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Chapter 37

Holly, Melbourne

‘What are you doing today?’ Adam asks, rinsing his cereal bowl and placing it in the dishwasher.

I shrug.

He gives me a fed-up sigh and crosses his arms.

I make a face. ‘What?’

‘You can’t stay indoors and mope every day, Holly. The funeral was a month ago, and you’ve barely stepped outside.’

‘I’ve been out,’ I shoot back.

‘You went to the shop on Monday to grab some milk and that’s only because Meg and I were frantic with the kids.’

‘Well, sorry for being devastated that Mum died.’

He stares at me a beat, like he can’t believe I said that. ‘I’m devastated too. She was also my mum. But Meg and I have a lot of stuff to deal with – the business, the kids, Meg’s job, the house. None of that stops because Mum isn’t here anymore. If you’re going to stay here, we need you to help.’

I open my mouth to defend myself, but he continues.

‘Maybe you need to talk to someone to help you deal with what’s happened. I need to deal with it by getting on with things.’ He grabs his car keys from the bench. ‘And whatever happened with that chick in Berlin or London or wherever, bloody sort it out. And while you’re at it, can you reply to Tom? I’m sick of getting messages from him every five minutes asking about you.’ He raises his eyebrows at me waiting for my response.

Chastised, I bow my head. ‘No need to rip me to shreds. It’s been a hard time, okay?’

‘It has for all of us, Holly. But sitting around staring at your phone isn’t going to make it easier or make the hurt go away.’ His tone doesn’t soften. ‘We’ve been leaving you alone because you’ve had a tough time, but we can’t keep looking after you like this. We’re falling apart too. Can you do some stuff to help out today, please?’

‘What do you want me to do?’ I ask in a small voice.

‘First, if you need to, speak to someone about Mum or book an appointment with a therapist or something. You know I’m not good with that stuff. I can’t help. Then, can you go to the real estate and see what’s happening with Mum’s house? It was supposed to go on the market this week. And we need some groceries.’ He jerks his chin towards a piece of paper on the kitchen bench. ‘There’s the list.’

‘Righto. Geez.’

‘See you tonight, and you’ll be helping with dinner.’ He heads for the back door as Meg walks into the kitchen pulling her hair up into a top knot and glancing between us. ‘And fucken call that English chick so you stop being miserable,’ Adam says. ‘Or if you’re sticking around here, look for a job.’

‘Adam…’ Meg says, but he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

I gape out the window as he strides across the backyard towards the garage. Has it been a month since the funeral? Have I been that obvious about Casey? I search my mind for any evidence that I’ve been helping Adam and Meg and getting on with my life, but all I see is me lying in bed or on the couch, dressed in pyjamas or the same old pair of grey trackpants, scrolling through photos of Mum and Dad or Casey and stalking Eva’s Instagram.

I face Meg. ‘I’m sorry.’

She rushes over to me, pulling me into a hug. ‘He’s just upset and trying to deal with things his own way.’

I cling to her. ‘I’m in the way.’

‘You’re not.’ She releases me. ‘You’re welcome here as long as you want.’

‘He’s right, though. I probably need to look for a job. Find someone to talk to about Mum.’

‘Only if you’re ready,’ she says.

The thought of getting on with life makes my body deflate. ‘Everything’s so hard and unfair.’

‘You’ll be okay, Holly. You just need some time,’ Meg says gently.

Time. The answer to everything. ‘I’ll get those groceries for you.’