‘He wouldn’t expect you to pay. At the farm it’s not just living together, it’s… a pulling together I suppose. We share and trade resources. There’s always someone on hand with the necessary skill. You’re never alone.’
Alone. It was just a word but those five letters triggered such an intense longing, my heart ached.
‘But I don’t live there.’
‘That doesn’t matter. You can pay it forward when you can. Help out with growing the veg.’
It was a chance. A possibility. A bright shining star in a dark sky of despair, but although I parted my lips, I couldn’t release the yes that was stuck to the roof of my mouth. Asking for favours was like stripping back the layers until I was vulnerable and exposed. Open to rejection once more.
‘The offer’s there anyway. Look. It’s almost lunchtime, I’d better go. Let you get some rest.’ Saffron stood and smoothed down her top. The words that had poured from me had left my throat and mouth dry. I was more accustomed to the silence that once more filled the room. I pictured Tilly at the cafeteria prising the lid off her Tupperware, and my chest prickled with heat. What had seemed like a good idea at 6.30 this morning, suddenly felt like a horrible mistake. I had a feeling she’d be furious with me after school. Again.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ Saffron said when, lost in thought, I hadn’t made a move to see her out.
But I didn’t have her certainty. All I had were fears and doubts that threatened to sink me entirely.
‘You can’t know that unless you can predict the future.’ But still, I pleaded with my eyes, wanting her words to be a prophesy. A promise.
Fleetingly, I saw something in her indigo gaze that I didn’t understand. I searched her face but couldn’t see anything except kindness and understanding.
‘Laura, I’ve been…’ She glanced at the floor. ‘Low. If it weren’t for Alex I honestly don’t know where I’d be.’ She slipped on her crimson coat and the colour was such a contrast to her stark white outfit it reminded me of another time. Another place. Streaks of blood on virgin white snow.
‘I’ll jot down my mobile number for you.’ She rooted around in her bag. ‘If you change your mind, just ask.’ And, momentarily, that small, square piece of paper she pushed into my hand was strong enough to keep the tide of hopelessness at bay. Enough to pull me to my feet.
In the hallway I tucked the paper into my handbag while Saffron slipped on shoes that were sturdy and dependable and I told myself I could trust her. She opened the door. A frigid wind gusted through the gap. A shiver trailed its fingers down the back of my neck. I know now it wasn’t the icy air that made my hairs stand on end. It was my intuition. That feeling in my gut warned me to stay away from Gorphwysfa.
If only I hadn’t ignored it.
TILLY
Mr Cranford took forever to load me with homework. By the time I got to the canteen the queue for food was long, not that I had to join it since I had my packed lunch. Mum said we couldn’t afford to buy lunch out anymore, like £2.50 would really break the bank.
The spicy pepperoni and melted cheese made my stomach rumble. I was always a fan of pizza day. I slid onto an empty bench, dumping my rucksack at my feet. I scanned the room. Rhianon was at the till paying for her food. Our eyes met. Invisible strands of years of friendship hung between us, frayed and worn. We were so much more than cousins.
I raised my hand. Mouthed, ‘Hi’.
Her hand twitched by her side and I willed her to wave at me. Instead, after glancing to see where Katie was, she offered me a weak smile and a barely discernible nod. I’d only spoken to her once since Dad died. After Mum said the post mortem had been carried out and we were free to bury him.
‘I can’t bear to think of him all cut up,’ I had sobbed down the phone. Rhianon had cried too and, for a moment, we were close again.
Now, I patted the seat next to me in a sit-here gesture. She chewed her lip in that way of hers when she couldn’t decide what to do.
Katie strode in front of her and then they were all walking in my direction. My stomach tightened and, to make myself look busy, I opened my Tupperware and pulled out a sandwich. Too late I realised my mistake.
‘Oh. My. God.’ Katie stopped in her tracks. ‘Tilly!’ She paused for effect, to make sure everyone was looking. ‘Has Mummy cut your sandwiches into hearts? How sweet!’
My body burned with embarrassment. What had Mum been thinking?
‘It’s like you’re seven, not seventeen. No wonder Kieron dumped you.’
Kieron studied his shoes. He used to tell me my eyes were beautiful, but now he couldn’t meet them.
Katie began to sing that old song, ‘Don’t go breaking my heart…’ but trailed off when she realised no one was joining in. Rhianon was staring at the floor, an odd expression on her face, and I wondered if she was remembering the same memory as me. The way her mum and mine used to belt out that song whenever they made dinner together, when everyone got along.
‘Go and take a running jump, Katie,’ I said.
‘Like your dad did?’
All the breath left my body in one sharp release. I tried to not picture Dad broken and bleeding on the floor, but the image had snuck into my mind and was scorched there for evermore.
‘Katie, don’t,’ Rhianon said quietly.
‘You’re sticking up for her?’ Katie raised her perfectly drawn eyebrows.
‘He was my uncle.’
I screwed the sandwich up so tightly in my fist that tuna mayo splattered all over the sleeve of my black top.
‘Aww, never mind.’ Katie said. ‘I’m sure Mummy will wash it for you.’ She sashayed away while I rubbed at the stain with my fingers, but that only made it worse. I watched as Rhianon and Kieron trailed after her, cramming themselves onto an almost-full table on the other side of the hall.
We had learned about a leper colony in Greece in history once, and as I sat alone, surrounded by empty seats, I realised that I wasn’t just a social leper, I was that entire island.
Angrily, I flicked a piece of sweetcorn onto the floor and then felt guilty. Mum tried so hard. I’d been such a bitch to her lately. I wished I could tell her everything. How lonely I was. How afraid. Sometimes I heard her crying in the night. I’d bury my head underneath my pillow. Each day I tried to avoid her. I was frightened that as soon as I started talking to her the truth would just come out. I didn’t want to do or say anything that might ruin Mum’s memory of Dad; she had enough to deal with. I didn’t want her to think badly of me, but I wondered if she did know, would she hate him and miss him less? It was impossible to know what the right thing to do was.
As I thought of the way I’d ignored her goodbye and slammed the car door that morning, I began to panic. She was literally all I had left and I wasn’t sure what I’d do if she turned her back on me too. I balled my hands as I bit down hard on my lip to stop myself crying. I was shrinking the way Alice did when she drank the potion in Wonderland. The rain hammered down on the corrugated roof and the noise of that, and of the chatter and laughter and the clattering of trays, was unbearable.
‘We’re off to see the wizard.’ I filled my head with Mum’s soft voice singing one of our favourite songs.
The pressure released from my lungs, leaving a desire to make up with Mum. I pulled my mobile out of my bag. Straight away it beeped with a message notification from Rhianon.
Take