“I don’t really know what to do with her, bro. One minute, she’s cold as ice, and the next, she’s looking at me the way she used to, like she still sees her friend.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “It’ll always be weird, talking about your sister with you.”
I’m sure he knows everything that is happening now. I’m not a great believer in the afterlife, but I can’t believe that nothing happens when we die. I wouldn’t talk to Robbie if I didn’t think he was somewhere, watching and listening.
“Last night, when I arrived at the pub, she barely said two words to me, and then she left. I followed her to tell her to go back in with her friends and that I’d go. She pulled a one-eighty and asked me to walk her home. It seems she has more mood swings now, hey?”
Tilly has always been cool. While other girls we hung around with were more worried about breaking nails, Tilly would get stuck in whatever we were doing. She would be the one drinking cheap beer rather than cheap wine.
“I think that maybe she’ll let me in again. In the few times we’ve spoken since I’ve been back, she gets to a point where she forgets herself, and things are normal for a moment.”
I tap the stone below his name with my knuckles. “It’s a start, right? And I can’t deny that it’s fun to watch her remember that she’s supposed to be mad at me.”
Frowning, I kick one leg over the other. “I mean, it’s fun until she gets really irritated with me. I wish she didn’t carry around so much sadness. I can see it in her eyes. It used to drive your mum crazy, how laid-back she was. She was always so carefree.”
Why has everyone around her let her stop?
She’s morphed into this angry version of the seventeen-year-old her. Now, she’s twenty-one, and her life has been passing her by for the last four years.
How can her parents not see it?
“Do you worry about her, too? I knew she wouldn’t be the exact same girl as before. None of us—me, my parents, or Stanley—came out of that the same, but we’ve all moved somewhat forward.”
I can almost feel Robbie’s judgment because I haven’t moved that far. I’ve spent four years beating myself up over that night and missing Tilly until I think I am going to go crazy.
But I still have a job in the field I want to work, and I have my own place—or I will have one again when I move back near my parents. Tilly has none of that.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what is reasonable for me to do. Telling her to get on with what she planned seems like a bit of a slap in the face, coming from me. But you’re not here to do it.”
Robbie could be quite tough on Tilly because their parents never were. They were happy as long as Robbie and Tilly were happy, which is kind of what you shoot for when you’re a parent, but it didn’t push them to be the best versions of themselves. So, Robbie did it for them. Emma and Dan are clearly still taking the same stance because Tilly isn’t in her final year at uni, which is where she should be.
“So, if you could send me some direction, that’d be great. Or invade one of her dreams and tell her to sort her shit. Can you do that?”
Robbie would be laughing if he could hear me and probably telling me that I was a dick.
“I can’t move on, Robbie,” I admit with a sigh. “Not from her, not from what happened, not from wishing I could go back in time and stop Stanley from driving. We were so stupid. Silly decisions aren’t supposed to end in death. Why did you have to die, and we didn’t?”
That’s never made sense to me. I was on the same side of the car as him, sitting in the back, but I walked out of there with minor cuts, some bruising, and a slight concussion.
How is that fair?
“I wake up every morning and tell myself that today is the day I move on. I can’t change anything, so it’s pointless, beating myself up, right?” I laugh bitterly. “If only it were that simple. Mate, I am so sorry.”
When I think back to how idiotic and reckless we were that night, it makes me feel sick. We were in our late teens and thought we were indestructible.
“A few beers seemed like nothing. Stanley had no trouble with walking in a straight line, did he? He wasn’t slurring his words; he didn’t seem anything other than his usual, larger-than-life self. How were we to know?” Closing my eyes, I lean back. “Of course, we should have known he’d had more. His blood alcohol level was through the roof.”
I tap my knuckle on the headstone. “There are no excuses, are there, man? We were all dumb that night, and you’re the one who paid the ultimate price. At first, I thought I could help you. You weren’t breathing, but I really thought I could change that. I thought I could get you breathing again, and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t.”
The events of that night flood back, darkening my mind and stealing my breath. I can still see Robbie clear as day, lying on the grass while I tried to awake him up. His eyes, so similar to Tilly’s, were hollow. He was so pale, like the life had already left him.
Shaking my head, I attempt to cast away the images, but they’re burned into my mind. Not even intensive therapy sessions can make these memories fade. They’re here to stay, and I’ve accepted that I’ll watch Robbie die every night before I fall asleep, every morning when I wake, and randomly throughout the day. It’s always there, and it’s my penance.
I’ve offered wondered if Stanley sees it as well. He came around and got out of the car while I was with Robbie. He watched him die, too. Unlike me, he never talks about it. My brother refuses therapy; he refuses to talk at all.
I don’t know how he feels about that night. I’d like to think it’s guilt, but I honestly don’t know. Stanley has never taken responsibility for anything, so in his mind, he could have made up a scenario where it wasn’t his fault. Like Robbie and I could have refused to get in the car with him, or someone could have stopped him from driving. He’s never to blame though.
“I should go now. I have a lot to do, but I’ll come back tomorrow morning, earlier. And I’ll try to sort something out with your sister. I’ll try to help get her back, I promise you.”
Planting my palms on the grass, I push myself to standing.
“See you later, mate,” I say, tapping the top of his headstone.
10
Tilly
Mum and Dad left for work after trying to get me to talk about why I was so “quiet” this morning. They had still been asleep when I got home, so I didn’t have to have that awkward conversation, but they could sense something wasn’t quite right.
The house is silent. Leaving Linc at Robbie’s grave felt … weird, like I should have stayed, but I don’t know why I would have needed to stay.
I walk from the kitchen to the living room and back.
Usually, my days off are spent properly, doing whatever I want—shopping, having my nails done, or binge-watching shows on Netflix—but today, there’s nothing.
I stop at the fridge.
Food. I should eat.
Ugh, I don’t want to bloody eat.
Turning around, I head to the front door. I can’t stay in here. I can’t wander around this house all day with only my thoughts and lack of appetite.
Slipping on my shoes, I grab my keys from the hook and head outside. Linc still isn’t home, and it’s now been three hours since I saw him.
Is he still there? What is he talking to Robbie about?
I would love to know.
Does he talk about that night? Does he tell him he’s sorry? Does he avoid the subject altogether and focus on lighter things?
Robbie never dwelled on the bad. He wouldn’t have wanted Linc to feel guilty forever. He would have wanted to hear about what he was doing now and dumb shit that he’d done. Robbie would have wanted funny stories.
I can’t see that Linc has had many of them in the last four years. We were always having a laugh when we were younger, especially when we walked in the forest. I haven’t been in there since he left.
Linc has never been super carefree or the
life of the party, but compared to the brooding loner he is now, old him was larger than life.
Town is about a twenty-minute walk, and while I usually drive, today, I need the distraction. I hold my breath as I walk past Linc’s house. A part of me still wants to go inside. He’s only just started renovations. I wonder if it still looks exactly like it used to.
There was a flood, but I don’t know how bad the damage is.
Yeah, I can’t go in there. It’d be another reminder of what I lost. I think I can count on both hands the amount of times I’ve been in Linc’s room, but the pull I feel to sit on his bed and listen to old bands or watch old movies makes me grit my teeth.
Most of those times we were alone were when I was having a shit day. When I’d had an argument with my parents or Robbie, when I was stressed over exams at school, and one time when I had been dumped by an old boyfriend.
Mel and Hanna always want to hang out as our trio and have a girls’ day when they’re feeling down, but back then, I wanted to go to Linc and listen to music. I suppose I was doing it all wrong, going to the moody one to make myself feel better when Hanna and Mel would have been a whole lot cheerier, but I would have felt pressure to feel better. I wouldn’t have wanted to rain on their fix Tilly parade by wallowing in whatever issue was going on, but Linc would let me. Then, by doing nothing at all really, he would make things better. With each song that played, I would smile a little, and then he would make me laugh.
By the time we got through an album, I would have forgotten what was wrong. Then, we would put on something scary.
That was the power he had. I didn’t appreciate it at the time. I didn’t really think too much about what he did for me and how much I needed him. If Robbie had died under different circumstances, Linc would have been the first person I went to.
Songs wouldn’t have been able to fix Robbie’s death though, and they can’t fix the vastness between us now.
I’m power-walking, almost breaking into a jog, trying to outrun memories. My feet hit the concrete hard, and I know, if I go any faster, I’ll end up with shin splints tomorrow. Maybe I should. The physical pain would be a welcome distraction.
I used to run, but I’ve not been in a few weeks. I know I’ll definitely be paying for it tomorrow.
Before I know it, I’ve arrived at Greg’s workplace.
Why am I here?
He’s working, damn it. He can’t leave to talk me down from the ledge again. I’ve relied on Greg too much. If he knows I’m struggling, he will leave work. He’s done it before, so I won’t ever let him know what’s going on during his work hours. It’s not fair.
Besides, I know that I could listen to a million albums with Greg, and I wouldn’t feel half as healed as I did with one song in Linc’s room.
Shit, what am I doing? Am I going mad? Is this what it’s like to lose it?
Here I was, thinking I was doing okay. Linc comes home, and all of a sudden, I realise how okay I’m not. Like, really bloody not.
I turn away from the big glass door, but before I can move, Greg calls my name.
Grimacing, I spin back. He’s half-outside, holding the door open in one hand. He must have been walking past just as I was there.
“Hey, Greg,” I greet with my most cheerful voice. I sound a little too much like Hanna as I channel her unicorn personality.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I was just walking.”
Letting go of the door, he takes a step, and he’s outside. “Walking where?”
Good question.
“Lunch.”
“Tilly, it’s not even ten in the morning.”
“Right. Obviously, it’s morning. Brunch. I mean, I’m going for brunch. It’s my day off, so I thought I’d go out. It’s a nice day after all. Don’t want to waste it.”
Shut up, you lunatic!
He tilts his head to the side, keeping his eyes on mine, like he’s trying to read my mind and find the truth. “You’re going alone?”
“Yes. People do that.”
“They do. You don’t.”
I stretch my arms behind my back. “It’s good to try new things. Get out of that comfort zone and all.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Absolutely. I should let you go; you’re working.”
“Okay. Let’s get together sometime soon.”
Is that a request or a demand? Who knows?
But I nod along anyway. “Sounds good. See you later.”
“Bye, Tilly.”
He retreats back into the building, and I hightail it the hell out of there.
Why was that weird?
I felt like I’d been caught out. Okay, I kind of was, but I overreacted, and he now probably thinks I’m on drugs.
I should not be allowed to talk to people when I’m all worked up.
I take off again, jog around the corner of Greg’s building, and slam square into a chest. Squealing like a chipmunk being tortured, I fly back. I’m inches from the hard floor, about to break my arse, when two hands grab mine and end my fall.
Gasping, I look up.
Linc pulls my arms, and I stand. What is he doing here?
He would usually smirk or come out with some witty one-liner, but after this morning, he’s looking very sombre.
He lets go of me the second I have my footing again, like I’ve burned him.
Can I not catch a break today?
I stand straight. “Sorry. I wasn’t looking.”
“Why would you need to look when you run?” he mutters.
So … sarcasm, or is he being a dick? It’s hard to tell with Mr. Poker Face.
“About this morning, I know I was a bit weird, but I am okay with you visiting Robbie’s grave.”
You didn’t tell him you weren’t sure about it, genius!
His lips purse as he undoubtedly reaches the same conclusion. I’m replying to something I thought in my head.
“You weren’t okay with it?”
“I …” Frowning, I try to dig down to the bottom of my backward little mind and find the answer. Sodding blank.
“Tilly?” he prompts, his lips thinning with impatience.
“It’s complicated, Linc.”
He scratches the back of his neck and takes a deep breath. “It’s not actually. You’re either okay with it or you’re not.”
“Well, I think you’ll find, I know my own mind better than you.” Debatable. “So, when I tell you I’m unsure, I’m unsure.”
Shaking his head, he looks up to the sky for help. I would do it, too, if it worked.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my shoulders slumping at the weight of my words. “I don’t want to feel like this.”
His eyes meet mine again, and he looks sad, like he’s just realised we haven’t come as far as he thought.
One step forward, three steps back. That pretty much sums up my whole life right now.
I’m wading through mud, and I know I’ll come out on the other side, but I don’t know how or when.
11
Tilly
Hanna and I are sitting in a quiet café after a busy morning shift in the restaurant. The new breakfast menu is going down really well, but my feet are screaming from the rush, so I was glad when Hanna suggested we grab something to eat.
It was a solid idea, and I’m usually always down for food. Except now when I still don’t feel like eating anything. So, I’m hungry, but I can’t eat, and I’ll be tired all day.
It doesn’t help that I slept like a newborn last night, waking every couple of hours. My traitorous mind kept reverting back to my meeting with Linc at Robbie’s grave yesterday.
Did he go back there this morning?
I wouldn’t know, as I stayed well away, lying awake in my bed, wondering if he was sitting by my brother’s headstone.
“I hate that it’s too early to drink,” she says, stretching her back.
Me, too. I could do with a Coors Light about now. Or three of them.
<
br /> It’s a little after midday, and we’ve ordered coffee and the all-day breakfast here, but I’m dreading it coming because my stomach is churning, and if I don’t eat, Hanna will have questions.
“Technically, it’s afternoon, so that’s not too early,” I offer.
“Yeah, but I have to go to Jack’s parents’ for dinner tonight, and I cannot turn up drunk. His mum will say things. She already thinks I’m not good enough for her precious son.”
“She’s crazy.”
Hanna nods. “I know. So, have you spoken to Linc any more?”
“Yesterday. He was …” Sighing, I loosen my shoulders. “He was at Robbie’s grave super early in the morning. Then, I ran into him in town.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh. Wait, what were you doing there super early in the morning?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I got up. He was outside, getting some stuff in from his car. I felt like the walls were closing in, so I took off and ended up with Robbie. Linc turned up shortly after. He admitted that he goes there either really early or really late, so we don’t run into him.”
“Does it bother you that he goes there?”
“Um … sort of, yeah. I know they were friends, and I won’t stop him because Robbie would have wanted him there. But … ugh, I bloody don’t know, Hanna. Everything surrounding Linc is so foggy. I miss my friend, but I can’t see past what happened. How dumb is that?”
“It’s not dumb. Do you blame Linc for Robbie’s death? He didn’t know that Stanley had kept drinking.”
“I understand that, but he knew that he’d had a couple. Stanley was three times over the limit, and no one knew. Even if he hadn’t seen Stanley order the alcohol in his Coke, you can tell when someone has had too much.”
“Can you? I mean, I could tell if you have, but Jack can really put it away. He could be over the limit after one, but he needs at least seven or eight before it shows. Besides, Stanley always seemed drunk.”
Hanna’s defence of Linc leaves an unsettling weight in my stomach.
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