her and wince as the heartache she carries around blinds me. I miss Robbie all the time, but I can’t imagine what it’s like for her. She feels it in every cell of her body, every second of the day. Although she would never class herself as a strong person, she is, just by getting out of bed in the morning.
“It’s great as usual, Mum, but I don’t have much of an appetite right now.”
With a deep frown on her forehead, she places her palms on the table beside me. “Are you sure everything is okay, Tilly?”
“I’m fine.”
Linc is eventually going to go home, and then things will get back to normal. Soon, our town won’t be buzzing with gossip of the youngest Reid’s return. I wish I had an end date, so I could cross off the days. Not knowing when I’ll be able to breathe properly again makes me apprehensive, my stomach constantly churning.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?”
Nope. I used to be able to. Mum and I would have long late-night talks about anything and everything. We had such an open relationship, but the second Robbie died, that died, too. She’s too afraid of something being wrong in my life, and I’m too scared to pile more worry onto her shoulders.
“Of course. All is great, Mum. Things are just a bit weird right now, but it’ll settle down.”
“Ah,” she says, lifting her head to the ceiling. When she looks down, her face hardens, lips pursing, and she sits down. “This is about Lincoln.”
“He just brings back a whole heap of memories that I wasn’t prepared for.”
“I understand,” she whispers, her voice weak and clogged with emotion, her eyes glistening with the shine of withheld tears.
This is why I don’t speak to her about things.
“Don’t worry about it, Mum. I’m working through it.” I’ve said too much already. “It’s all good.”
“We can talk about it, if you’d like.”
No, Mum, we can’t.
“That’s okay.” I pick up the sandwich.
“Tilly, are you struggling with Lincoln’s return?”
I stare at the bacon in front of my face. Why couldn’t I just eat you when she first put the plate down?
“Not him exactly. We were friends, and it’s strange, not being friends now.”
“You don’t feel like you could be?”
I shake my head. “There’s too much.”
When I see him, I see my brother. How do I get past that?
“Yes. That’s how your father and I feel, too. Lincoln wasn’t driving the car, but he was there. He walked away, and Robbie is buried in the ground.” She sucks in a breath that sounds like she’s being strangled through. “My son is …”
“Mum, it’s okay,” I say with my heart in my stomach. “Linc will be gone soon.”
We need to stop talking about this!
Sniffing, she blots under her eyes. “He will. Then, things will be better.”
That has been her mantra for the last four years. We just have to get through one thing and then the next, and things will be better. Nothing has gotten better. I don’t really know if my mother has mixed up the definition of better with absolute shit, but she’s lying to herself.
Mum and Dad pushed therapy on me. They even went with me for a short time, but then they soon stopped. Apparently, they felt like they didn’t need it anymore. They need it now more than ever.
I think, if Robbie had been an only child, they would have gone with him. I’m the only thing keeping them on earth, but that doesn’t stop them from half being with Robbie, too.
Then, I suppose none of us are walking around with our hearts in this life. I’ve experienced some of the worst that life has to offer, and my parents lost a child. Why would we be excited for what the future held when I can’t see a good future right now?
“Yeah, things will be better when he’s gone,” I repeat, spinning her the same bullshit she spun me.
Mum stands up and goes back to the pan on the hob, ready to dish up Dad’s food. I lower my sandwich and sigh.
We’re all lying to ourselves here.
14
Linc
Tilly hasn’t spoken to me in almost a week and a half.
I’ve seen her outside, but I’ve not gone out. Not once in the last ten days has she looked over at my house when I’ve seen her, but before that, we had a few conversations. She’s so back and forth, clearly struggling with me being home and unsure of what she wants.
I get it. If she could forget, we could so easily go back to the way things were—to the teasing and the movie marathons and the freedom to be ourselves. A part of me wants to go to the restaurant, so she’ll have to face me, but I can’t bring myself to do anything that could cause her pain.
I love her, and I want to protect her even if that means taking myself out of the equation—for now.
Ian and Jack are over, helping me lay new floorboards downstairs, as the old ones were wrecked by the flood. They might know how Tilly is doing since Hanna and Mel talk to them, but if she hates me, I don’t want to hear it.
Jack taps me on the back. “We going for a beer after this? You owe us for free labour, Linc.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
I’m going to have to get some beer for Jack and Ian.
They’re here every spare minute they have, helping me out and asking for nothing in return. Nothing but alcohol, of course.
“Want to see if the girls will meet us?”
The girls as in Hanna and Mel, or does that include Tilly, too?
“Sure, if you want, man.”
Jack and Ian look at each other, exchanging an inside glance.
I straighten my back, pressing my hand into the aching muscle. Working on my knees is killer. “What?”
“If Hanna and Mel come, they’ll probably invite Tilly,” Jack tells me.
“I figu
red as much,” I reply. I’m hoping as much.
We’ve got to get past this nonverbal, avoiding each other thing. Neither of us can do that indefinitely.
Ian clears his throat. “You’re okay with seeing her again? I couldn’t help but notice things have been frosty recently.”
Frosty? She’s gone full-on Ice Age.
I shake my head. “She can’t decide if she’s okay with me or if she hates me. I think she flits between them. After the pub with Greg, she’s pissed at me, so right now, I’m not coming off so well.”
“You thought about talking to her?” Ian asks.
“I think the fact that she’s ignoring me makes it pretty clear that she doesn’t want to talk at the minute, and I don’t want to push.” Not yet anyway.
Jack throws the hammer he was working with down. “Sometimes, you need to jump though, mate. Go and make her talk to you. Clear the air. I think you’ll both feel better for it.”
God, if we could do that, it would mean everything. If I could just wake up in the morning and know that she didn’t hate me …
But I didn’t bump her car or anything trivial like that. I was involved in an accident that killed her brother. What kind of conversation can you have that would clear the air of that? I’d do it. I’d do anything to make this even a fraction better for her, but I’m clueless.
Through my life, I’ve prided myself on not getting involved in anything messy. I stay out of people’s business and stay away from people who crave drama. I’ve never had to deal with situations that get out of hand or are complex, not like some friends who have dated several people at once or dabbled in things not so legal, so I’ll freely admit that I’m walking blind.
“That won’t work,” I tell them. “I’m just going to give her the space she wants for now and figure the rest out later. I won’t be here for much longer.”
“That doesn’t sound like a good plan, mate. Our trio has been reunited,” Jack says, whacking my chest with the back of his hand.
“Yeah, well, you guys will just have to come and visit me more.”
Ian folds his arms, ready to challenge. “Visit you where? You don’t have a place to live yet.”
“You make it sound like I’ll be on the street. There are plenty of rentals where I was; it won’t take me long to find something.”
After the End Page 8
