Max smiled, but I could tell he wasn't convinced.
‘Just give yourself a break, okay?’
‘Michael would hit me if he were here,’ he scoffed.
I gave him a look. ‘You know as well as I do, Michael would never hit anyone. Especially not his best friend.’
‘He was amazing, wasn’t he?’ he said with a small smile. There was a twinkle in his dark eyes as he remembered our very best friend.
I smiled and nodded. ‘Yes. He was.’
Max took a deep breath. ‘I’d spoken to him loads about Thailand, you know. Long before it happened. I wanted to go straight after uni, and Michael urged me to, but I thought I’d be sensible and get a real job. But after Michael died, it scared me. What if I spent my whole life being sensible and never did anything I wanted to?’
I nodded. ‘I know. We never even thought about death until he got cancer. All we ever thought about was life, living it from one day to the next. We planned all sorts. We planned to do it all ‘one day’. Of course, 'one day' never came.’
‘He’d be so proud of you, Lina,’ Max said warmly.
I raised a brow. ‘He would?’
Max nodded and took a swig of his beer. ‘I’ve been reading your blog. You help a lot of women.’
‘I piss off a lot of women, too,’ I said with a light laugh. ‘For every comment telling me how much my blog has helped them, I get another accusing me of using my husband’s death to make money.’
‘Those women are idiots. You’re just doing what you need to.’
I sighed softly. ‘I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t started that blog. I started it not caring if a single person read it, and I still don’t. It’s been so cathartic. Just to put my feelings out there like that, so that they’re not bottled up anymore. I’m not the only one going through it, and it’s nice to know that.’
‘You’re not,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry again that I left like I
did. I made a huge mistake marrying Poppy.’
‘You did?’ I acted shocked, but I wasn’t.
‘You’re a bad actress, Lina,’ he laughed. ‘I know you never liked her.’
‘I wouldn’t say I didn’t like her.’
Max raised a brow.
‘Okay, I hated her,’ I said, giving in. ‘She was never good enough for you. But I never said anything because you seemed happy and that was the most important thing.’
‘I was. For a while,’ Max said, ‘but there were times I’d wonder what I was doing with her. She was so needy and jealous. Even before we got married.’
‘So why did you marry her, you wally?’
‘I was a wally. A big one. I should never have married her. But after Michael died, I couldn’t stop thinking about how my life wasn’t progressing, and I started to imagine what would happen if she died. It made all the bad stuff disappear for a bit,’ he explained.
‘That’s understandable. Grief does weird stuff to people.’ I thought about how I’d often pretend Michael was there and how I spoke to him.
‘It does. Anyway, how are the girls?’
Over food, I updated Michael on Kit’s and Roanna’s lives and told him all about the bucket list I’d found and that we were all completing it together. I asked him if he wanted to join us, but he was a little low on cash, so he’d had to decline. I’d offered to lend him the money, but he wouldn’t take it. He had, however, insisted that he’d save up to complete the last item on the list. To climb Mont Blanc.
We had a great time together that night.
We spoke about Michael, about the past, about what the future might hold.
‘Where are you staying anyway?’ I asked when we reached my apartment just after eleven o’ clock that night.
Max looked sheepish. ‘I’m back with my mum and dad for a bit,’ he said, a flash of amused embarrassment colouring his words.
‘Oh, wow. Does it feel like being a teenager again?’ As much as I loved my parents, I wasn’t sure I could live with them full-time again.
Max laughed and nodded. ‘Yep. I’ve been there for three days, and I’ve already been reminded that it’s not a hotel about sixteen times.’
I laughed. ‘Those were the days.’ I paused for a moment. ‘You know, if it ever gets a bit much, you can always come and stay with me. We have that spare room, remember?’
Max’s eyes brightened behind his glasses for a moment. ‘Elina, as nice as that would be, I wouldn’t be able to pay you any rent and I wouldn’t feel right about it.’
I smiled. ‘I’m not asking you as a lodger, Max. I’m asking you as a friend. It would be nice to have someone around the house again. I only really talk to Indie, and I can’t always understand what she’s saying,’ I joked.
Max chuckled.
I reached out and touched his arm. ‘Please. Think about it, okay? Even if it’s just until you find a job.’
Max thought for a moment and then nodded. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he agreed.
‘Great.’ I grinned. ‘Now, thank you for a lovely evening, but I have a dog that has probably waited up for me.’
‘It’s been lovely, Lina,’ Max said with a warm smile.
We hugged goodbye with promises to speak soon, and then I headed inside to my waiting dog.
Chapter Eleven
27th September 2009
The first thing I didn’t like was the carpet.
It was dark grey and ribbed and looked like the kind you could easily burn your knee on if you spent more than a few seconds on your hands and knees. I reminded myself to buy a rug and a new pair of slippers the second I went into town.
The second thing that turned up my nose was the bathroom.
It was more of a wet room with white tiles covering both the floor and all the walls. The only thing separating the shower from the rest of the room was a flimsy paper-thin white curtain, meaning that once you turned on the water, the whole of the bathroom floor ended up like one big puddle.
‘Don’t worry, love, you can brighten the place up once you get your things unpacked,’ Mum said, trying to be positive, but her eyes said everything. She peered around the box room cautiously.
‘You’ll be home most weekends, anyway,’ said Dad with a comforting smile, wrapping his arm around me.
‘I suppose,’ I agreed hesitantly, as I dumped one of my bags onto the bare bed. The mattress was white, and thankfully it was clean. ‘I guess this is just typical student living.’
‘At least you get your own room. Some students aren’t so lucky,’ Dad added.
I smiled. ‘Well, I suppose that’s something.’
I’d ended up coming to university in Leeds. My first choice had always been Winchester, but when we came to look at Leeds, I’d fallen in love with the city. The campus was in the city centre, and so were my halls, meaning I was right in the middle of everything.
It was also only a twenty-minute train journey from Huddersfield, meaning I could see Michael a lot more than I’d been anticipating.
Regardless, it felt strange not being just across the road from him, and we’d still had a teary goodbye that morning before we’d set off in our parents’ cars, which we'd packed to the brim with bags of stuff we probably didn’t need. I’d definitely packed far too many clothes. Especially since I was planning on either going home every weekend or staying at Michael’s in Huddersfield.
Mum sighed. ‘Shall we get started then?’
The three of us spent the next few hours making the standard box-like room into an imitation of a home. Above my bed, we hung a canvas painting of the New York City skyline, and surrounded it with fairy lights I stuck around the edges with Blu Tack. I set several candles upon the large laminate desk next to my tall stack of books, and pinned photos upon the grey noticeboard that hung above it. I hung fairy lights around that, too.
With my lilac quilt covering the bed among cream cushions, and a light brown teddy Michael had given me as a leaving present -I’d named it Mikey- it looked a little cosier. But
there was still work to do. I had to find something to cover the majority of the grey carpet, and I needed more artwork to cover the bare cream walls. I didn’t have much hope for the bathroom, but at least I had my student loan and the overdraft of my student account to pay for what I needed.
‘I suppose that’s everything then,’ Mum said, welling up a little. Her brows were creased, and her blue eyes were shining with tears. She tucked a lock of her honey blonde bob behind her ear.
I smiled, but it was a sad one, and my own eyes watered as it sunk in that I’d left home for the first time. No more morning cups of tea and toast in bed, courtesy of Mum, and no more evenings watching films with Dad while mum flicked through Good Housekeeping magazines or one of her favourite Gill Paul novels. What would all my clothes smell of now, without the apple air fresheners?
‘Oh, Mum!’ I said, swallowing a sob as I threw my arms
around her. ‘Thank you so much for everything. I’m gonna miss you so much.’
‘I’ll ring you when we get back, okay?’ she said through a sniffle as she pulled away and opened her brown handbag in search of a tissue. The slight smell of mint peppered the air; she always carried mints and chewing gum in her bag along with a packet of tissues and umpteen pens ‘just in case’.
I nodded and looked to Dad. He had a proud smile on his face.
‘Come here, sweetheart,’ he said as he opened his arms.
I hugged him tightly, resting my head against his shoulder, taking in that ‘dad’ smell that was Issey Miyaki aftershave. He hadn’t worn anything else for as long as I could remember. ‘I’ll miss you, Dad,’ I said against the lump that grew heavy in my throat. It weighed down the volume of my voice.
‘I’ll miss you too, sweetheart. We’re so proud of you.’ His voice sounded close to breaking too, and when we broke the embrace, I saw his cheeks were flushed red with emotion. His eyes were full of love and pride, and my heart swelled as I looked at my parents.
I was so lucky. They were the best parents anyone could hope for. Not just parents, but friends, confidantes.
I took a deep breath, staring at the door to the communal kitchen. I hadn’t felt this nervous about meeting new people since the day I’d met Michael on our first day at secondary school. Back then I’d thought that by the age of eighteen I’d find situations like this easier. Eighteen seemed so old, so mature. But here I was, sweaty-palmed and dry-mouthed, feeling like an eleven-year-old again.
I could hear voices coming from the other side of the door, and paused for a moment, pressing my ear against the wooden door to listen. I couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, but one of them sounded excited and confident, while the other sounded much softer and calm.
I was being ridiculous.
I was an adult; I’d left home for crying out loud!
Forcing myself to feel confident, I withdrew my cheek from the door and pushed it open. But I pushed a little too hard, and the door ended up slamming against the wall, making the girls that stood in the kitchen jump.
‘Sorry,’ I said quietly, feeling pink creep into my cheeks. I hoped it wasn’t visible beneath my makeup. I felt like such a muppet. ‘I didn’t mean to push it that hard.’
I’d expected the girls to scowl, or perhaps laugh, but instead, they both smiled warmly. It eased my nerves.
I hadn’t tried to befriend girls since Jodie and Amie had
made a mockery of me in Year Eight.
‘Don’t worry,’ one said. She had bright blue eyes and creamy alabaster skin that complemented shiny, raven-dark hair that fell to her waist. ‘I did the same thing about half an hour ago. I think this one is still shaking.’ She nodded to the other girl who smiled shyly.
I smiled a little and walked further into the bland kitchen and living area. It had cream walls, simple wooden cupboards and the living area was a square of that awful, grey ribbed carpet upon which soft, yet uncomfortable looking pale red chairs sat. The arms and legs were wooden and reminded me of something we used to have in the school library. In the corner, by the window that was framed with royal blue curtains, stood a TV that looked at least ten years old.
‘I’m Roanna,’ the dark-haired girl said with a confident smile. She held out her hand for me to shake.
‘Elina,’ I introduced myself, shaking her hand. I hoped it wasn’t too clammy.
‘I’m Katherine, but everyone calls me Kit,’ the other one said in an Irish accent. She didn’t seem as confident as Roanna. Her tone was lower and her expression more reserved. I shook her hand too. She had beautiful auburn waves that reached her elbows, bright emerald eyes, and a splash of freckles spread across her nose and cheeks.
‘Do you fancy a cup of tea, Elina?’ Roanna offered, gesturing to the kettle.
‘Yes,’ I said with a grateful sigh. ‘Two sugars please.’
Over the next few hours, I went on to learn a lot about my two new hall mates.
We’d retreated to Roanna’s bedroom that had far more décor treatment than mine. Her walls were covered in posters of metal bands and gothic art, and she had countless dark-coloured candles stood upon the desk that made the room smell sweet and musky. Her quilt was blood-red, black sequined cushions sat on her bed, and a large dark purple rug covered the majority of the horrible grey carpet. She had music playing low, a band called Sisters of Mercy, she said. I quite liked them.
A little older than us, at twenty, she told Kit and me that she’d taken a couple of gap years since leaving college, and had spent the first year working as a waitress saving up for the year that followed when she’d travelled across Europe by herself. On her trip, she had fallen in love with the continent’s history and culture, which led her to choose a European History degree.
‘Wow, that’s so brave,’ Kit said in awe as she took a sip of her drink.
After two cups of tea, we’d moved onto chocolate wine.
It was just like red wine with a dash of chocolate.
I’d been sceptical of such a thing at first; I’d never really taken to red wine, but it was sweet and drinking it made me feel a bit more grown-up. It was a far cry from the rosé and lemonade I’d had at any previous family gatherings where alcohol was involved. To be honest, I’d never really got into drinking the way other people my age had. Neither had Michael or Max. Max seemed completely pissed after just a couple of beers, and Michael just ended up feeling really sleepy and docile.
‘It’s no big deal,’ Roanna shrugged, but I could tell she was enjoying mine and Kit’s amazement.
‘I could never do it,’ I said. I’d been nervous opening that kitchen door; there was no way I’d be able to get on a plane and leave my family for a whole year. ‘Not on my own anyway. With my boyfriend, perhaps,’ I added. I suddenly had the urge to text him, but I’d left my phone charging in my own room. I was tempted to dash and get it, but I told myself not to. Tonight was about getting to know new people. Michael would understand if I waited another hour or so before sending a message. He’d probably be doing the same thing with his hall mates.
‘Oooh, you’ve got a boyfriend?’ Kit’s eyes lit up, and she grabbed my arm. ‘Me too! I miss him soooo much already!
How long have you been with him?’
‘Ooh gosh, we got together on Valentine’s Day when we were fourteen, so it’ll be five years next February!’ I replied with the same smile that came whenever I spoke about Michael.
‘That’s sooo sweet! I’ve been with mine for just over three years! I was gutted saying goodbye to him last night. He’s gone to uni back in Dublin,’ she finished with a sad sigh.
‘What made you come to England for uni?’ Roanna asked, downing the last of her glass and reaching for the bottle of wine to pour herself a third. Kit and I were still supping slowly at our first.
‘I’ve always planned on coming to England to study. My aunt lives in York, and I loved visiting as a child. It’s gonna be tough being so far from Pete, but if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be, right?’ she said wit
h a dreamy smile.
I nodded, knowing that Michael and I were meant to be, too. ‘What about you, Roanna?’
‘I haven’t had a boyfriend since before I went travelling. I don’t want to spend these years of my life tied down, you know? I want to experience stuff. Do what I want. Who I want,’ she added with a wink. ‘I don’t want my life planned out for me, you know? I want adventure!’ Her eyes beamed with lust for life.
‘Being with Michael has been like an adventure,’ I said,
bringing my knees up and resting my chin on them. ‘I couldn’t imagine being without him.’
Roanna smiled. ‘That’s good. I guess you’re lucky that you found The One so soon. But I’m more than happy for mine to take his time before he gets to me. I’m in no rush.’
It was two in the morning before I went back to my own room, and my heart sank a little when I sat on the bed. I’d enjoyed spending time with Kit and Roanna; they were lovely girls. Roanna had so many stories to tell, and Kit was sweet and kind. But I missed Michael. I missed him so much that at that moment I had no idea how I was going to go three years without him.
I felt a bit dizzy; I’d probably had too much wine, and I stumbled a little as I took the two steps to my desk and unplugged my phone from its charger. There were three missed calls from Michael and one text message.
‘Miss you, darling. Hope you’re having a good night. Talk tomorrow. Xxxxx,’ his message read. It had been sent just over an hour ago.
I hated that I’d missed his calls, so I called back right away. When he didn’t answer, I called a second time. And then a third.
When he didn’t answer any of them, a tear slipped from my eye, and a yearning to hear his voice overwhelmed me. I didn’t try again; I simply tapped out a message back to him.
‘Sorry I missed your calls, babe. My phone was charging, and I was chatting with the girls in my halls. They seem nice. I hope you’ve had a good night too. Miss you loads, I can’t wait to see you again already! Xxxxx.’
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