Goodbye, Perfect

by Sara Barnard

Valerie:

  Yeah, of course. Mum and Dad sat me down and said, ‘We’re thinking of adopting Eden and Daisy. How would you feel about that?’

  Me:

  What did you say?

  Valerie:

  I said I thought it would be the best thing they’d ever done.

  Me:

  Did you actually, though?

  Valerie:

  Yes! Why is that so hard to believe?

  Me:

  Because I’m a brat.

  Valerie:

  You’re not a brat. You’re just a bit difficult sometimes.

  Me:

  Uh, same thing?

  Valerie:

  I like difficult.

  Me:

  Do you?

  Valerie:

  Yeah. You know I’m a massive nerd. You don’t get that way from liking things to be easy all the time.

  Me:

  That’s true. You are a massive nerd.

  Valerie:

  Well, all the best ones are.

  21

  The journey up to Glasgow is so different from the one we took yesterday that I almost forget why we’re there and what we’re doing. I just want to stay sitting in the front seat of Valerie’s car, snacking on a bag of sugared almonds I found in the glove compartment, laughing and talking about things that matter and things that don’t. I’ve never had fun like this with Valerie. I didn’t know I could have fun like this with Valerie.

  But then we stop for petrol, and Valerie gets out of the car, leaving Connor and me alone. He leans over my seat, his hands on either side of the headrest, to hiss in my ear. ‘We’re nearly there, you know.’

  I shove my fingers into the bag of almonds, but they scrabble around the corners, the bag empty. ‘How far?’

  ‘About half an hour. But that’s just getting to Glasgow. It’s a city. It’s big. Did you get anything more specific about the address?’

  I watch as Valerie finishes filling the car and heads towards the shop to pay. I can see a queue leading up to the till, so I calculate we have at least five minutes before she comes back. ‘Uh, no.’

  Connor makes a noise like he’s unimpressed but also not surprised. ‘OK, well, I found the cat cafe.’

  ‘Yeah?!’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t hard. It’s near-ish the centre of the city and when I Street-View it, I can see a few terraces nearby. I guess we could just knock on every end-of-terrace within a few minutes’ walk?’

  ‘I guess . . .’

  ‘That’s the only option, unless you can narrow it down somehow.’ He waits for me to say something, then sighs, and adds, ‘Did she not mention anything at all about the house?’

  I try to think, watching Valerie near the front of the queue inside the shop. ‘She said the living-room window was boarded up.’

  Connor doesn’t say anything, so I twist in my seat to see his face, which is scrunched. ‘Boarded up?’

  ‘Yeah, I didn’t ask why.’

  ‘Sounds romantic,’ Connor says, rolling his eyes. It’s not like him to be so snide, and I raise my eyebrow at him.

  ‘If we ever run away, we’ll stay in five-star hotels,’ I say.

  ‘With a swimming pool.’

  ‘And a concierge.’ I’m not even sure what a concierge is. ‘And room service.’

  He smiles. ‘A boarded-up window should be pretty obvious, so long as it’s as close to the cat cafe as Bonnie said. We should be able to just see it.’

  ‘OK, well, that’s something.’

  ‘Yeah . . .’ he says slowly. ‘You know what you need to do first, though, right?’

  I watch Valerie walking across the concourse, purse in hand. The last hurdle. ‘Yeah,’ I say.

  Ten minutes later, I still haven’t figured out how to even bring up the subject. My whole body is tense with anxiety and my mouth is dry. There’s not going to be any way around it this time. I have to tell Valerie the truth. And all of the light-heartedness between us, all of the tentative, teasing progress, is going to collapse. I’m no longer sure why I’m doing this, if any of it is going to be worth it, or even what ‘worth it’ means any more.

  But . . . Bonnie.

  Connor keeps giving me a look in the rear-view mirror. An increasingly stressed look. But it’s all right for him, sitting in the back seat, far away from the danger zone. I’m going to be the one who gets bludgeoned.

  ‘Hey, Valerie?’ I say, aiming for casual, and missing.

  Connor’s eyes go wide. Valerie glances at me. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Can we stop and get lunch?’ I ask.

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m pretty hungry, and it’s almost one. Can we stop at a cafe or something?’

  ‘Don’t you want to just wait until we get into the centre?’ Valerie says. ‘We’re not that far now.’

  ‘It’ll be really busy in the centre,’ I hear myself say. ‘And . . . um . . . more expensive.’

  There’s a pause. ‘OK,’ Valerie says finally. For a second, I think I see her roll her eyes. ‘If that’s what you want.’

  ‘Can we get McDonald’s?’ Connor asks.

  ‘No!’ Valerie says, and this time she definitely rolls her eyes. ‘I draw the line at McDonald’s.’

  ‘Valerie can choose the place,’ I say to Connor. ‘That’s fair.’

  ‘Well, thank you, Eden,’ Valerie says. ‘That’s so generous of you.’

  ‘Scotland really brings out the sarcasm in you,’ I say.

  ‘Sure, that’s what it is,’ she says. ‘Scotland.’

  We end up in a cafe on the way into the city. She orders stovies for all three of us, which turns out to be a kind of meat and potato stew, and then tells us a story I don’t really listen to about her first week at university, when her flat had a party and she walked into her room to find a couple of strangers having sex on her bed. Usually this kind of story would hold my interest, but my stomach is so tight it’s distracting. There’s no more time for excuses. I have to do this now.

  ‘So,’ she says after two more stories I also don’t listen to, ‘what shall we do when we get into the centre? Is there somewhere we could start looking for Bonnie and Mr Cohn?’

  And here we go.

  ‘Um,’ I say.

  There’s a long silence. Connor coughs. Valerie digs her straw into the ice in her glass of Diet Coke.

  ‘I have to tell you something,’ I blurt.

  Valerie lifts her eyes to mine. ‘Go on.’

  My heart is hammering. ‘I actually know where they are.’

  Valerie’s expression doesn’t even change. ‘Right. I have something to tell you, too.’ She waits for barely a beat before saying, ‘I know you do. And so does everyone else.’

  All the air leaves my body in one big gasp of shock. ‘What?’

  ‘The police have been tracking us since we left Kent,’ she says. Her face is still set, her eyes never leaving mine. ‘There’s an unmarked police car that’s been following us the whole time.’

  ‘What?’ I say again. ‘How . . . What?’

  ‘There’s a tracking device on my car.’

  ‘Valerie.’

  ‘They’re trailing us about ten miles behind.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  But I do.

  ‘They’re letting you lead them right to Bonnie and Jack Cohn,’ she says, spelling it out.

  There are so many questions to ask at this point, but what comes out is, ‘When did anyone put a tracking device on your car?’

  ‘Before we left home. Remember I told you I was going to the library?’

  I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know what to think.

  ‘So this was all you selling me out.’ My voice, when it comes, is flat. ‘You betrayed me.’

  ‘No, Eeds. I’m protecting you. You and Bonnie. The police wanted to force it out of you, you know. They’ve suspected that you’ve known where she is ever since she first left. And when you suddenly wanted to go off to York – somewhere you’d nev
er shown any interest in; you thought we didn’t notice? – they wanted to bring you to the station, try and scare you until you told them the truth. I was the one who said I’d take you to York and go wherever else you wanted to go, and they could keep tabs on us from a distance, instead of them pulling any of that shit on you.’

  ‘But you lied to me.’

  ‘And you lied to me,’ Valerie replies, her voice firm. ‘And you did it because you felt like you had to, just like me. Eden, it was either this or nothing. You’d still be at home in Larking, except with added police pressure, and no one would be any closer to getting Bonnie home safe.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me from the start?’

  She half laughs, but it’s humourless. ‘Really? Why didn’t you tell me from the start?’

  I don’t have an answer to this.

  ‘You know, this is so stupid, but there was a part of me that was really hoping you actually didn’t know. That you weren’t lying to me.’ She lets out a sigh, running her fingers through her hair. ‘God, but of course you were. You’re not even good at it.’

  I’m still too shocked to be offended. (Besides, it’s true.) I look at Connor, who is slumped in his seat, shredding a napkin into tiny pieces, not looking at either of us. I think about the last twenty-four hours all three of us have spent together, running it through this new filter of truth.

  ‘Was that why you got the wine?’ I ask, my voice coming out a little shrill. ‘Were you trying to get me drunk so I’d spill?’

  For a moment Valerie just looks at me, bewildered. And then she laughs. ‘No, Eden. The wine was for me.’

  Well, I guess that’s something. Not a lot of something, but something. She’s been lying to me, but she hasn’t actually tricked me, not like I tried to do to her. Who is in the right here? Or are we both wrong? And what does it actually matter now we’re here?

  ‘So what happens now?’ I ask.

  There’s a silence. Valerie picks up her fork and twirls it between her fingers. ‘I don’t know,’ she says.

  ‘I think we should go and see Bonnie,’ Connor says. It’s the first time he’s spoken since we sat down, and both Valerie and I turn in surprise at the sound of his voice. ‘That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Whether the police are following or not.’

  ‘But they are following us,’ I say. ‘As soon as they see the house, they’ll just come in and arrest Mr Cohn. I won’t get a chance to talk to Bonnie.’ I sit back, my throat suddenly tight, shaking my head. It’s over. I failed.

  ‘Do you really think you could convince her?’ Valerie asks.

  ‘I just want a chance,’ I say. I want to explain to her, face to face, the mess she’s caused. To show her I’ve come all this way, that this is how much I care. I don’t just want her to come home. I want her to want to come home.

  ‘Well,’ Valerie says slowly. ‘They’re following the car. They’re not following us.’

  I look across the table at her, and her eyes meet mine.

  ‘How specific is your information?’ she asks. ‘Do you have an address?’

  I nod, cautious, not quite letting myself hope. ‘Connor found it,’ I say.

  She turns to him. ‘How far away is it?’

  Connor fumbles with his phone and I wait, holding my breath tight inside. ‘Google Maps says a half-hour walk,’ he says. ‘From here, I mean.’

  ‘If we leave the car here,’ Valerie says, ‘they wouldn’t know where we’d gone. We could go and see Bonnie, just us. No police.’

  ‘No police,’ I repeat. My voice is a little shaky. ‘But . . . what about after?’

  ‘Well, we’d have to talk to the police after,’ she allows. ‘But if you talk to Bonnie first . . . if you get through to her, it won’t matter.’

  ‘What if I can’t?’

  ‘If you can’t, you might realize you want the police to catch up with them.’

  That doesn’t sound likely, but I nod anyway, because there’s no way I’m risking this fragile understanding. The answer seems to be that failing to convince Bonnie is not an option, and didn’t I know that already?

  ‘Are you going to get in trouble for this?’ I ask.

  One side of Valerie’s mouth lifts into a smile. ‘Nah,’ she says. ‘Everyone has to choose a side eventually.’

  I’m not sure exactly what she means, but I don’t ask.

  ‘So . . .’ Connor says. ‘We could leave the car here and walk there?’

  Valerie looks at me. ‘If that’s what you want,’ she says, ‘that’s what we’ll do. It’s up to you.’

  There’s only one possible answer to this. ‘Let’s go,’ I say.

  22

  We don’t talk much for the next half an hour. Connor walks slightly ahead, his eyes on his phone, leading the way. Valerie and I walk side by side without speaking, not because there’s nothing to say, but because there’s too much. She walks with her hands in her pockets, shoulders back, just like she always has, but she somehow looks so different to me. I should feel like I know her better now, but I don’t, not really. I look past her to Connor, so focused, an unlikely leader. In all of this confusion and change, he is just the same. Thank God.

  And in the midst of thoughts like these, I get sharp shocks of Why the hell are you thinking about this when you’re about to see Bonnie? that jolt and confuse me so much I almost trip. Everything feels upside down. My priorities have warped.

  ‘Does she know you’re coming?’ Valerie asks.

  I shake my head. ‘I thought it was better not to give them a chance to leave.’

  She nods. ‘Smart.’

  And then we’re silent for another ten minutes.

  ‘Is Carolyn angry with me?’ I ask.

  ‘No,’ Valerie says without even hesitating. ‘She’s just worried about you. That’s all.’

  And silence falls again.

  I’m letting Connor lead us without paying much attention to our route or how long everything is taking, so it’s a surprise when we reach the cat cafe. The House of the Cat Kings. The logo features a black-and-white cat wearing a crown, a sceptre tucked between its paws.

  ‘Cute,’ Valerie says.

  It’s open; I can see people milling inside, surrounded by cats. Maybe when we’re done, and Bonnie’s with us, we can go in for a bit, I think. I have a sudden, vivid image of the four of us sitting on the sofa I can see through the window, laughing, taking a selfie or five with the cat that looks like a tiger.

  ‘This means we’re near where they’re staying,’ I say. ‘It’s an end-of-terrace. Look for a boarded-up window.’

  Connor is already a few metres ahead of us, jogging from one end of each terrace to the other. I watch him, rather than join in the search, my hands suddenly clammy.

  ‘Do you have an address?’ Valerie asks, but before I can reply, Connor puts his hand up and waves, pointing at a house.

  My heart gives a sudden, painful clench. Oh God. I’m not ready for this.

  Valerie and I walk across the street to join him, and I know immediately that he’s right. The boarded-up window is unmistakable, even if nothing else about the house is. There are steps leading to the front door and a small, dirty-looking wind chime hanging beside it.

  ‘So, is this it?’ Valerie prompts.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ I say.

  ‘Go on then,’ she says. ‘Knock.’

  ‘I need a sec,’ I say.

  ‘You don’t have a sec,’ Valerie says bluntly. ‘The sooner we get in there, the less likely it is anyone in uniform is going to catch up with us.’

  When I still don’t move, she puts her hand between my shoulder blades and physically pushes me towards the doorsteps so hard, it’s either go up them or fall on my face. I stumble, right myself, and then hammer on the door before I can second-guess myself.

  My head is going Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God.

  No answer.

  I knock again.

  Silence.

  I glance back at Connor and Valerie, who bot
h shrug at me. Now my head is screaming Oh God oh God oh God because – OH GOD – what if they’re not here? What if they’ve left? Why didn’t that possibility even cross my mind? All the way across the length of the goddamn country, and not once did I think, Hey, Bonnie might move on without even mentioning it.

  My hands are cold. I feel a movement beside me, and it’s Connor, bounding up the steps and pressing his face up to the window by the door.

  ‘Seems kind of . . . quiet,’ he says.

  This can’t happen. I can’t have dragged Connor – let alone Valerie – over hundreds of miles for an empty house. Bonnie can’t have left without telling me. She wouldn’t do that.

  Would she?

  ‘When did you last talk to her?’ Connor asks me.

  I barely hear him. Maybe she knows. Maybe she guessed, somehow, that I was on my way. Maybe the fact that I didn’t message her for so long made her suspicious. Maybe she told Mr Cohn that I knew where she was, and he made her cut off all contact with me and leave. Maybe this was all for nothing.

  ‘Eden?’

  We’re going to have to turn around and go back home, Bonnieless. And this time there’ll be no hiding what I know, or knew. I’ll have to face everyone’s disappointment and judgement, and I won’t even have Bonnie to show for it.

  ‘Eden?’ This time it’s Valerie, cautious but gentle.

  The house is empty. I know it is. I feel a hand on my arm, someone guiding me away from the door and easing me down into a sitting position on the top step.

  ‘It’s OK.’ Valerie’s soft voice. ‘Take a second. It’s OK.’

  ‘Maybe they’re just out,’ Connor says. He sounds worried. ‘They might just be out, right?’

  Tears are streaming down my face. My nose feels all bunged up. I am clutching my knees with my fingertips, trying not to actually sob or wail or do anything even more embarrassing than what I’m doing right now. This is all very un-Eden-like behaviour. I’m not meant to be a crier. But I’m crying now.

  ‘They’re not here,’ I manage. I wipe my nose with my sleeve, which makes precisely zero difference.

  ‘It doesn’t look like it, no,’ Valerie says.