by Maria Realf
‘Yeah, good luck following that,’ laughed Naomi.
Megan made her way back to the table, a triumphant grin lingering on her lips. The bouncer’s eyes followed her all the way over. ‘Hey, can we get another round of tequila, please?’ she asked their hostess. ‘Anyway, back to the bride – truth or dare?’
‘Truth.’
‘Best shag ever?’ asked Louise. ‘Excluding Josh, of course.’
Megan looked miffed. ‘I’m sure we can come up with something better than that.’
‘No,’ said Lily. ‘You can’t change the question once it’s asked. ‘Fess up, Lizzie.’
Lizzie paused for a minute, pretending she had to think about it. ‘Well, I guess I’d say Alex,’ she said finally.
‘I knew it!’ said Louise. ‘He looked like he’d be good.’
‘Who’s Alex?’ asked Phoebe.
Megan swiftly changed the subject. ‘Well, if you’re so chatty, Lou, maybe you should go next. Truth or dare?’
‘Truth.’ But before anyone could pose a suitably nosy question, a tall guy with an old-school stereo in his hand sauntered over to the group. ‘Excuse me ladies, but I’m after Lizzie Sparkes?’
Lizzie felt that last shot of tequila slosh around in her stomach. Megan, what have you done now?
‘She’s over here,’ said Megan with a grin.
‘Well, that’s good. Seems one of you ladies put in a call for a little assistance from The A-Team.’ He pressed play on the machine and the iconic theme tune blared from the speakers. Suddenly a hulk of a guy decked out in gold chains, a denim waistcoat and a rather distinctive haircut made his way towards the group, and began rhythmically rubbing oil over his muscles.
‘Oh no you didn’t …’ Lizzie mouthed to Megan.
‘Hey, I pity da girl who wants a tame hen night,’ she replied.
‘But I specifically said no strippers!’
‘Don’t worry, I only booked a lookalike to show us a few moves …’
22
4 March 2005
Lizzie rolled over and jabbed at her mobile, her camisole stretching across her chest as she tried to knock off the alarm. No matter how many times she heard that beep, it never grew any less annoying. This morning it felt even worse than normal, as she’d only just managed to drift off after another night of disturbed sleep. She wondered how new mums managed to do it without wanting to punch everything in their path.
It was the first time she and Alex had returned to the cottage since the funeral. She had hoped that being back in his own space might be good for him, away from the constant reminders of Connor’s absence that haunted every inch of his family home. But something had shifted here, too: the familiar surroundings only amplifying the fact that everything else had changed. There might have been less physical traces of his twin, but ghosts weren’t bound by geography.
Alex had barely slept at all last night, thrashing around in the darkness and frightening the crap out of her at random intervals. Once, he lashed out so much he nearly whacked her on the chin. She had tried her best to calm him down: holding him close, stroking his hair, wishing she could wipe away all the pain inside his head. She whispered over and over that he was going to be alright.
But was he?
He needed help, she knew that much. The bigger problem was getting Alex to admit it. He’d practically snapped her head off when she suggested he consider seeing a counsellor. Lizzie was trying to be patient, but she was out of her depth and the stress was starting to take its toll. By day she was permanently exhausted and by night she was practically an insomniac.
She hated to admit it, but their relationship was feeling the strain. It wasn’t that she loved him any less – if anything, seeing him so fragile made her love him even more – but she had no idea how to help him out of such a dark hole if he wasn’t willing to help himself. Plus there was also the matter of her final exams, which were only a few weeks away. With everything that had been going on, she hadn’t exactly been doing her best revision, but she needed to get her head down or else she was facing an epic fail. It was enough to keep her awake at night – if she wasn’t already.
At least exams were one thing Alex didn’t have to deal with. His boss at the bar had been sympathetic, promising to keep his job open until he felt ready to return. Still, she wondered how much further Joe’s patience would stretch given Alex’s current condition. Maybe going back to work would do him good? At least it would get him out of the house, give him something to get up for? Then again, it might be a terrible idea. He didn’t exactly scream happy hour.
The snooze function on her phone interrupted her thoughts, and Lizzie had an overwhelming urge to throw it out of the window. The last thing she felt like doing now was dragging herself off to a tutorial, but she couldn’t afford to miss any more at this crucial point in the term.
OK, OK. She reached over again and switched it off. One more minute.
She cuddled up next to Alex and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, her lips brushing his rough stubble. ‘Alex, I’ve got to get to class,’ she whispered. ‘Are you going to go in and have a chat with Joe today? I could swing by the bar and meet you for lunch if you like.’
He stared blankly at the wall. ‘No, I’m alright,’ he mumbled.
He didn’t look alright. ‘Are you sure?’ she said, running her fingers gently down his bare arm. ‘Maybe you could just swing by for a bit and then we could walk home together? I know Joe would love to see you.’
‘I’m not going to the bar,’ he said gruffly.
‘OK then. Maybe next week.’
‘No.’ He rolled onto his side. ‘I’m not working there any more.’
Lizzie sat upright. ‘What? Did something happen?’ She shook her head. ‘We should go down there right now and speak to Joe. You’ve obviously been through a lot and they need to give you some more—’
‘Nothing happened,’ he interrupted. ‘I just don’t feel like going in there.’
‘So you’re quitting?’ She couldn’t hide her surprise.
‘I already did. Three days ago.’
What?
She tried to reason with the stranger beside her. ‘Alex, if you want a new job then I’m behind you, 100 per cent. But maybe you shouldn’t make any drastic decisions while you’re …’ Her voice trailed off awkwardly.
‘I don’t want another job,’ he sighed, his back still to her.
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I’ll manage,’ he said. ‘I’ve got some savings I can live off for a while.’
‘But then what?’ He was really scaring her now. ‘How are you going to afford, like, food?’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Well, I care. I can’t just sit here and watch you throw your life away!’
‘It’s my life!’
‘I know, but I’m really concerned about you. Connor wouldn’t have wanted to see you like this …’
He sat bolt upright, his eyes flashing. She immediately regretted bringing up the C word, but it was too late.
‘How do you know what Connor would have wanted?’
She held up her hands defensively. ‘I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’
‘The only thing Connor wanted was for me to go travelling with him,’ he spat out. ‘But I didn’t do that, did I? Because I wanted to stay here with you.’
His words pierced like a knife. ‘How long are you going to keep holding that against me?’ she cried. ‘I didn’t force you to stay. It’s like you think this is all my fault …’
‘No, it’s my fault,’ he roared, his chest shaking. ‘I should have been there for him. And I wasn’t. He was so angry when I told him I wasn’t going … and I can’t … I didn’t …’ In frustration, he smashed his fist into the wall, causing the plaster to splinter into tiny cracks. Then he curled up into a ball and began to cry.
For a second, Lizzie felt as though the world had stopped. ‘Sshhh,’ she whispered, holding him tightly, not knowing what e
lse to say or do. ‘I’m right here.’
They sat like that for a full two minutes, until Alex finally lifted his head and wiped his red, puffy eyes. A trickle of blood ran down his swollen right hand and splashed onto the duvet. ‘What am I going to do?’ he asked quietly.
‘Look, we’re going to get through this,’ said Lizzie, with as much conviction as she could muster. ‘But you need help, Alex. I really think you should go and see the doctor. I’ll come with you.’
He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t want to.’
‘Why? You’ve been through a really tough time.’
‘I need to deal with this in my own way, Lizzie.’
She took a deep breath. ‘Alex, please listen to me. I’m worried about you. I’m worried about … us.’
He flinched ever so slightly, and she knew her words had struck a nerve. ‘I know,’ he said eventually. ‘I can’t have been easy to be with lately. I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t have to be sorry,’ she said, stroking his back. ‘We can get through this together. All I’m asking you to do is try. Please. For me?’
‘Try what?’ She felt his muscles tense up. ‘Try to pretend like nothing’s happened? I can’t do that, Lizzie.’
‘That’s not what I meant. I just thought—’
‘Thought what? That I should be over it by now? Poor pathetic Alex, moping around like some sort of loser …’
‘No!’ she said, wishing he’d stop shovelling words in her mouth. ‘I’m just trying to be supportive, that’s all.’
‘You’re not supporting me, you’re smothering me,’ he shouted. ‘Connor was right – you’re always here. And it makes me feel like I can’t breathe.’
His outburst completely stunned her. What’s got into him? She shot out of bed, grabbing her jeans from the floor and wriggling into them furiously. ‘You’re out of order,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘And you can’t keep blaming me for the fact you didn’t go to Thailand. I gave you that chance!’
‘What, just before he left? You knew I couldn’t go then!’
‘Did it ever occur to you that if you had gone, maybe you’d be dead too?’ She bit her lip, but it was too late to hit pause. The words left a nasty aftertaste on her tongue.
He looked at her angrily. ‘You think that makes me feel better? Because it doesn’t. You don’t know what might have happened if I’d been there to look out for him.’
‘Alex, you can’t keep tormenting yourself like this.’ She took a deep breath and tried again. ‘Let me get you some help …’
‘No,’ he snapped. ‘Just leave me alone.’
‘Fine!’ she shouted, throwing her jumper on over her cami before realising it was inside out. She picked up her bag and reached for the bedroom door. ‘I’m going. I can’t be with you when you’re like this.’ She needed to get out of the cottage, to walk along the beach and vent into the salty air.
‘I can’t be with you either,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s too hard.’
What?
She spun round to face him, her heart racing so fast she thought she might go into cardiac arrest. Is he breaking up with me? She couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it, and yet it was hard to know what this person who had replaced her boyfriend might be capable of.
‘What’s that supposed to mean, Alex?’
He looked down at the duvet.
‘I don’t think we should do this any more. I’m sorry.’
‘So that’s it?’ she whispered, every word scraping her tight throat. ‘We’re done?’
He didn’t reply. She stormed out of the room and the cottage without looking back, slamming the front door so hard his windows shook. Then she ran down the steps and along the beach, angry tears tumbling down her cheeks and burying themselves in the sand.
There was a faint knock on the bedroom door. ‘Lizzie, can I come in?’ asked Megan. She pushed the door ajar and peered round the corner. ‘Gareth and I thought you might like some chicken soup for lunch?’
You thought wrong, Lizzie wanted to say, but she didn’t like to be mean to Megan. Especially since she’d finally managed to knock. ‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, not bothering to move. She’d spent the last two hours just stretched out on top of the duvet. ‘Can you put it on the desk over there?’
‘Will do,’ said Megan, looking her up and down. ‘So, I see you’re still modelling pret-a-pyjamas?’
Lizzie nodded glumly. She really didn’t feel like getting dressed, or anything else that required much effort. Feeling miserable was sapping all her energy.
‘I’m revising,’ she lied, lifting up her textbook and burying her nose in the tear-stained pages. The words swam blurrily before her tired eyes.
‘It’s upside down,’ said Megan helpfully.
‘Oh.’ Lizzie chucked it on the bed and hauled herself into a sitting position, hugging her legs up to her chest. ‘Have you been here all morning? Did anyone call?’
‘Only your mum. Twice. You need to ring her back.’ Megan went over to the window and opened Lizzie’s curtains. ‘We’ve got to get you out of the house soon. Being cooped up in here isn’t going to do you any good.’
Lizzie didn’t care. The one person she had cared about more than anything had decided he didn’t want to be with her. From now on she was going to stay locked in her room, with only her books and PJs for company.
‘This is ridiculous, you know,’ Megan continued. ‘It’s been ten days. One of you needs to pick up the phone.’
‘Why does it have to be me?’
‘Because you can’t both be stubborn sods!’ Megan gave an exasperated sigh and sat down on the bed beside her. ‘Look, you know you’re my best friend, and I’m not trying to defend Alex or pretend he’s not been an idiot.’ She paused, and rested one hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. ‘But he’s been through a horrible, horrible time, Lizzie. He’s just hurt right now, that’s all. I know he doesn’t mean it.’
‘You think?’ The faintest flicker of hope stirred inside her.
‘I’m positive. Like, 110 per cent.’
‘That’s not a real thing. You can’t have more than 100 per cent.’
‘Whatever. It’s blatantly obvious you two are supposed to be together. You just need to stop this stupid argument.’
Maybe she’s right. With every day that ticked by, Lizzie’s misery was multiplying. What if Alex feels the same and he’s just too proud to say so? They had both traded blows in the heat of the fight, but it was nothing they couldn’t get up from.
‘Do you think I should call him now?’
‘Yeah, totally! Or, even better, go round there and then you can have make-up sex. That’s the best.’
Actually, perhaps it would be better to talk to him face to face. She leaned over and gave Megan a large hug. ‘Alright, I’ll go over there this afternoon.’
‘Great. Just one more thing before you go …’
‘What?’
‘You might want to take a quick shower first. I think those PJs have gone off.’
Lizzie sat on the bus, looking past the white splodge of bird poo and out to the people on the pavements, all walking around casually with their heads full of work or their plans for the weekend. She slid open the top section of the window, breathing in a mix of sea air and car fumes as the number 6 trundled along its regular route, never stopping for a spontaneous scenic detour of Cliffstowe.
She had been feeling optimistic when she left Megan, but now – sat by herself on the scratchy blue seat – the doubts were beginning to creep back in. She tried to think what she would say to Alex when she saw him. What he might say to her. She was suddenly afraid that he really didn’t love her any more; that he blamed her for driving a wedge between him and Connor. He can’t believe that was all my fault, can he? Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe just the sight of her was a permanent reminder of why he’d stayed behind.
The bus dawdled along the coast towards the cottage, slowing down as it trailed behind a queue of traffic. Oh, come on! I
could walk faster than this! Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. Out of luck – and totally out of patience – she asked the driver to pull over.
‘I can’t stop here,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to wait till the next one.’
‘Fine,’ she said impatiently, pressing the ‘stop’ button twice for good measure. She was starting to feel slightly travel sick. Or was it lovesick?
‘Are you alright?’ The driver eyed her suspiciously, probably worried that she was some hungover student about to spew all over his bus.
‘Yes … no … I don’t know.’ She was too flustered to lie. ‘I just need to get off.’
The driver pulled into the bus stop as swiftly as he could and released the doors. She set off in the direction of Alex’s place, slowly at first then almost running, her patent pumps nearly slipping off her feet. The cool breeze sent her hair billowing out behind her, and stung against her exposed cheeks.
As she rounded the corner to the cottage, Lizzie struggled to catch her breath, each mouthful of air feeling like sandpaper against her throat. But she could not slow down, not until he held her and admitted that he hadn’t really meant to break up with her after all. He loves me. I know he loves me. She had always been sure of that before. So why do I feel so scared?
She could see his front door now, and she flung herself upon it, knocking hard with her right fist until it hurt. ‘Alex! It’s me. I need to see you.’
He didn’t answer. Is he ignoring me? She peered through the windows at the front of the cottage, noticing that the downstairs lights were off. She could just about glimpse the outline of his living room furniture, and the giant tower of CDs standing in the corner, but there was no sign of Alex. She wondered if he was still in bed or whether he’d actually managed to leave the house.
After another minute and still no response, she reached for her mobile and rang him. It went straight through to voicemail, the message telling her to leave a number after the beep. ‘Alex, it’s me,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve come over to see you because I think we need to talk. Please call me when you get this. I miss you.’