The Missing Pieces of Me: Discover the novel that will break your heart and mend it again

by Amelia Mandeville

  I don’t know how to respond, so I nod and walk back upstairs.

  I pause outside my room, and stare at Zara.

  There it is: Willow’s eyes, Willow’s face. My heart aches and swells with love at the same time. It hurts me every time I look at her, but I know as well that she’s the best thing in my life. I can’t neglect my daughter, she deserves better. We both deserve better. I tickle her nose and she giggles. ‘I’m sorry I left you,’ I whisper, before cuddling her into me. ‘Daddy will never leave you again, I promise.’

  Back in my room, my phone has come back to life. And it has pretty much exploded with messages and missed calls. From Mum, Georgia, Joe and Alicia primarily.

  Dustin pick up the phone.

  Where are you?

  Please, Dustin. Are you ok?

  Please don’t ignore me … Dustin, for Zara. Please.

  Dustin, talk to me.

  Dustin, let me know you’re ok.

  Dustin, please, this isn’t fair.

  There’s a familiar desperation to the messages.

  I’m such a dick.

  And then I see it. The notification on Facebook messenger, and the floor feels like it has just dropped away beneath me.

  Hey Dustin, sorry, your messages went to the ‘other’ folder. I didn’t see them. Shall we meet for a coffee?

  Oh my God.

  Jake.

  PART III

  Chapter 64

  Willow

  Then – May 2020

  In the wise words of … someone: ‘Fake it till you make it.’

  That’s what I’m doing. I’m faking being happy. I’m faking getting over Gran. I’m faking being a great girlfriend, a great mum, a happy, young, got-it-together Willow.

  It’s hard faking it all the time though.

  It’s been just over three months since Gran died, and I swear I feel worse rather than better. Zara has started speaking, kind of. It’s about time, she’s a little behind. She can’t walk yet, and can only just stand. But she started saying ‘Mama’, and although I could have cried with relief that she wasn’t incapable of speech after all, I didn’t feel completely happy at her choice. It felt accusatory. Like she was the one taking the major steps in our relationship. Then she said ‘blankie’ and that made more sense to me, her blanket is special to her. It was the one I knitted for Dustin back in New Haw. How times have changed since then. I don’t knit now, not since Gran, that wouldn’t be fair.

  I’m so worried that I’m the reason she’s slow at developing, that it’s my inability to bond with her. Of course I haven’t said that to Dustin, but I did mention that I was concerned so a few weeks ago we took her to the doctor’s together. When the doctor said it was nothing to be too worried about, I burst into tears. Was it relief? Or was it because I didn’t believe him?

  Thankfully it’s Friday, which means Dustin will be home to help with Zara. And we’ll be able to spend some time together, even if I’m not exactly up for going out and having fun at the moment.

  When Dustin comes home about half six, he rushes in, lifts Zara out of my arms, twirls her around and kisses her, before placing her back in my hands, and going into the bedroom. ‘Hey, Wills?’ he calls across the hallway.

  ‘Yes?’ I reply quietly, following him into the room. He’s laid a T-shirt and jeans on the bed and is looking in the mirror, checking his hair. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask, but I already know the answer.

  ‘Going to the pub with the work guys for a quick drink,’ he says as he sprays aftershave on. ‘I was sweaty, I had to get changed.’

  My stomach sinks, my heart pounding as my limbs almost start to feel weak. This feeling is happening too often, and I can’t seem to get away from it. I stare at him silently, holding a stirring Zara in my arms.

  Dustin smiles in the mirror, before looking back at me. ‘Did I not tell you?’

  I shake my head. If I speak I might cry, and I might never stop.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Wills. I won’t be late tonight though,’ he says, with a wink.

  He walks past me and out of the door. I follow him almost in a daze, placing Zara in her high chair. I take a deep breath. I have to tell him. I can’t be alone tonight again. I’m struggling. He’s drinking orange juice from the carton in our tiny kitchen area.

  ‘Dustin, I really want you to stay here tonight.’ Dustin turns his head towards me, carton still in his hand, his brow furrowed. ‘I … I think it’s unfair you didn’t tell me you were going out, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d stay. I’m feeling really … tired.’

  Dustin puts the carton back in the fridge, closes the door, and walks over to me. He holds my hands, and I feel proud of myself for being honest. For saying what I think for once, and he actually listened.

  ‘I’m sorry, Willow, I’ll make more of a conscious effort to tell you next time. I just didn’t think.’

  I smile. ‘Thank you, I really appreciate it,’ I say. But then Dustin walks over to the coat rack, and starts putting his coat on, and my smile disappears. ‘Wait … you’re still going?’

  Dustin pauses. ‘What, you really don’t want to me to go for a quick drink?’

  I nod my head, feeling so embarrassed, pathetic. ‘I just really want you with me tonight.’

  ‘But, Wills, I’m with you nearly every night. And if I don’t go, I’ll let the work lot down. You know I hate doing that.’

  I feel my lip start to tremble. ‘But … you’re letting me down.’

  I instantly feel Dustin’s arms around me.

  ‘I’m sorry, Willow,’ he mumbles in my ear, his hand stroking my hair. He pulls away, so he’s looking at me. ‘I won’t be long at all, and we have the whole weekend together. Why don’t you put some Netflix on, there’s a chocolate bar in the fridge, pour yourself a glass of wine, and before you know it, I’ll be back. OK?’

  I look at him, feeling my heart deflate. ‘OK.’

  When he leaves, I find myself leaning against the door, slowly sliding onto the floor. I pull my phone from the pocket of my sweatpants. I hover over Gran’s number, my heart deflating even more. ‘I miss you, Gran,’ I hear myself say, as a tear spills down my cheek. ‘Why aren’t you here? You’d make everything better. I need you. I really really need you.’

  I open up Gee’s contact details and start typing a message.

  Gee I think there’s something wrong with me

  I pause. I look at the last message she sent to me, when I asked if she was around to FaceTime a few days ago.

  Sorry, I can’t talk right now. I’m on a date. Hoooooot guy! Luv ya.

  I delete the message.

  I open up my last conversation with Jake. I haven’t seen him … since … the thing happened.

  Hey Willow, haven’t seen you at the class in a while? I hope it’s not because of me. Just want to check we are cool.

  Hope you are ok! Send me a message, we can chat.

  Then I look at the message above.

  Hey Willow, I know we talked about it, but I just want to say sorry again for … what happened. Totally my fault. I would really like us to stay friends! Please come back to class, it would be great to see you again. I hate the fact we don’t talk any more. Let’s do that coffee date we were going to do?

  I miss him. But I ruined it. It was my own fault. I place my phone on the floor and close my eyes, trying not to let the ripple of sadness that seems such a part of me turn into a tidal wave. Piece by piece, my life has fallen apart.

  I hear a soft grizzle.

  I look at my daughter, her bottom lip trembling. ‘Why do you cry so much around me?’ I whisper. Can she see the real me? The heavy weight pressing down on me so that most of the time I feel I can barely breathe? Does she know that I suck at being a mum? Can she tell I have felt miserable ever since I had her? Does she know that? But then I love her. I love her so much, so why do I feel so sad? Why do I find it all so hard?

  What is the future going to be like? Will she have a childhood like mine? Wi
ll I do that to her? She doesn’t have a gran to save the day, to take her to her school plays, to cook dinner, to tuck her in at night. But she has a Dustin.

  This empty feeling isn’t going to go away, is it?

  I wipe another tear off my face, my shaking fingers playing with the loose threads on the carpet. I need to get up, give Zara a bath, but I like it here, on the floor, by the door.

  I need to fix myself.

  But sometimes things are too broken to fix, aren’t they?

  And there’s nobody I can talk to about any of this. Nobody who understands how hard being a parent is.

  Except …

  2 days later …

  When I get back to the flat, I don’t even take off my coat. I unpack, take Zara out of her pushchair; she’s sleepy. I put her in her high chair and look at her again. My beautiful daughter. She doesn’t deserve to have a mother who can’t cope. And won’t it just get harder, as she gets older and she begins to resent me? Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if …

  I stand up. For the first time in months, everything feels clear.

  I take a pen from the mug on the kitchen worktop, and I start to write.

  Chapter 65

  Dustin

  ‘Right, no rush, take your time, I’ll wait for you, just text me when you’re done,’ Georgia says, as we stand outside the coffee shop.

  ‘Thanks, Georgia,’ I mumble.

  She nods her head. ‘You sure you don’t want me to take her?’ she asks, nodding to Zara who I’m clutching to the side of my hip. I stroke Zara’s head protectively.

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure,’ I reply.

  Jake suggested we meet in Brighton, which is a pain, but I guess it makes sense. He’s not going to traipse to New Haw, is he? It’s not like there’s much in it for him.

  He isn’t there when I go in, so I grab a two-seat table and a high chair and pop Zara into it.

  ‘Dustin?’

  I jump, turning around to see a man standing awkwardly behind me. He has shaggy golden hair, and is carrying a baby boy in his arms, just a little bigger than Zara.

  ‘Jake?’ I ask.

  He nods his head, reaching out to shake my hand. I pretend I didn’t see it. I look around and quickly move a spare high chair next to him, in which he places his baby boy. I stare at the kid. I didn’t know he had a kid.

  ‘How old is he?’ I ask.

  ‘Theo is nineteen months. Two months older than Zara,’ he says proudly.

  Like I need you to tell me how old my daughter is, mate, I think defensively. But I say, ‘You’ve met Zara a few times?’

  ‘Well, yeah, at least once a week.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Well, I’d see her at baby yoga. That’s how Willow and I knew each other.’

  Sorry … baby what?

  ‘Baby yoga? Is that really a thing?’

  Jake raises his eyebrows. ‘That’s how Willow and I met. Did you not know that?’

  For a second I think about lying, pretending I knew all about it all along, but this is my chance to find out the truth. It’s time to be honest.

  ‘No … I didn’t,’ I say quietly. ‘I think there were a few things I didn’t know.’

  Chapter 66

  Willow

  Now

  Life surprises you, huh?

  Sometimes people win the lottery.

  Sometimes it’s a surprise party.

  Sometimes you get the dream job you wanted.

  Or maybe sometimes you find yourself here, no partner, no child, lost. But I have a job, at least. I make coffees. And I’m actually pretty good at it. So much for me thinking I would be too clumsy for it.

  When I came to Reading, it was the first place I saw a job listing at the window. A cute little coffee shop, so I went in, asked, got the job that day.

  I do like the job. I mean I wouldn’t say it’s my passion, but it keeps me busy. The five a.m. wake-up time is perfect because I don’t really sleep much, and when I do it’s only for a few hours a night. The girls who work here are nice. A lot of them are students. One is a mum. When she told me I said I couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be to have a child.

  And the manager is a nice friendly lady in her thirties, who moved here from France. But I swear her English is better than mine.

  They always ask me questions about myself, and where I’ve come from, what I did before here, and there’s only so long you can avoid questions. So it became easier to invent answers instead. I’ve come up with an alter ego. My name is Willow and I’m a creative design graduate, straight out of Brighton Uni. I’ve now moved back home with my family in Reading, got this job while I take a gap year and figure out what I’m doing for the future.

  That’s probably the biggest lie of all. I don’t ever think about the future.

  ‘Ergh, I’m so tired,’ Libby says, slamming her head on the till.

  The shop opened at seven today, it’s now twelve. She looks at me, squinting. ‘How are you not tired?’

  I shrug my shoulders. ‘I don’t really get tired any more.’ Which is a lie. Physically I’m always tired. But my mind isn’t, my mind is always awake. But there’s no point trying to explain that to Libby.

  She looks at me, and it makes me nervous, like she’s trying to work me out. ‘You sure you don’t want to do the tills for once?’

  I smile, shaking my head. ‘I’m good, but thanks.’

  I like doing the coffees, it gets busy, and stressful, and that’s good. That’s what I need. A never-ending to-do list. Constant activities. Like right now, it’s too quiet for me. But at least I can change the filters, I can clean the surfaces, I can do the dishwasher, I can do so much. Standing at the till you have time to think. Also you have to interact with the customers. Who wants that?

  I stroke the spot where my necklace used to hang. I lost it a couple of weeks ago. I had noticed the clasp had come loose, but hadn’t got round to fixing it. By the time I got to work, it was gone. I scoured the pavements, traced my route. But I guess someone must have taken it.

  Chapter 67

  Dustin

  Jake buys us both a coffee. I get an almond caramel latte, which is what Willow would always order. I want to see if Jake will say something about it, but he doesn’t. So now I have to drink this super-sweet drink for nothing. He just sits down with the drinks and asks me if I want sugar or anything.

  ‘Nah, I’m good, cheers,’ I say. There’s an awkward silence, and I think about breaking the ice by asking him more about his baby, but then I remember he’s not a friend, and I’m here for a reason. So I go straight in.

  ‘So, Willow didn’t tell you that she was going to leave?’

  Jake shakes his head. ‘I mean … ’ He pauses, thinking better of what he was about to say. ‘Nah, it’s silly.’

  I stare at him. Is he playing with me? Is he an actual arsehole? ‘What? Don’t do that. Tell me what you were going to say.’

  He looks at me thoughtfully. ‘Well, it was just that she once asked me if I ever felt like I wanted to disappear. I thought she meant it metaphorically.’

  My stomach feels like it’s twisting, as I clench my jaw. ‘Why would she ask you that?’ I manage to spit out.

  Jake shrugs. ‘Like I said, I didn’t think she meant anything by it. But we talked about a lot of things, so it wasn’t weird.’

  Stay calm, Dustin, Georgia had said. My legs are starting to shake. I’m not sure I’m doing a good job of that.

  ‘I just don’t get it. Willow really wasn’t one to jump into conversations with strangers.’

  Jake runs a hand through his hair, before looking back at me. ‘Well we weren’t strangers, Dustin.’

  ‘Or even to make friends on her own,’ I protest.

  ‘She and I were the only ones there our age.’

  ‘Well, she didn’t even tell me about it. I would have gone if I’d known,’ I cut in defensively.

  Jake looks at me evenly before continuing. ‘I went up to her that first day, I tho
ught she must be a single parent too.’ Yeah, I bet you did, I think. ‘So I held the door open to her, and then we just started talking. And I guess we had quite a bit in common. Both young parents. Both like design.’

  I look quickly at Zara, who’s happily playing with a bit of fruit on the high chair. OK, I’m going to cut to the chase here.

  ‘Did you and Willow have an affair?’ I say it quietly.

  Jake frowns. ‘No, we were just friends.’

  ‘You sure? You’re not lying to me? Did you fancy her or anything?’

  Jake looks uncomfortable, pushing a hand through his hair again. ‘I mean … well, at the beginning, yeah, a little bit, but once I found out she was with you … I was just happy to be her friend. I was just happy we got on so well.’

  I let out the breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding. ‘If that’s the case I can’t understand why she didn’t tell me about you.’

  ‘Maybe because she thought you wouldn’t be interested.’

  Excuse me?

  ‘Sorry, what?’

  ‘Well, it was just that she mentioned that sometimes you didn’t listen when she tried to talk to you about things. Like feeling lonely.’

  ‘Willow was never lonely. She had me.’

  Jake calmly sips his coffee. ‘Of course she did, but I think sometimes Willow felt like she had no social life. You know what it’s like, when the baby comes, that’s the first thing to go. Willow felt like she didn’t go out any more, she didn’t see anyone. I think she felt stuck, trapped.’

  ‘But she always liked staying at home. And there were always opportunities for her to come out to see our friends.’

  ‘It’s not that easy though, is it? Who was going to look after Zara?’

  ‘Her gran could have. At least before, well … ’

  ‘Was she ever actually invited?’

  ‘Yes! Well, most of the time. I mean, she didn’t need an invitation, she knew she was welcome. I don’t think it’s fair for you to say anything when you don’t—’