“Although if Jack Mathews wants to watch me, I’m down with that.” She lifts her top up flashing her breasts. “Hi, Jack! If you want a closer look, feel free to come over.”
I roll my eyes. “I think everyone on the London Eye saw that.” We both stare down at the phone while it continues buzzing.
Her eyes go wide. “He’s persistent.”
Before I can stop her, she answers. “Tristan. Hi, she’s here.” She puts the phone on speaker and hands it over.
I narrow my eyes mouthing ‘what the hell’ at her.
“Check your bag, Elly,” Tristan’s gravelly voice demands over the phone.
“What?”
“Check your bag,” he repeats. “The side pocket where you stashed your mum’s pills. Check it now.”
I scan the living room for the bag, spotting it under a heap of Megan’s bras on the sofa. In silence I fumble with the zipper and push my hand into the side pocket.
“Did you find it?” he demands.
I stare down at the full bottle of pills in my hands, confused. “But-”
“It wasn’t your fault. I’m so sorry, Elly,” he says gruffly. “Daniel admitted he took them from Gemina. He saw his mother take them all the time and wanted to try them.
I fall back onto the sofa as Megan gasps beside me. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t cause Daniel’s overdose. Guilt lifts from my shoulders like a heavy weight.
“I love you, Elly.”
My face screws up in tears as I hang up.
Megan watches me, wide-eyed. “What are you going to do?”
I look out at the iconic London skyline and know what I need. “I’m going home.”
32
Elly
Almost a week passes, and it is the longest I’ve spent at home with Mum since before I started university. We needed this time together. She was distraught when she found out I was in hospital. When she visited, I realised how much I needed her and remembered the times when I was younger that she would look after me when I was in a flare-up.
It became evident to me that she cared about my life, she just didn’t ask me questions because she didn’t know what to ask. My visits became fleeting and I always had one eye on the clock checking the train. If I’m honest, I treated going home like a chore. So, the visits grew shorter and the conversations more superficial until the bond between us was so strained we simply didn’t know each other as people anymore.
Today, we spent the afternoon at a spa setting up an online profile for her on a serious dating website and trawling through suitable candidates for dates.
I told her all about my job and life in London, of the perils of living in a house-share and how expensive London is for a new grad. To my surprise, she thought my London life was high-flying and glam with parties every night.
We reviewed her Valium tapering-off schedule from the doctor and have planned something fun every two weeks as a milestone. We’ve arranged for her to visit me in London (God knows where I’ll find a space for her to sleep) and we’ve booked flights to Croatia.
I spoke to Tristan on the phone once. He wanted to give me an update on the case. Turns out I was right that there was something off with Maria. She did know the girls that were trafficked. In fact she was an instrumental part of the operation and even took a cut of the profits. If there’s one person you shouldn’t withhold information from, it’s your lawyer. And your anaesthesiologist. No good can come from either. Madison Legal withdrew from the case and Maria was sent on a flight back to Colombia where she stands trial for murder and now numerous counts of sex-trafficking. Some part of me takes satisfaction that I detected the anomalies in her statements.
Mum suggests walking the long way home from the bus stop. All afternoon, we meandered from hot room to cold room, steam room, ice room, mood shower, plunge pool…until we looked like two prunes. I had been steamed, rubbed and wrapped more times than a turkey getting prepped for dinner.
For the first time since the mother of all flare-ups, I felt ready to enter the real world again. Madison Legal insisted I take all the leave I need but I wanted to get back to normality. Besides, Megan complained that the apartment was smarter than her, and still thinks Jack Mathews is spying on her.
I’ve had two more counselling sessions and it’s slowly helping. I’ve slept better this week in Wales.
I’m surprised Mum suggested walking the long way home since it involves climbing up a savage hill.
“It’s got a great view.” She gasps for air as we ascend. “I needed some fresh air today.”
I look at her dubiously. Usually I have to drag her up a hill kicking and screaming. Today she seems intent in going this way even if it gives her a collapsed lung.
The cottage comes into view, my cottage as I like to call it even though I’ve no claim on it. Now everything about it reminds me of the happy memories of that weekend with Tristan.
Which makes me sad.
I miss him. I miss everything about him. Old impulses die hard. Every night I still think about him before I go to sleep. Every day he sends me little messages in Greek, Croatian, Welsh, Gaelic, most of the time slightly wrong. Superficial messages asking me how my day was or was the weather nice in Wales. Nothing further.
At least I no longer feel guilty about drugging his son.
We stop at the top of the hill just outside the cottage so Mum can catch her breath. I lie down in the grass and close my eyes. I sleep so well in Wales. Gone are the London sirens, drunkards returning home, early bin men, constant traffic, shagging foxes and coughing, sneezing, grunting, snoring humans. I call it ‘the sounds of London’ CD. I could dose off.
“Elly.”
I think I’m imagining it at first. Sometimes I hear his voice in my head.
But then a shadow looms over me and I smell that familiar scent that makes my heart hammer in my chest.
“Tristan?” I snap open my eyes in shock and headbutt him.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
I’m too surprised to apologise. “What are you doing here?”
Mum has crept over to the cottage garden and is pretending to be fascinated by the daffodils.
He holds out a hand and I take it, stunned, as he lifts me to my feet.
He stares down at me with that deep blue gaze that has haunted my dreams every night since I met him. “I can’t stay away any longer, Elly. It’s killing me.”
We stand frozen, staring at each other. My heart is in my throat. Only once have I seen him look this serious, and that was when Daniel overdosed.