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57

TWO WEEKS AGO

When Will came down three hours later, she was sitting in the kitchen, the blinds still closed, Tom’s urn on the table in front of her.

‘Hey,’ he said, his eyes taking in the scene and a look crossing his face.

‘Hey.’

‘Couldn’t sleep?’

‘Something like that.’

He walked to the sink and ran himself a glass of water, gulping it down thirstily. Then he pulled the blind, flooding the room with light which sparkled off the metallic surface of the sink, the shiny red of the kettle, and seemed to focus on Tom’s urn like a spotlight. She watched as he leant briefly on the counter-top, looking out at their rather tangled garden. Then, shaking himself slightly, he made his way to the table, pulled out a chair and sat opposite her, reaching for her hand. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Shoot.’

‘Shoot?’

‘Tell me. It’s pretty clear something’s up. Are you worrying about the ashes again, because I really think?—’

‘Not worrying as such,’ she said, raising her eyes to his. ‘Just… I think I know what I need to do.’ She felt something fizz in her chest as she said the words, more anxiety than certainty. Not knowing how he was going to react.

After she told him, he sat back, thoughtful.

‘Paris,’ he said, more of a statement than a question. ‘Alone.’

‘It just seemed right, suddenly,’ she said.

‘And you want to do this now? You wouldn’t rather wait until after the wedding? I mean, financially…’

‘I know. I just think – it feels like something I have to do, Will. It’s like…’ She spread her fingers on the table and looked at them. Her nails were chipped, her skin rough. Hardly the look of a soon-to-be bride. She’d have to get them done. After. ‘It’s like I need to put an end to this, a proper end, before we start our life together.’

‘Is this about the hallucinations? Are they still going on?’

‘Sometimes. And yes, I do think it might put an end to them. Closure, as they say in the States.’ She gave a little smile, but he didn’t reciprocate. Instead, he looked serious, his brow furrowed.

‘And you really don’t want me to come with you?’

She flushed a little. ‘It just feels… and I hope you don’t mind… but it feels like something I have to do on my own.’

‘What about Libby?’ he asked. ‘I get that you don’t want me to be there. Why it might not feel right. But what about Libby or Sam? Maybe one of them could go with you.’

It was then she realised, anew, how much he must love her. He wasn’t annoyed about the money, or her darting off on a side-quest when they needed to get their plans sorted for their own wedding, their own life together. He was just worried about her.

‘I’ll be OK.’

He was silent for a moment, watching her. ‘OK,’ he said at last.

‘OK?’

‘Yep. I mean, not that you need my permission, obviously. But if you want to go, if you feel this is something you need to do, then I’m on board. I’ll help, if I can.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Have you thought about the legalities?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘It’s basically illegal,’ she told him, making a face. ‘I can scatter them in a remembrance garden there, but it doesn’t feel quite right.’

‘So, what, you’re going to break the law?’ Will’s tone had become sharper.

‘No,’ she sighed. ‘I’m going to bend it a little. And hope that it will be OK.’

She told him of her plan to take her locket – Tom’s locket – and place a tiny amount of the ashes in there, then drop it into the river. ‘It won’t do any harm,’ she said, ‘if I just use a tiny amount.’

‘And the rest?’

She shook her head. ‘I think maybe it’s time to make peace with Tom’s parents.’