Page 54 of The Life Experiment
Through swollen eyes, Layla stared at the dinosaur poster pinned to Jayden’s wall. Once again, she was commandeering his bedroom, this time for entirely different reasons.
It had been seven days since David’s passing. In that time, Layla had learned more about grief than she ever wanted to know.
Layla had learned that a house could feel completely empty, even when it was filled with people, all because it was missing one vital person.
Her childhood home had transformed into a mausoleum.
Every room Layla entered was filled with reminders of her dad.
His slippers, still perched beside the sofa because no one could bear to move them.
His favourite coffee cup sitting in the drying rack, waiting for him to use it.
His toothbrush, still in the holder beside her mother’s.
Then there were the bits of David that weren’t visible but were everywhere. The silence where one of his jokes would have been. The absence of a goodnight hug or ruffle of the hair. Jayden’s sad, wide eyes as he looked for his best friend, not understanding why he was no longer there.
In the days since she received the news, Layla had been on autopilot. After that first, heavy cry, she’d wiped her face, helped Maya up and got them on the first train to Hull. She hadn’t left since.
By the time Layla thought to message Angus to explain what had happened, three days had passed.
The queue of notifications on Layla’s phone was proof he was worried, but Layla didn’t know what to say. How the hell was she meant to explain everything that had happened?
It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried. Night after night, she sat with her messages open, waiting for the words to come to her.
But every time her fingers moved to type, Layla stopped.
Explaining meant typing the words ‘my dad died’.
Words that, even after seven days and several meetings about David’s funeral, Layla still couldn’t bring herself to say.
Huddled under the duvet, Layla remained cocooned until her body ached with hunger. Forcing herself to get up, she made her way downstairs, moving with slow, trudging steps.
At the front door, Layla spotted David’s trainers. Flinching, she looked away.
‘There you are,’ Joanna said, appearing in the hallway at the sound of Layla’s footsteps. ‘I wondered if I should wake you.’
Even though it hurt, Layla forced herself to look at her mum.
Joanna was dressed, but she didn’t look right.
The buttons on her cardigan were misaligned.
Her hair was bedraggled, and her skin looked bare and dry.
The last seven days had aged Joanna, and Layla knew nothing she could do would change that.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Joanna offered, already moving towards the kitchen.
‘No, Mum. Let me make it,’ Layla replied, rushing past her. Joanna protested, but Layla shook her head. She may have lost her father, but Joanna had lost her husband, the man she’d had by her side for more than thirty years. The least Layla could do was make her mum a drink.
As Joanna lowered her weary body onto a dining chair, Layla flicked the kettle on. ‘I need to ring the florist soon,’ Joanna said, staring out of the window.
‘I can do that,’ Layla replied. ‘Please. Let me take some things off your plate.’
Twisting to face her daughter, Joanna forced a smile. ‘Well, only if you’re sure.’
The kitchen fell into silence as Layla plopped teabags into two mugs. Gathering milk from the fridge, she calmed herself with the routine of making tea until Joanna next spoke.
‘Will that man you were talking to be coming to the funeral?’ she asked.
Layla’s shoulders stiffened. Unlatching the kettle, she filled the mugs with water. ‘Angus and I aren’t speaking anymore.’
Joanna’s eyebrows arched. ‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know, Mum. Things didn’t work out, that’s all.’
As she handed Joanna a mug, Layla did her best not to imagine Angus waiting for her in the wine bar that day. The image was haunting.
‘You should talk to him,’ Joanna said as Layla joined her at the table. ‘See if you can fix things.’
‘Mum, please. I don’t want to talk about Angus right now.’
‘But talking about Angus is exactly what we should be doing. Your dad said he’d never seen you as happy as when you were speaking to him.’
Blinking, Layla dragged her eyes to her mother. ‘He did?’
‘He did.’ Across the table, Joanna reached for Layla’s hand. ‘You and Angus, what you shared… it meant something to you, I can tell. I know you, Layla. I know you don’t spend hours talking to just anyone. He must have been special.’
Layla’s heart ached as she thought of Angus’s slow, breezy smile. ‘Maybe he was, once upon a time, but it’s over now,’ she said, trying to sound braver than she felt.
Joanna took a sip of tea like she knew better.
‘I once said that about your dad, you know. It’s true,’ she added when she observed Layla’s shock.
‘We dated for six months before we split. We’d gone out one night and got into a silly argument.
Too many drinks, too many emotions flying about that we were too young to understand.
So, we called it quits. We barely lasted two weeks without each other. ’
Suddenly, Joanna squeezed Layla’s hand.
‘Layla, I would give anything for one more night with your father. If you’ve found someone who makes you feel like that, don’t give up on them. Please. We only get a few shots at happiness in life. Your dad would want you to take every one that comes your way.’
It was those words that broke Layla. ‘I miss him,’ she wailed. ‘I miss him so much.’ Layla didn’t know who she was speaking about, Angus or her dad, but it didn’t matter. She missed them both, and having either of them back in her life felt equally as impossible.