Page 4 of Life After Me

Matty

Something inside me just snapped. I couldn’t bear the tension and sadness in the house anymore.

It was getting so bad that the air was starting to vibrate with pain and anger, and bring out the worst in us all.

Lately Dad and I don’t seem to be able to talk to each other without arguing.

About anything. Even working out what to have for dinner and who should wash up sparked another row.

You would have thought a company solicitor used to dealing with sensitive situations would be able to manage his temper a bit better, but I swear when I’m around Dad at the moment I feel like I’m reverting to my teenage self.

It wasn’t pretty the first time around, and with all the stress of what’s happened to Mum, I seem to be permanently on the edge of another row.

It was getting to the point that even Lottie couldn’t keep the peace between us, and that’s not fair. I’m four years older than her, and I’m supposed to look after my little sister. The last thing she needed was to see her dad and brother at each other’s throats.

Lottie’s always got upset when people argued around her, ever since she was little.

Dad and I had been squabbling over something so stupid I forgot what it was almost immediately, and then I caught the look on Lottie’s face, and I realised I couldn’t bear to hurt her any more.

So I just upped and left. I didn’t even remember to throw on a coat or change my shoes, which turned out to be a mistake.

But I really didn’t care. I just had to be moving.

It was freezing cold and icy underfoot, and my breath steamed in the air around me, but I ignored it. The weather was much colder back in Edinburgh, so I thought a bit of English frost was nowhere near as bad as what I was used to. I shouldn’t have been so arrogant.

I started to run almost as soon as I turned the corner. I hadn’t gone for a run in ages, and jeans and boots weren’t exactly the comfiest clothes for running, but it felt so good. Every time my foot slammed into the pavement I squashed another angry thought and forced back another wave of tears.

I was heading for the shops, thinking that I could be cheeky and cut across the park the way I did when I was younger.

But I only made it as far as the park gate before I hit a patch of black ice, and my feet skidded out from underneath me.

There was a strange moment of weightless freefall, and then I was flat out with my back grumbling in bruised protest.

I was completely disorientated and for a few heartbeats, all I saw were stars.

They twinkled down, laughing at my expense.

I glared up at them angrily, furious that they were so cheerful when my world was falling apart all around me.

Didn’t they know Mum had died and that nothing in my life was ever going to be the same again?

The cold seeped through to my skin, and I tried to stand, but my feet skidded again. I ended up sitting on my arse in a puddle of icy slush. Dark humour filled me as I realised Mum would be laughing herself sick at me right now. I started to laugh, and laughed harder as the stars seemed to join in.

My phone vibrated and I wriggled it out of my pocket. Lucy flashed on the screen. My sweet, wonderful Lucy.

‘Hi honey.’ Her voice filled me with warmth, even over the phone when she was hundreds of miles away. ‘How are you doing?’

‘So-so I guess.’

‘You sound strange, are you all right?’

‘Yeah, no. Yeah. I’m fine.’

‘Make that really strange, are you sure you’re all right?’ Lucy’s voice was filled with concern. ‘Where are you?’

‘Sitting in a puddle, since you asked.’

‘What? Are you sure you’re OK?’

‘It’s all right, I’m fine. Really. Lucy, I’m fine,’ I tried to reassure her.

‘I’m sorry I’m not there with you . . .’

‘It’s all right, I understand. You can’t just drop everything.’

‘I wish I could be there, though.’

‘I know. And I love you for that. Hang on a minute.’ I struggled back to my feet. ‘Sorry, just crawling out of the puddle.’

‘What?’ Lucy laughed, and for a moment the world didn’t seem quite so dark.

‘Nothing, it’s all right. I’m all right. I promise.’

‘Good, that’s all I needed to know. So, why were you sitting in a puddle?’ I could hear her trying not to laugh.

‘Well it seemed like the sensible thing to do. I needed to cool off.’

‘Matthew...’ There was a warning tone in her voice. I sighed. Lucy’s always been really good at refusing to let me get away with some things, especially talking about stuff.

‘Dad and I had another argument. I can’t even remember what it was about this time. Something stupid and silly and pointless. Oh Lucy.’ I scrubbed my eyes with my free hand. ‘I just don’t know how to talk to him. Not about this.’

‘You talk to me. How is it any different?’

‘I don’t know. It just is. It’s my dad. He doesn’t really talk to me. He never has. When I needed to talk to someone when I was growing up, I always went to Mum.’

‘But your mum isn’t here anymore, sweetheart. You have to talk to your dad. You, he and Lottie need each other so much right now.’

‘I know. But he’s so angry all the time.’ I started to walk again, taking care to avoid any more ice. ‘It’s like he blames her for leaving, and is angry at me for being here.’

‘But that’s sort of natural isn’t it? Don’t people often get angry when someone dies suddenly?’

‘I guess. But angry at me? It’s so bloody stupid.’

‘I said it was natural, not that it made sense.’

I paused. I was almost at the shops. ‘I don’t know how to get past his anger, Lucy.’

‘I know you don’t.’ She sighed quietly. ‘But you have to find a way to reach him. I know you can do it.’

‘What makes you so certain?’

‘Because I know you, Matthew Hughes. You’re not going to give up. You’ll work out how to talk to him. And if you don’t, when I get down there, I’ll knock both of your heads together.’

I laughed and set off again. ‘Thanks Luce. I’ll call you later.’

‘OK. Speak to you later. Love you.’

‘Love you too.’ I slid my phone back into my pocket and crossed the road.

I glanced at my reflection in a shop window, and twisted to see how badly my unplanned skating session had messed up my clothes.

Something in the store caught my eye, and I found myself grinning idiotically at my own reflection.

Maybe I did know how to get through to Dad after all.

* * *

Lottie

My brother’s lost it. He’s totally and utterly insane.

He was having yet another stupid argument with Dad, and then he turned and looked at me.

He froze for a few seconds, and then stormed out.

He just disappeared. He didn’t take his coat or keys with him, and it’s freezing.

I tried his phone half a dozen times, but it just rang out. Clearly he didn’t want to talk to me.

Then finally, after I’d worried myself sick, he strolled back in.

He had sludge and ice all down his back, and a bottle of whisky in his hand, but he just grinned and shrugged as if having a huge row over who had eaten the last biscuit and then disappearing for an hour in the freezing cold was a completely normal and sane thing to do.

But I have to admit, it did work.

Once Dad stopped complaining and started drinking, all the anger and hatred seemed to fall away, and he finally started to talk to us. It was awful and painful, but in a weird way, nice as well.

I hadn’t realised why Dad was so angry, but once he started to talk, it all began to make sense.

Mum’s death had really hit me. Parents are supposed to be indestructible and untouchable.

They’re not supposed to die when you’re still young and still building your life, so losing Mum really messed me up, but I’d had no idea how badly it affected Dad.

I’d selfishly been thinking about myself and worrying about what I was going to do, but I’d not totally realised that in losing Mum, Dad had lost the centre of his universe.

He and Mum had been together since they were teenagers, which is just about forever.

Even trying to imagine how he was feeling made me want to cry all over again.

It was nice to talk about everything properly. And I was so relieved to see Dad and Matty finally get past their anger and start communicating. I’d really been starting to worry about them both. But it finally looked like the rift was starting to heal.

When I crept back from the bathroom, I paused by the door and listened; all I could hear was silence.

I took a deep breath and opened the door, worried that I’d find the spell broken, and that they’d be glaring at each other from opposite sides of the room again.

But instead, Dad was on his hands and knees in front of the TV, and Matty was digging around the sofa cushions.

‘What’s going on?’

‘We’re putting on a film. Except Dad’s lost the remote again.’ Matty rolled his eyes.

‘I didn’t lose it,’ Dad complained.

‘Well who did then? It didn’t exactly grow legs and walk away.’

‘Umm... you’re putting on a film? Now?’ I still wasn’t sure what was going on.

‘Sure, why not? It’s Friday night and we’re all here. That means movie night.’

‘Or it will be if I can find the bloody remote,’ Dad added grumpily.

‘I guess I’ll make some popcorn then.’ I shrugged and headed to the kitchen. ‘By the way, the remote’s on the windowsill behind Mum’s chair.’