I finally got everything repacked and got back in my car. So, I seemed to have fucked up yet again. When I’d run back to bury my parents all those years ago it had never occurred to me that there might be some other reason for Ollie not being there, I’d just assumed I wasn’t good enough for him, that he didn’t want me. And I’d not trusted him enough to listen, to wait, to give him a chance. I rested my forehead on the steering wheel. Now I’d done it again, I’d gatecrashed his life and when he held out a hand I’d thrown away his trust for a second time, I’d carried on messing around with someone who was just fun, and then I’d let Ollie walk away. Without a word. Shit, shit, shit.
I weighed my phone in my hand, it would probably give out on me any minute, but I had to try.
He answered on the second ring, which threw me and for a second I didn’t know what to say.
“Ollie?” Sure, smart.
“What’s up, Soph?”
“Can we talk?”
His sigh travelled down the line. “We’re talking, what’s up?”
“I didn’t think you’d pick up.”
“But you rang anyway.”
“Can I come over and see you?” My mobile gave a tiny beep and I knew, just knew that the battery was going to die any minute now. “Dane told me about your accident.”
I could almost feel the tension travel down the line. “And what difference does that make?” His voice had that tight edge and he was shutting me out, word by word.
“I don’t want it to be over, not just like that, I want to talk, Ollie. Please.”
“Sophie, I can’t do this shit any more. You’re just messing around, talk to Will you seem to like him.”
“I don’t want to talk to Will, he’s just a friend, and he’s not…”
He’s not you. The silence hung there until my mobile gave another irritated beep. “I need you Ollie.”
“No, Sophie. It isn’t always about you and what you want, sometimes it’s about me.” His voice was low. Resigned and hurt, not angry and ranting which I would have been able to deal with. “Maybe we should just leave things be.” And then he rang off.
Chapter Eleven
“He’s jealous.” Dane grinned and his Adams apple bobbed as he took a gulp of beer. His other hand rested on Holly’s bare knee and they were thigh to thigh with not even a whisper of air between them. I was pleased that they were so happy, but it was strange. Very strange.
Holly gave him a ‘shut up’ nudge. “He wouldn’t talk to you at all?”
“Nope. Said it was better to leave things be.”
“He never could hide what he thought.” The nudge obviously hadn’t worked.
“Bollocks, I never ever saw Ollie jealous of anyone in his life.”
“That’s because he doesn’t often care enough. You ever thought about how he was always playing the idiot bad boy with a troupe of girls following him, but how many did he go out with?”
I thought. I’d seen Ollie with lots of girls and I suppose at first that was part of the attraction, the fact that he singled me out. Gave me attention. So I said so.
“They were chasing him, how many did you see him with more than once?” Dane and I had known each other years, had talked about all kinds of things, but he’d never said this much. Everyone always saw Dane as the deep one and Ollie as the shallow. “What you see is what you get with Ollie, if he’s pissed off then you know about it.” He looked wry. “And if you take his girl you know about it.”
Which made me wonder.
“He’s gone quieter.” He had, he was different in some ways to the old Ollie. Quieter, more measured, more like Dane I suppose. I wasn’t sure he wanted to jump off cliffs anymore, or flatten guys who eyed up his girl.
“We all have to grow up sometime. He’s still the same, just a bit older.”
“And you think I should leave him alone?” I looked at Dane, then over at Holly.
“Maybe you need to give it some time. Just because you think you’ve got him worked out doesn’t mean he knows what happened to you, does it?” Holly was logical, logical and careful. “Look, you didn’t just want some time out to go and find Ollie did you?”
She was right, as always. I’d wanted some time and space to work out what had gone wrong in my life, to face up to all the problems I’d swept under the carpet. “No, I didn’t go looking for him at all.” Well, not consciously. “But you’re right, maybe I need to ease off, finish what I came here for. I don’t blame myself for leaving Mum now.”
Oh no, that had been replaced with blaming myself for walking out on Ollie, not trusting him, and then cocking up again.
“But there’s something else I still need to work out.”
Something, somewhere along the line had gone wrong with Mum and Dad. I’d realised that they had loved each other, and maybe they’d never stopped. But I still couldn’t forgive Dad for doing it, persuading Mum to end it all. And I still hated him for treating her the way he had. He’d changed from a loving man into a drunken, raging loser who’d scared the shit out of me and my sister. “I think I still need to work out why he did it, what went wrong. He was my Dad after all.” I could hear the way my voice tailed off to nothing and I felt like I was a kid again, a little kid who wanted someone to put the world back the right way up.
“Well, do all your working out first. Then you can go back and explain to Ollie, and tell him you’re sorry.”
“You’re a lot bossier than you used to be you know.”
Holly smiled and flicked her long blonde hair back. It seemed a long time ago when we’d been in Uni together, a long time ago since I’d persuaded her to move up to Cheshire and try and forget her shit of an ex-husband, a long time since she’d been a girl who thought she’d never be good enough for anyone.
All of a sudden I knew I had to tell them. To share.
“I want to show you something.” I dug my wallet out of my rucksack and fished into the pocket at the back with fingers that were suddenly too big and clumsy. The folded up piece of paper was getting tatty at the edges, worn along the seams where it had been pressed together for too many years. I’d not unfolded that sheet of paper for years, well not until yesterday that was. When I’d sat in my car after Dane had left me, after Ollie had told me to leave him in peace. And I’d opened it then because I’d needed my Mum, and I’d wanted to know that love was sometimes for all the right reasons.
I carefully spread it out and I was shaking, not just my hands but my whole body and something deeper than that. Some bit inside me that had come to the end of the road. Four eyes were fixed on me as I took a deep breath and tried to slow everything down to a stop. The only other person who’d ever seen this innocent looking scrap of paper was my sister, well my sister and a policewoman who’d pried it from my fingers and put it in a bag, then eventually handed it back over when she’d been told to.
“It’s from Mum.” Okay, the trembling of my vocal chords wasn’t quite as bad as I’d dreaded it would be. “It’s the letter she left me before, before she died.”
It’s weird how certain things can just stop you in your tracks isn’t it? Death has that effect. A kind of holding-your-breath silence and you’re waiting for someone to say it’s okay, let go. We all stared at the sheet of paper rocking in my fingertips. I was coming out of the other side, I knew it. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next in my life, and I was pretty sure I’d have to cope without the man I loved in my life. But I didn’t have to hide my head in the sand anymore, I didn’t want to.
“I think I might get a cat when I get home and be a spinster.”
Dane laughed a deep baritone of pleasure that broke the spell. “You do know cats don’t like to be bossed around?”
“Cat woman.” Holly grinned nervously, still eyeing up the sheet of paper. “Better than being a nun suppose.” She bit her lip anxiously. “Can I read it?”
I wanted to scream no, to hang on. This letter had been tucked away in my soul for so long that it was hard to l
et go. I knew the first bit off by heart, but I’d never got to the end properly, you know not taken it in—I’d just skimmed over the last few paragraphs because I already knew all I needed. But, whilst I’d sat in the car I’d studied every word, every syllable, every hidden message—not just the ones that I’d wanted to be there. I handed it over, let go.
“I think she was trying to tell me something. I thought—” Oh, I’d thought all kinds. “I thought it was kind of awkward because he, Dad had made her write it, but it’s because she wanted to tell me something and she didn’t know how.”
“Are you sure?” Holly’s voice was soft and I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking I was just trying to find something to fill the gaps, to give me the answers I desperately needed.
I took the letter back and traced my finger gently over the words. “When I was with Ollie it made me remember how happy they used to be. You know what? I’d shut out the all good bits and was just remembering the bad, isn’t that weird? I always thought it was supposed to work the other way round.”
“Maybe it was easier to be angry that way?”
I nodded. “And easier to hate him, blame him. But even when things were really bad I’d sometimes catch him looking at her, I was too young to realise what that look meant then, but it was soft and caring and gentle.”
I sighed, he’d been a nice man once, he’d been my Dad, but somewhere along the way he’d been replaced by a monster.
“She’s kind of apologising here, but it’s as though she thinks I should just accept it, like she did. She’s making excuses for him.”
“Maybe it was something she did, something that happened between them. I mean, I know it’s hard to think of your Mum that way but…” Holly gave me a look that was almost guilt, but with that hint of steel that said she had to get it out, for my own good.
“I don’t think so. Mum was a make it happen type of person and she’d have sorted it. It wasn’t just some kind of tiff.” I scanned over the first couple of paragraphs, the ones I knew off by heart, and looked at the bottom of the page.
I love you Sophie, with all my heart, we both do. But, I know you can cope without us, you’ve grown up into a beautiful strong girl and we’re so proud of you. I’m sorry, we don’t want to leave you, but sometimes you just have to do what’s best and I really believe this is best for all of us.
I know you and Meggie will look after each other, I can’t leave Dad, he needs me more than he’s ever needed me. You’ve already started to grow up, started to leave us and find your own life. One day I hope you’ll forgive us. I just want you to be happy, I want us all to be happy. I hope you never have to make a choice like this, choose between leaving your children or leaving the man you promised to spend the rest of your life with. You’ll always be in my heart. Fly the nest and be free Soph, and please don’t hate us. I know you do now, I know we should have talked about this, but we couldn’t talk any more. Things were spiralling out of control and you seemed so happy and it just seemed the right time and the right place.
There was a gap, as though she didn’t know what to write next, and then at the very bottom, in a shaky but bold ink that made me think she’d been pressing hard on the paper to keep the pen steady.
Liz told me to talk to you, but I can’t face you Sophie. I’m a coward, but I don’t want to be talked out of this. Be strong for us, we love you so, so much, we really do. If you can’t forgive us I hope you won’t forget and pray for us, pray that we’ve done the right thing even if it seems so wrong.
I gulped down the blockage in my throat and glanced up into the worried face of Holly.
“It’s okay.” I put my hand on hers. She was a brilliant friend, just like, I think, Liz had been for Mum. We’d been a close family, just the four of us, knitted tight with no real room for anyone else. I can’t remember Mum and Dad ever going out without the other one, no boy’s or girl’s nights out for them. They always said they had each other and they had us. But she talked to Liz sometimes. And I’d never appreciated how important a good friend was until recently, back then I’d been too young—a friend was the person you had a gossip with, the person you swapped clothes with, the person you fell out with when you liked the same boy.
“I need to go and find Liz, and then maybe I’ll understand.”
***
It wasn’t too difficult to find Liz, and she looked just like she had all those years before. Well, maybe a little bit heavier, a shorter haircut. But she still had the same warm smile, the same open face and understanding look deep in those brown eyes.
“Sophie, what a lovely surprise.” And it seemed I hadn’t changed much either. “Is anything wrong?”
It’s bad isn’t it when the first thing people think is that there must be something wrong? But I suppose that’s what happens when you suddenly gatecrash someone you haven’t seen for eight or nine years.
“No.” I grinned, tried to put her at ease, but my stomach was churning with nerves and it must have shown on my face. Or maybe it was the fact that I couldn’t quite stand still and was jiggling about on her doorstep.
“Come in.” She opened the door wider. “Wow, you’ve changed.”
“I grew up, well bits of me did.”
“I can see that.” She gave a dirty chuckle as her gaze skimmed over my body and it made me laugh in response, I mean you don’t expect your parent’s friends to be naughty. You kind of don’t think of them as real people do you? “Come on I’ll make you a drink.”
I sat down in the small kitchen and I was taken back in an instant. Mum and Liz had met when I was at pre-school and they’d stayed friends as their children had grown up. I’d played with her toddler son in the corner of this room, while the adults had sat at the tables with mugs of tea and nattered in low voices.
“So?” She didn’t waste time hedging, she knew I’d turned up for a reason, and I liked that. Direct suited me. Maybe it suited Mum as well.
“You told Mum to talk to me, before…”
“I did.” She took a deep breath, and then stirred her tea slowly. “I lost a good friend when your Mum went. I know it’s probably hard for you to understand why she could leave you, but I tried everything to stop her. I really did.” She glanced back up at me, but she wasn’t seeing me, I think she was probably seeing Mum. “I thought if she talked it through with you then it would change her mind.”
“Which is why she didn’t?”
The corner of her mouth lifted into a wry grin. “She said you’d understand and I guess she was right, like mother like daughter.” She squeezed my hand. “But I wish she hadn’t done it.” She sounded so sad that I instinctively reached out and put my hand over hers. “Love is a funny thing isn’t it?”
I hadn’t expected her to come out with that, so I just nodded and wondered where this was going.
“Your Mum and Dad were mad head over heels in love and I don’t think it ever changed one bit for them, which is why she had to go with him.”
“I don’t understand how she could still love him.” The little voice was mine and Liz linked her fingers through mine. “He hurt her, really hurt her.” And I was thinking about the bruises to her body, not her heart.
“I know.”
I should have come and talked to Liz long ago, but I’d been so wrapped up in hate and anger, in feeling sorry for myself when I should have been asking why.
“He was ill, did you know?”
I shook my head and her face widened with shock. “They should have told you.” She said it half to herself.
“Who?”
“The police, coroner, someone.”
“Maybe they did and I missed it.” I felt the sigh slowly escape from my body and I felt strangely lifted, lighter. “I didn’t take much in, it was all…”
“I know.” She sat up a bit straighter. “Your Dad was ill, he had a brain tumour.”
“But you can fix that can’t you? There was no need to—”
“It was too dangerous to opera
te on. I’m not the right person to give you all the answers, I only know what your Mum told me, but it was why he changed. It was killing him slowly, day by day, and not just in a physical way he could handle. He started off just being ill which he brushed off, he said it was stress at work, but then he started having problems doing things that used to be easy, and he crashed the car.” She paused and I remembered, he was always so careful, but he’d lost control. It had only been a small bump, but we’d been in the car, me and Meg, and he’d been so angry. Angrier than he should have been.
“Then he started to lose his temper, but he just couldn’t help it. He felt like he was losing control of everything. Your Mum eventually persuaded him to go to the Doctor. It was inoperable, Sophie, and he was so scared of what he might do to the two of you and your Mum, he didn’t want to end up hurting you, and he didn’t want you to have to watch him slowly die. They talked about him going away, but your Mum wouldn’t have that, and then he talked about ending it before things got too bad.”
She was staring through me and I could see it hurt.
“You don’t have to tell me anything more.” But I wanted her to, I wanted to know.
“It was so hard for both of them, they were either fighting or making up, but she couldn’t let go. The day you went away he went to pieces. I think it had all got too much. He’d already planned how he could end it for himself and she finally persuaded him that they had to do it together. She thought you would be better off without either of them, she thought she’d be useless on her own because she said she wasn’t whole without him there to hold her hand. So they did it.” Her voice was as empty as her eyes, and then she seemed to snap out of it. “She loved you so much, they both did.”
“I know.”
“It was a glioma, here I’ll write it down and then you can look it up yourself.” She knew I needed to find out everything that I could. I needed to dig and find reasons.
“Don’t hate them, Sophie.” Her eyes held mine and it was a look of sadness and love, and hope.
Good Enough to Trust (Good Enough, Book 2 - Going Back) Page 10
