After I've Gone

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After I've Gone Page 10

by Linda Green


  ‘So, where do you live, Jess?’

  ‘In Mytholmroyd, near Hebden Bridge, with my dad.’

  ‘He hasn’t found anyone new, then?’

  She shakes her head. ‘No, too devoted to Mum. I don’t think there’ll ever be anyone else.’

  ‘You must be very close.’

  ‘Yeah. I guess we are.’

  It’s good, of course, being close to your family. Just as long as she’s not so close she won’t leave him.

  ‘I bet he’d miss you if you weren’t around.’

  She drops her fork on the plate with a clatter. She glances up, a slight frown on her forehead. I don’t understand what I’ve said. Maybe she’s got the wrong end of the stick.

  ‘I mean, it will be difficult for him, when you move on. Have your own family and that. Men find it hard coping on their own sometimes.’

  She opens her mouth but doesn’t say anything. Lee is giving me a look.

  ‘Jess’s dad is a chef,’ he says.

  ‘Oh, well that will be a big help then. A lot of men can’t cope with the cooking, you see. Not used to all those domestic duties, but it sounds like he’ll be fine.’

  She has her head down now, her hair hanging over one side of her face.

  ‘Anyway,’ says Lee. ‘Jess might not be working at the cinema for much longer. We’re interviewing at work on Wednesday.’

  ‘Oh, what for?’

  ‘The receptionist job. It’s maternity leave cover for Beth but we’re pretty sure she won’t be coming back.’

  ‘That’s great,’ I say, unable to keep the relief from my voice. I thought for a moment he was going to say she wanted to go into PR. That she was one of these career girls. A receptionist’s job is different. It’s something you do before you have a family. Not something to prevent you having one.

  ‘That would be lovely, you two working together, wouldn’t it?’ I say, turning to Jess. It is only then that I notice her face. She is staring at Lee.

  ‘I haven’t actually agreed to be interviewed,’ she says, her voice firmer than I’ve heard it since she arrived.

  ‘But you know you will,’ Lee says. ‘You’re just playing hard to get.’ He is teasing her; I can see that by the expression on his face. I’m not sure she appreciates it, though. She turns and sees me looking at her, fidgets a bit in her seat.

  ‘It doesn’t really sound like my thing,’ she says.

  ‘And I’ve told her she’d be great at it,’ counters Lee. ‘She would, wouldn’t she, Mum?’

  ‘Now don’t get me involved,’ I say, holding my hands up.

  ‘It makes perfect sense,’ says Lee. ‘An end to all those late shifts at work.’

  ‘Oh, I hadn’t thought about that,’ I say. ‘Do you have to work a lot of lates then?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘Last night was my only night off for the next fortnight.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ I say. ‘That’s not much fun, is it?’

  ‘Not for her or me,’ says Lee. ‘I’m having to book a month in advance to see my own girlfriend.’

  Jess sighs and looks up. ‘Look, I’ll think about it,’ she says. ‘But I’m not making any promises.’

  ‘There you go,’ says Lee. ‘I knew you’d come around.’

  I see Lee take her hand under the table.

  ‘Well, good luck if you do go for it, Jess,’ I say. ‘Not that you’ll need it. Sounds perfect for you. Now, can I get anyone some more roasties?’

  *

  Lee helps me load the dishwasher after lunch. I’ve told Jess to go and make herself at home in the living room.

  ‘She’s lovely,’ I say as I hand him a plate.

  ‘I know,’ he replies.

  ‘Look after her, won’t you.’

  He looks up sharply. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I see the flash of anger in his eyes. Still, it takes me by surprise sometimes, seeing my past reflected back at me like that. I feel my shoulders tense. I have to remind myself that it is my son I’m talking to.

  ‘Nothing. I just want you to be happy. She’s got spirit, this one. You mustn’t push her too hard, you know.’

  ‘I do know how to treat my girlfriend,’ he says.

  ‘Good,’ I reply, before passing him another plate.

  *

  They stay for about an hour after lunch. Lee says he is going to run her home, to save her waiting around for a train on a Sunday.

  I kiss her on the cheek as she leaves. ‘It’s been lovely meeting you, Jess. And remember, you’re booked in for Sunday lunch from now on.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she says. ‘I think that will keep me going all week.’

  ‘I’ll remind you of that tomorrow,’ says Lee. ‘When you’re queuing for a blueberry muffin.’ She pulls a face at him. I like that they are playful like this. It’s good to be able to have a bit of banter. Simon and I never had that. Not that I can remember, anyway.

  When they have gone, I go upstairs, pull out the drawer under the bed and take out Lee’s christening robe once more. I do my usual thing of chasing away the darker memories it brings back in order to concentrate on the happy ones. I don’t think it will be too long before I’ll see it worn again. And some new happy memories will be created, which might just bury the bad ones for good.

  PRIVATE MESSAGE

  Sadie Ward

  31/07/2017 11:46am

  Jess, I’m messaging you privately because I can’t put this on your timeline. I know it’s stupid, what with you being dead and that, but I want you to know something and at least this way it feels like I have told you.

  I remembered your letter. I’d put it away somewhere safe and almost forgotten it. I read it with tears streaming down my face. It is so like you to think of others before yourself.

  That is why I have decided to go to the police. Because I know now for sure what happened to you. I suspected it wasn’t an accident but I didn’t have any proof. Now I have your letter, they will have to listen to me. So I am going to tell them tomorrow, the day before your funeral. And if they don’t listen I’m going to shout louder until they do. I am fighting for you, Jess. I know it’s too late to save you but it’s not too late for H. Some people won’t like it and there will probably be a massive fall-out, but I will make sure the truth comes out.

  I still can’t bear the thought of them burying you. The only thing that keeps me going is the thought that at least you are safe now. That where you are, no one can ever hurt you again. I love you and miss you so much x

  Jess

  Monday, 1 February 2016

  I have no idea what Sadie is talking about. No idea at all. How can it not be an accident? Is she saying someone killed me deliberately? Murdered me, even? Surely the police would have been involved already. No one has mentioned the police. If there was anything suspicious, people would have been talking about it on Facebook. And Dad said the coroner had finished his investigation. They wouldn’t let me be buried if there had been anything dodgy about it.

  I don’t understand how a letter from me can change anything. I have no idea what letter she is talking about. Did something happen before I died that I didn’t tell anyone about? And how she can say she knows what happened. Was she there? Perhaps she was a witness. But if she was, the police would have talked to her already, so it doesn’t make any sense.

  Maybe she feels so bad about not believing the Facebook stuff that she needs to blame someone else for my death. Though that doesn’t sound like Sadie at all – at least not the Sadie I know. The trouble is, it’s going to kick off a whole load of crap. That will be the last thing Dad wants. And Lee, for that matter. Presumably my father and husband would not stand by and let me be buried if there was the slightest doubt about what happened. And now Sadie is going to say something and make a big fuss and it’s going to hurt them even more. Fucking hell. Dad’s o
nly just about coping as it is. This could push him over the edge. I wish Sadie would just accept it and let me go. Let them bury me and do their grieving and get on with their lives. Not have some massive scene just before the funeral.

  I stand up and run my fingers through my hair. Move away from the laptop! I hear a voice inside shouting at me. I know I should stop reading this stuff, but it’s like finding your biography before you’ve even lived your life. I need to know how it’s going to end. Not just for me, but for Harrison.

  I go back to the laptop and scroll to the photo of Harrison. I am desperate for a new one. I want to see how he is growing. Dad says Lee is looking after him with Angela’s help. She was OK, Angela, but there was something a bit weird about her. And I’m damn sure I don’t want her bringing up my son. I can see she’s close to Lee but I can’t imagine her being much fun. That was the great thing about Mum – she could be firm when she wanted to but she was always great fun.

  I allow my fingers to brush Harrison’s cheek. I want to touch them for real. I want to be his mum, watch him grow up. Protect him from all the crap out there in the world. I’m going to have to try to change things. Just because I believe the beginning of this story, it doesn’t mean I have to accept the ending.

  I get my things together, stuff them into my backpack and go downstairs, deciding I should at least show my face before I leave for work. Dad looks up as I enter the kitchen. He didn’t say much when I got in last night. To be fair, I didn’t say much either. I pretty much went straight to my room in order to avoid a confrontation. I’d hoped it would feel less awkward this morning, but it doesn’t.

  ‘Morning,’ he says, before glancing at his watch. ‘Well, just. Good weekend, I take it?’

  ‘Yeah, it was.’

  He pushes a mug of tea on the table towards me as I sit down.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Nice place he’s got, is it?’

  ‘Yeah, well swish apartment. Great view of Leeds too.’

  He nods. He clearly knows what I got up to in the apartment, but he at least has the decency not to mention it, or give me some big lecture.

  ‘What about the awards do, was it good?’

  ‘Yeah. His firm won. Posh hotel, good grub. Chatted to the Lord Mayor, it was well good.’

  He takes a sip of his tea.

  ‘So where did you go yesterday?’

  ‘To his mum’s. She’s in Leeds too. Well, Horsforth.’

  ‘Is she nice?’

  ‘She’s fine, friendly and that. Does a mean Yorkshire pudding.’

  ‘But?’ He looks up as he says it. I guess he has picked up on something in my voice.

  I shrug. ‘She’s not a patch on Mum.’

  He nods slowly. ‘No one is, love. That’s the trouble. What about his dad?’

  ‘They split up years back. I don’t think he sees him anymore.’

  ‘And did you find out how old he is? Lee, I mean.’

  I sigh. I hadn’t told him after the first date but I realise I’ve got to at some point.

  ‘He’s thirty-two. He looks younger than that, though.’

  ‘Jesus, Jess.’

  ‘What does it matter?’

  ‘It matters if you’ve got a twenty-two-year-old daughter to worry about.’

  ‘Why? It means he’s more mature than the other guys I’ve been out with. I’d have thought that would be a good thing.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I guess I’ve got a different way of looking at it.’

  I know what this is about. It’s about sex. He doesn’t want to think of a man in his thirties taking advantage of his little girl. Although he’s never going to admit that, of course.

  ‘For your information, he’s a lot more responsible than anyone else I’ve been out with too.’

  Dad sighs and looks up at the ceiling. I suspect he knows full well what I am getting at.

  ‘Well, what’s he doing still being single at thirty-two?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll ask him next time, shall I? Or I can bring him in and you can ask him yourself.’

  ‘You could have brought him in when he dropped you off last night.’

  ‘I know. And I’m glad I didn’t now, if this is what he would have had to put up with.’

  We sit in silence for a bit. I drink my tea, more to prevent the need to talk than anything. The truth is, I didn’t invite Lee in because I didn’t want him to see this place. It was bad enough just driving through Mytholmroyd without having to do the whole ‘come in and see the tiny terraced hovel I live in’ thing. The guy is used to swanky apartment living; if he comes here he will see that I don’t belong in his world.

  ‘I’m only trying to look out for you, Jess.’

  ‘Are you? Or are you trying to keep me as your little girl forever?’

  I stand up and head for the door. Dad glances at the clock. My train isn’t for another fifteen minutes. Dad knows that but he chooses not to say anything.

  *

  There’s no sign of Sadie on the platform when I arrive. It’s unusual for me to be so early. I guess I am officially between awkward conversations. Though I suspect the one with Dad will seem like a breeze compared to the one I am about to have with Sadie. She did text me back on Sunday but only to say ‘OK’. She could have said something to make me feel better and she chose not to.

  I catch sight of her coming over the footbridge. I can tell by the way she is walking that she is still pissed off with me. Even her leather jacket appears to be bristling.

  ‘Hi,’ I say, when she gets to me. ‘How was the party?’

  ‘Yeah. Good.’

  ‘I’m really sorry I didn’t make it.’

  ‘Are you?’

  ‘Of course I am.’

  She nods and we stand in silence for a bit. Sadie shuffles her feet. She has never been very good at being mad at me for long.

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t be,’ she says.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘If I’d had the choice between a hot guy offering to shag me senseless and going to some kid’s tinpot birthday party in Mytholmroyd, I don’t think I’d be sorry I missed it at all.’

  I allow myself a hint of a smile, watching her closely in case it is not the right thing to do.

  ‘Actually,’ I say. ‘He’d already shagged me before we even got there.’

  Her mouth drops open and she grabs my jacket. ‘You complete slag.’

  ‘I thought I was going home afterwards, didn’t I? I was hardly going to say no.’ I am smiling properly as I say it. More in relief that she’s being so cool about it than anything else.

  ‘I bet you did it again later though, didn’t you?’

  ‘Might have,’ I reply, trying not to laugh.

  ‘Got cystitis yet?’

  ‘Shut up,’ I say, trying to pull her away from the other two people who have arrived on the platform.

  ‘Well, you will do soon if you carry on like that. You’re not used to it, girl.’

  ‘I think I could get used to it.’

  ‘That good, was he?’

  ‘I’m not complaining. I am sorry, though. About not turning up, I mean. I hope Maddie didn’t mind.’

  ‘She was off her face by ten thirty.’

  ‘Lee said she would be.’

  Sadie turns to look at me, her brow furrowed slightly. ‘What do you mean?’

  I realise too late that I have put my foot in it. ‘I was feeling really bad about not being able to come, that’s all. He was trying to make me feel better.’

  ‘Right.’ She doesn’t sound convinced. ‘Did you stay all yesterday as well?’

  ‘Yeah. We went to his mum’s for lunch then back to his place for a bit.’

  ‘It’s a bit soon to be meeting the parents, isn’t it?’

  ‘He always goes to her
s for Sunday lunch. It was no big deal.’

  Sadie raises her eyebrows. ‘Sounds pretty serious to me. Are you sure you weren’t there for official approval?’

  ‘No. It wasn’t like that at all.’

  ‘Remind me of that when she’s your mother-in-law.’

  I stare at her. She can’t know, of course, what she has just said. But it still turns me cold inside. I walk a couple of steps away, hoping she won’t be able to see my face. She knows me too well to get away with that, though.

  ‘Hey, I was only joshing.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Is she that bad?’

  ‘No. A bit weird and in your face, but nothing I can’t handle.’

  ‘So what’s the problem?’

  I look up at the sky. I want to tell her everything so badly, but I also know that the more I say, the worse it will be for her when I die. I can’t do that to her.

  ‘Anything to do with what might happen in the future, it reminds me of all that stuff on Facebook, that’s all.’

  ‘I thought you said that had stopped?’

  ‘Yeah, it has. It freaked me out a bit, that’s all.’

  There is a pause.

  ‘You are OK, aren’t you?’ asks Sadie quietly.

  ‘Yeah. I’m fine.’

  ‘Good. You had me worried for a bit there.’

  I feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. She’s always been so bloody good to me. She was the only one who understood, or at least tried to understand, what I was going through. And now I’m going to saddle her with all this guilt. I have to try to make her forget it, or at least convince her that I didn’t believe it either.

  The train pulls slowly into the station. I turn to face Sadie as we wait for the doors to open. ‘Can you forget I ever said anything about it? It’s just, I feel a bit stupid about it all. A lot stupid, actually. I was being a total idiot.’

  ‘Sure,’ she says.

  ‘Thanks,’ I reply, hoping she will remember this conversation one day in the future. And that it might help her not to be so hard on herself.

  *

  The new rota for the next fortnight is up in the staffroom at work. I’m down to work both weekends and until ten thirty every night apart from tomorrow and Monday and Tuesday next week when I’m off.

 

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