All I Have Left of You

by Laura Daniels

  ‘There’s someone else I’d like to thank as well,’ Dave went on. ‘Michael, I’d like to thank you for being such an amazing and inspirational son. I am so proud of you, and when I look at you and Lina, I am reminded of your mother and me when we were your age, fresh out of our studies with the whole world at our feet. But there is something we had that you don’t.

  ‘Now, when my wife asked me some months ago what I’d like for my fiftieth birthday, I struggled to think of an answer. I have been fortunate enough to have a career that has given me the finances to enjoy my life. So, after weeks of pondering over watches, cruises around the Mediterranean or city breaks to Rome and Athens, I finally decided what I wanted.’ He paused and looked to Michael and me with a heartfelt look on his face. ‘What I wanted more than anything was to give my children what I had. You see, when Lydia and I were young, we were able to buy a house. But today’s economic climate means that this goal is much more difficult to achieve.’ He paused, and Michael and I exchanged frowns. ‘So, what I’m saying, Michael, is for my fiftieth birthday, I’d like to give you and Elina a home. I want to give you the deposit for a mortgage.’ Dave finished with a huge grin.

  Everyone clapped and looked towards us.

  My heart was pounding. Had that just happened?

  I turned to Michael, and he looked just as shocked as I felt. ‘Jesus,’ he mouthed.

  A part of me jumped with excitement, but the other part told me we couldn’t accept it. It was too much, wasn’t it?

  ‘So, will you two accept my offer?’ Dave asked us a couple of hours later.

  The sun had just set, and the fairy lights in the trees and on the fences gleamed brightly. The garden looked like an enchanted forest. Michael and I were sat together in a hammock that hung between two willow trees, swinging gently.

  ‘Dad,’ Michael began. ‘It’s a generous offer, but I just don’t know if we can take it from you. It’s so much.’

  Dave smiled. ‘I’ve worked hard all my life, son. I didn’t do it for me. I did it for you, and your mum. Genevieve.’ His smile faded. ‘I want to give you this, son. I want to see the two of you start your lives. You’re ready. What do you think, Lina?’

  I smiled. ‘I think you’re an incredibly generous man, and I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am for this offer.’

  Dave’s smile widened again, wrinkles scrunching around his brown eyes, and he looked back to his son. ‘Is that a yes? Please, son. Let me do this for you.’

  After a while, Michael beamed. ‘Okay, Dad. Yes. You can buy us a house!’

  Dave laughed and reached out to embrace his son. ‘Yes! Brilliant, son!’

  ‘Michael laughed too, tearing up as he hugged his dad.

  ‘Happy Birthday, Dad.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  13th January 2014

  We loved it the second we walked in.

  We loved the hardwood floors, the brick walls, the wooden beams that hung from the ceiling. It was everything we’d been looking for, but we didn’t realise it until we walked through the door for the first time.

  We were home.

  We’d been looking for a place since November, but each house or flat we’d seen just hadn’t felt right. Some had been too big which made the place feel empty and cold; others had been too small, making me feel cramped and claustrophobic. Some had been lovely but weren’t quite us. They didn’t have any quirks, and you could guarantee that each flat either side was more or less exactly the same.

  But this one, we loved.

  It was in an up-and-coming neighbourhood in Manchester city centre. We’d initially been looking for a house, but this flat had stolen our hearts. The building itself was an old factory that had been transformed into quirky apartments.

  The front door opened into the spacious living room, which had beautiful big windows straight ahead, boasting a marvellous view of the city. It would be a great place to put a writing desk. I could sit and watch as the city went about its day and take inspiration from its many tapestries.

  The kitchen was open-plan to the left of the living room with modern white cabinets and glossy worktops, and next to French doors that led to a balcony, was a dining area. I couldn’t wait to eat all my meals there and watch the sun setting and rising. It was perfect for us.

  To perfect the flat, a door beside the kitchen led to a spacious master bedroom with an en-suite bathroom which boasted a waterfall shower, and marble walls and floors. We even had a spare room for guests!

  We were finally able to move in in the middle of January. By then my internship had finished, and I’d already written a couple of freelance articles, though I hadn’t submitted any of them anywhere yet. I’d got a job working in a café-bookshop for a bit of money, and Michael had recently earned himself a promotion at work. We were just about able to make ends meet, and my parents had agreed to help us out financially with furniture. Dave and Lydia had offered too, but my dad had insisted that they helped instead.

  So, here we were, decorating our first home.

  We left the brick walls as they were in the living room, and hung floor-length grey curtains in all the windows. Our sofa was an L-shape charcoal piece that you could sink in, and I’d fallen asleep on it most nights since we’d moved in. We hung a TV on the wall above a fake fireplace, in the corners we put potted plants, and white wooden bookcases and cabinets lined the walls.

  We covered the sofa in cream throws and cushions and put a large cream rug beneath the sofa and wooden coffee table upon which sat cream pillar candles and a framed photograph of Michael and I. The picture had been taken at Dave’s fiftieth as a reminder that he was responsible for all of this.

  In the bedroom, we painted the walls cream aside from the one behind the bed that we left brick. We bought a few different sets of bedding in different colours for different seasons, and at the moment we had on a red and blue checked set. It was brushed cotton and made going to bed feel like sleeping on a cloud. The spare bedroom, we had left empty for now, not knowing quite yet what to do with it.

  Our own life had begun, just Michael and me.

  ‘Do you fancy going for a drive later on?’ Michael asked one evening in late January when we’d been living in our new home for a couple of weeks. We sat at the dining table, looking out at the sparkling lights of the city.

  I frowned and took another bite of my seafood risotto. It

  had made from scratch, and it was bloody gorgeous. Michael had made a batch big enough for three nights, but I was already halfway through my second bowl. ‘A drive? Where to?’

  ‘I thought we could check out Max’s new place,’ Michael said casually, as he took a sip of his white wine.

  After living in his dingy hole for a few months, Max had started renting a house near our old high school, just a couple of streets away from my mum and dad. It was the family of rats living beneath the floorboards of his kitchen that had been the last straw and forced him to move out.

  I smiled. ‘Yeah, okay.’

  Michael grinned. ‘Great, I’ve picked up some champagne for him as a housewarming present.’

  We set off about an hour later in Michael’s Ford Fiesta, his Don Mclean CD playing low in the background. He sang along happily, belting out the lyrics to American Pie so loud I could barely even hear the actual song. It was his favourite, and it had been for years.

  ‘Do you remember our first kiss?’ Michael said, taking a break from singing in that out of tune way of his.

  I smiled, and the warm memory of our very first kiss came back to me. ‘Of course, I do. It was one of the most exciting moments of my life.’

  ‘This song was playing,’ Michael reminded me.

  ‘Oh yes,’ I said, remembering. ‘The Killers were playing before that. Wait, is this why you love this song so much?’

  Michael’s smile was full of love, and he nodded. ‘Yep. I’d fancied you for ages. I was so jealous that James was going to try and kiss you that night.’

  I laugh
ed. ‘He sure thought a lot of himself back then. I would never have kissed him. I only had eyes for you. Still do.’ I reached across and squeezed Michael’s thigh. ‘I wonder what he’s doing these days.’

  ‘He added me on Facebook a little while ago. He’s got two kids with Jodie Barber,’ he said.

  My jaw dropped. ‘Oh my god!’ Twenty-three was technically a normal age to have children, but I still felt so young. I couldn’t believe that someone my age already had two! ‘She was awful,’ I said, remembering the incident with the makeup.

  Michael nodded. ‘She was indeed. Ah, here we are.’

  I looked out of the window. We were parked outside our old school. ‘Why are we parked here? It’s a bit cold to walk to Max’s. I’m sure there’s somewhere to park outside his house.’ I wore my pyjama bottoms beneath my jeans, but still, it was freezing.

  ‘We’re not going to Max’s,’ he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. His smile was mischievous. ‘Well, at least not yet

  anyway.’

  I smiled curiously. ‘Mr Mills, what on earth are we doing outside our old high school at eight o’ clock on a Friday night?’

  Michael dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a large ring of keys.

  My eyes went wide, and my jaw dropped. ‘Surely, they’re not the keys for the…’ I trailed off.

  ‘School. Yes,’ Michael beamed. ‘I got them from Max. Thought it’d be fun to go inside and see the old place. What do you say?’

  I couldn’t help but laugh, and suddenly the idea of doing something we weren’t supposed to excited me. Butterflies jumped in my tummy. ‘I think you’re crazy, Michael Mills, but if you’re going in there, I’m following you.’

  The corridors were dark, lit only by the green emergency exit signs and the light that plumed from the torches of our phones. They were silent too; our laughter bounced from the walls, and the heels of my boots clunked on the hard floor.

  Not much had changed in the few years since we had left, but it felt so different, like it had been a million years, and a sense of nostalgia filled me. I saw myself as an eleven-year-old, wandering these corridors for the first time, anxiety flooding through my bones as I remembered Mum had taken the book out of my school bag. I saw myself as a twelve-year-old as I walked past the Year Eight toilets, humiliated and distraught by bullies that had painted my face.

  But I didn’t allow those raw feelings of sadness to overcome me. I didn’t need to. I had Michael. Those feelings were distant and far away, and so was the girl I’d been back then.

  I squeezed Michael’s hand.

  ‘Here we are,’ Michael said when we came to our old form room. ‘The room where we first met.’ He smiled at me for a long, lingering moment, and then he took the keys out of his pocket to open the door. He found the right key straight away, and I wondered how on earth he’d known which one it was. There were probably close to a hundred different keys on that ring.

  The door opened with a squeak and a click, and we went inside.

  It was cold and dark, and silver moonlight shone through the windows, casting shadows of trees across the desks. The layout was still the same as it had been all those years ago, set out in twos. Some of the same Shakespeare posters still stuck to the walls, but they'd faded with time.

  On one wall was a display of essays, and as I looked at

  the unfamiliar names on the pages, I wondered what the people behind them were like and how they were navigating the troublesome world of adolescence. Were they like me, a little shy and awkward? Were they like Michael, outgoing and friendly, or were they like Jodie and Amie, mean and cruel?

  ‘Weird being back isn’t it?’ Michael said behind me.

  I turned away from the essays on Much Ado About Nothing and fixed my gaze on Michael. He was smiling. It was a smile I didn’t think I’d seen before. He looked so happy, so hopeful. The moon cast off the left side of his face and his brown eyes sparkled, even in the darkness.

  I reached up to touch his face, gently stroking his stubbly jaw with my fingers.

  ‘It’s strange, in some ways it feels like yesterday that I met you in here, yet in others, it feels like it was in a different lifetime,’ I said softly.

  Michael gave me a crooked smile. ‘I know what you mean,’ he said. He pulled his backpack from his back and walked over to our old desk where he opened it on the table. He took out two plastic champagne flutes and a bottle of bubbly.

  ‘Aren’t we saving that for Max?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, that’s the thing, Lina,’ Michael began lightly as he popped the champagne open. White bubbles flowed over his wrist, and he poured us a glass each before shaking his hand, sending droplets to the floor. ‘I’m afraid I’ve led you astray. I’ve brought you here under false pretences.’

  I laughed. ‘Oh, you have, have you?’ I closed the distance between us, but he took a step back and held out a hand, a gesture for me to stay where I was. I stopped, frowning. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Michael grinned from ear to ear. ‘Nothing. Nothing is wrong, Elina Lawrence.’ He rarely used my full name. ‘Nothing is wrong because I have you. I will never forget the moment I walked into this classroom and saw you for the first time. You were sat right here, fumbling in your bag for your pencil case, and when you looked up at me, and I saw those blue eyes sparkling, I had to stop myself from saying ‘wow’. Your eyes weren’t just beautiful, but they had something behind them, so much more than I’d seen in anyone our age. You were different.’ He paused. His beautiful words made my heart soar, and my eyes were wet with tears. He got down on one knee and gestured for me to join him on the ground. I did so without hesitation. He picked up his phone that still had the torch lit, and poked his head beneath the table. ‘Look, here,’ he said, shining the light on the underside of the table. I lowered my head and followed the light.

  My heart jumped, and warmth spread across my stomach.

  Amongst the old bits of chewing gum, and names written in Tippex and thick black marker was a jagged heart that had been carved into the table with something. ‘Michael 4 Elina. I.D.S.T 4eva,’ was written inside it.

  ‘I did that at the beginning of Year Eight with my compass,’ Michael laughed. We both withdrew our heads from beneath the table and looked at each other, kneeling on the floor. ‘I’m surprised it’s still there.’

  I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. ‘I didn’t even know you’d done it.’

  ‘It was there all along,’ Michael whispered. ‘My love for you was there long before you knew it, Elina. And I’ve been planning this for a very long time.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Something that made my heart skip a beat, and sent my hands to cover my mouth in delighted shock.

  A small, red velveteen box.

  ‘I want to ask you something, Elina. Something I’ve wanted to ask you for a very long time, since the moment I first set eyes on you, in this very room.’ His voice was so soft and gentle, his smile so warm and tender, so him.

  ‘You do?’ I said. I was already sobbing.

  He let out a light laugh, and tears glistened in his chocolate eyes. He slowly opened the box, and a sparkling ring stared up at me. It was a white gold band with a beautiful sapphire sitting in it. ‘Elina Lawrence, will you make me the happiest man in the world, and be my wife?’

  ‘Yes! Yes!’ I answered the second he stopped speaking and threw my arms around his neck. He laughed, holding me in arms that felt like home.

  I was walking on air, tears streamed down my face, no doubt streaking whatever was left of my makeup, but I didn’t care. Only one thing mattered. Michael had asked me to marry him!

  ‘You’ve made me so happy, Lina!’ he said into my neck.

  ‘I don’t think you’ve any idea how happy you’ve made me,’ I sobbed through ecstatic laughter. I hadn’t thought it possible to be ao happy.

  ‘Stop strangling me and let me put your ring on, you muppet,’ he chuckled.

  I withdrew my arms from around his neck and watched a
s he slowly slid the ring onto the fourth finger of my left hand.

  ‘Wow,’ I said as I stared at it.

  ‘Yeah,’ Michael said. ‘Wow.’

  I tore my glance from the sparkle of the ring and looked up at an even better sight. Staring into Michael’s eyes, I said, ‘I’m so lucky I get to grow old with my best friend.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  1st August 2019

  Time without Michael: 1 Year, 7 Months, 15 Days

  It was nice not coming home to an empty apartment after my trip to London with Lydia. We’d spent a bit of the next day looking around the museums and a few shops before catching the train home just before rush hour when things got a bit more hectic.

  I got back at around six and came home to the fragrant smell of cooking.

  ‘Hey!’ Max beamed when I came inside. Indie looked up beside him and dashed over to me.

  Max stood in the kitchen over the hob, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder. ‘You’re just in time. The paella will be ready in about ten minutes.’

  ‘You made paella?’ I said in awe as I crouched down to hug Indie and scratch behind her ears. ‘I’ve missed you,’ I cooed as she happily panted.

  ‘Yeah. I know you love it and I thought I’d make you something special as a thank you for letting me stay here even though I can’t pay you any rent.’

  I smiled, and my heart warmed. ‘That’s very sweet of you, Max.’ Getting to my feet, I looked around the apartment and wrinkled my nose. ‘Did you tidy up and clean too?’

  Max nodded, smiling. ‘Yeah. I was at it all day yesterday. Just another way of thanking you.’

  ‘Thanks. I’d been dreading that the whole way home. That was going to be my chore either tonight or tomorrow,’ I said, relieved, as I left my bags by the door and wandered over to the kitchen with Indie in tow. ‘Wine?’ I took two glasses from the cupboard.

  ‘Yeah. I think there’s a bottle of white in the fridge.’

  I took the wine from the fridge and poured us both a glass.