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21

TWO WEEKS AGO

The urge to get home was almost overwhelming. As she watched the locket disappear into the water, she felt a terrible lurch of loneliness. What was she doing here? Why had she decided it was best to come alone? And Tom. Had he really been here? Had it all been in her head?

Before Tom died, she hadn’t thought much about whether or not there was an afterlife. There was a vague sense of ‘heaven’ or ‘somewhere better’ that she’d imagined when her grandparents had died, but all of that stuff hadn’t seemed to apply to her, in her twenties and only just at the start of things.

Then after Tom had died, she’d felt for a long time as if he was still with her. She’d spoken to him, believed she’d seen signs – a white feather outside her front door, a book falling open on a certain page. All the things she’d seen other people do when they were in grief had become her things.

That wishful thinking had disappeared over the dark months that followed and it was only recently she’d begun to see him again. Something both welcome and terrifying at once. Stress, her GP had said. But how could it be? She’d convinced herself it was her fault – that she hadn’t scattered his ashes as she’d promised. And could only think of one way to end it, to say goodbye. Here, in the place that had come to mean everything.

Feeling hot, she raced along the streets, upsetting one or two meandering tourists as she pushed past them in her haste. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and called Will. But her call went to voicemail.

‘Stupid, stupid,’ she muttered to herself as she turned the final corner and saw the cheap facade of her hotel. She shouldn’t have come alone, should have accepted Sam’s offer, or Libby’s. She’d been afraid of their judgement, and had wanted – she realised now – to indulge her fantasy of Tom appearing by her side. Had she been mad? Had he been there? She shook her head; now wasn’t the time.

She scrolled her numbers and walked into the foyer of the Cler, phone clamped to her ear. Thankfully, Libby answered after two rings.

‘Hi, sweetheart.’

‘Libby,’ Sophie coughed out the name in a dry sob.

‘OK, OK, calm down, Soph,’ her friend’s voice switched to serious. ‘I take it you’ve… done the deed?’

She nodded, but of course Libby couldn’t see her. ‘Mm,’ she managed.

‘OK. Well, well done. It was never going to be easy, was it, that final goodbye.’

‘I know.’ Her voice was almost a whisper. She pressed the button to call the lift, squeezing her eyes with her thumb and middle finger, making coloured shapes dance in her vision.

‘So. You’ve just got to concentrate on coming home now. Are you all packed for tomorrow?’

‘I think I’m going to come tonight. I can’t stay. I know it’s late but…’

Libby, in the practical way that she always did, took this news on board. ‘Right, no problem,’ she said. ‘Let me sort the ticket. You just get yourself ready.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And…’ Libby paused, as if thinking about whether to go on. ‘Tom isn’t there any more?’

‘He’s gone,’ she said, her words coming out surprisingly loudly as she exited the lift. A woman putting her card into the reader on her room’s door looked up at her briefly, then vanished into her room.

‘Well, good. That’s good.’ Libby said, soothing.

Sophie let herself into her room, phone still at her ear. The room looked empty, stark, devoid of any personality. Her bag, her trainers, the keys on the bedside table were the only evidence it had ever been inhabited. She sat on the bed and slipped off her sandals, feeling a sense of relief as her hot feet touched the soft carpet. ‘Is it?’ she said.

‘Now, come on.’

‘I know.’ Sophie wiped a tear from her eye. ‘I’m just all over the place. I thought I’d be fine. I should be fine by now, right?’

Libby was silent for a moment. ‘I don’t think there’s any should about these things,’ she said. ‘I still miss my nan. And I know it’s not the same, because you kind of grow up knowing that you’re going to lose your grandparents, don’t you? But it was still a shock somehow. And some days I don’t think about her at all. Other days…’

‘You can’t stop?’ suggested Sophie.

‘Exactly. So call this what it is – a bad day. A day of grief. And maybe it was inevitable. You were saying goodbye to… well, a lot. Him, of course. Part of your life, too.’

‘A shit part,’ she said, half laughing.

‘No,’ Libby said. ‘I mean, I’m not saying that none of that time was shit. Finding out about Tom was… well, it was right down there. And the baby stuff. Really tough. But you had some good times, too. Maybe think about those.’

‘Yes,’ Sophie sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. ‘You’re right.’

‘Damn straight, I’m right!’ her best friend said, sounding more invigorated somehow. ‘Come on, Soph. Get yourself sorted, get yourself home and then you can have a good cry on my shoulder or Will’s, or both if you like.’

‘OK,’ Sophie said, obediently. ‘I will. And Libby?’

‘Yes?’

‘Thanks. You know. For being there.’

‘Pfft, what am I for, if not to pick you up and set you back on the tracks. You’d do the same for me.’

It was hard to imagine Libby ever needing that sort of reset – she was practical, successful in her role as a curator in an art gallery and seemed completely unbreakable. But she was right: Sophie would do the same for her if there were ever a need.

She ended the call and was about to start clearing her debris from around the room when her phone flashed again. Will.

‘Hi,’ she said, her voice steadier than when she’d tried to call him earlier.

‘Hi, you,’ he said, his voice warm and so welcome in her ear. ‘All OK?’

‘Yes. All OK. Just… emotional.’

‘Of course you are.’

‘I’m coming home tonight. I can’t stay. Libby is sorting it.’

‘Very sensible,’ he said. Then, ‘Does this mean I have to hoover?’

She smiled. ‘Damn right it does. I expect everything shipshape when I get home!’

‘Righto, Captain!’ he joked. ‘But look,’ his voice settled into a more serious tone. ‘Just be careful, OK? Get yourself home. I’m proud of you.’

‘Proud?’

‘Can’t have been easy, what you’ve done. Lots of people would have… I don’t know, taken a shortcut. But you did our Tom proud.’

‘Thank you. And you know… I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to come with me. It seemed like something that was better alone…’

‘I get it, don’t worry.’

‘I know, but you loved him too, I know that.’

‘But I love you more,’ Will said simply.

She leant her head against the wall, steadying her breathing. ‘You too,’ she said. ‘I love you too.’