Page 61 of Vying Girls (Girls of Hazelhurst #2)

Haz

Fucking hate it in the lodge alone. It’s too quiet, too weird. It’s been fucking days now.

I don’t even take my shoes off as I fall over the sofa, feet dangling off the arm of it. Nic would hate it, the thought filling me with an evil thrum of satisfaction.

Fuck her for making Tilda worry. Fuck her for making me worry. And Elly, too, with all the shit she’s got going on at home.

Things seem to have taken a turn for the worst after a brief spell of hope. They manage to fix whatever was going on with her grandad’s bowel, but I think it’s reoccurred again. He’s still in the hospital and to hear Tilda talk about it, it’s unlikely he’ll ever leave.

There’s not long until our project’s due.

Can’t be helped, but this really has all come at the worst time.

I’m doing my best, but it’s a lot of work, and I’m definitely the weakest link of the group.

But whatever. I’ll keep plugging. Least I can fucking do just waiting here. Nothing but fucking waiting.

It’s about six o’clock now. They’ll probably still be up at the hospital, but I try Tilda anyway.

She picks up just as I’m about to hang up.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey, beautiful.’ I press the phone tight to my ear, just the sound of her voice chilling me out. ‘How are things?’

She exhales a long sigh. ‘Kind of fucking awful.’

With a wince, I sit up, leaning my elbows on my knees. ‘Yeah? No progress?’

‘There’s not going to be. It’s—God, it’s fucking—he’s starving to death, Haz. Like, they’ve even stopped his fluids now.’

‘What? Is that legal? Sounds fucking inhumane.’

‘It is. But it’s procedure apparently. Because there’s nothing to be done and fluids will only prolong his suffering.

Elly’s Nan thinks they just want his bed which literally wouldn’t surprise me.

He’s in this side room now, but still on that shitty ward.

God, Haz. It’s so busy, so noisy. Hardly anyone checks on him. He shouldn’t have to die there.’

She stops, her voice clogged with tears.

I clench my jaw, shifting angrily. Feel so fucking hopeless stuck here, trying to help someone who clearly doesn’t want to be helped.

‘How’s Elly?’ I grate out.

‘Sad,’ Tilda whispers. ‘She’s trying to stay upbeat for Dan and Taylor. Dan’s taking it pretty badly. I think they were close.’

‘And her mum?’

Tilda releases a huff. ‘Bad-bad. To be fair, she’s made it up the hospital a couple of times, but I can tell being out the house is really affecting her.

She just kind of rocks on the chair the whole time.

I think she’s trying to stop panic attacks.

Elly’s really worried she’s going to crash.

You know…afterwards. I think everyone’s just holding it together for now. ’

‘So they couldn’t unblock his bowel again?’

‘No. Basically, they managed the first time because he was on the drip and once he was hydrated, it unstuck. But then obviously, they took him off fluids and he still refused to drink, and it got stuck again. They wouldn’t do the drip thing again.

I don’t know why. They had reasons. Like the bowel was now all rotted or something.

So…yeah. He can’t eat, can’t drink, and everyone’s just… waiting.’

I shake my head, not having a single clue how to respond to that. ‘Fuck.’

‘Pretty much.’ I hear her sniffle and curse at herself.

‘Ugh. Sorry. It’s just really horrible watching him go down hill.

Like, he can’t really talk much, I think because he’s so dehydrated, but he knows what’s happening.

It’s not like he’s super sick or anything, or unconscious or whatever.

He’s completely aware that he’s going to die soon. ’

She sniffs some more. My hand furls to a fist with how much I want to fucking be there.

‘Elly’s gonna quit uni. She keeps saying. And I kinda get it. It’s just a fucking mess here, and her Nan can’t… That’s one of the things she’s most sad about. God, I don’t think I could bear it if she wasn’t around.’

Sensing she’s about to have a full-on breakdown, I rack my brains for something to calm her.

‘You got your bracelet on?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Me too.’ Closing my eyes, I stroke the smooth beads. ‘You just keep remembering what they mean.’

‘I remember.’ I hear a smile in her voice now. ‘We’re getting married.’

‘Till death do us not part. Not fucking ever.’

She chuckles. ‘Never ever. Thanks, Haz. Just that made me feel a million times better.’

‘Yeah, well, I look after wifey. Keep wanting to fucking jump on the next ferry, honestly.’

‘Well, wifey wants you to look after Nic at the moment. How’s that all going? Found her yet?’

‘No.’ My gaze slides to the table where her phone lies, found earlier today. ‘But I found her phone in her room.’

‘What? She hasn’t even got her phone? I thought she was just ignoring us.’

‘Nope. It was dead. I’m charging it for her, but—’ I fling up a hand, just as pissed about the situation as she is.

‘Shit. Do you even know if she’s been going to uni at all? If she’s even alright?’

‘Nope.’

‘Fuck. Fuck. You need to message Blakely. She’ll know. Ask her.’ Tilda groans down the phone. ‘Fucking Nic. Why does she have to be so difficult?! She’s so— ugh —dramatic!’

‘Yup.’ I settle back on the sofa with a sigh. ‘But don’t you worry about her. She’ll be fine. She can stay in that tent for weeks on end. Just concentrate on the shit you’ve got going on there, okay? Concentrate on Elly.’

‘Yeah. I will.’

‘Good girl. And Tilda?’ I close my eyes, blocking everything out for a second. ‘Fucking love you.’

I smile at her watery chuckle.

‘Fucking love you too, Haz.’

Nic

I’ve lost count of the days. There’s something weirdly freeing in it. My tent’s got a box of MREs. Expensive as shit, but they’ve kept me going. I’ve got some books—required reading for my course—and a notepad.

Not that I’m getting much coursework done.

The waves keep calling me, atop this little outcrop that was a faff and a half to get to.

It juts out above the northernmost tip of Hazelhurst, the cliff face a tangled mess of spindly pine roots.

It’s sandier here than the rest of the island.

If I came back in a year, doubt it would still be here, crumbled into the sea below.

There’s a beach down there, with no way to reach it save from scaling the cliff. Apart from mustering up the courage to give it a go, there’s nothing to do but think. Which is exactly why I’m here.

It’s fine, the Varsity thing. Not life or death. Some stupid hockey tourney doesn’t define me. It took me about two days to come to that conclusion, to let the anger ebb away like the sandy cliff into the sea.

I could have returned then. Told Tilda it’s all good.

Carry on as we have been. Fine, if I wasn’t sick to death of it all.

It mostly being me. I get this urge sometimes, to lift my skull, to scoop out everything inside and chuck it away.

To form a new brain that’s not so torturous.

Less angry, less destructive. The tent thing helps.

The silence of it helping to wick away the angst. I could live out here forever if it weren’t for England’s shitty winters. That, and the people who’d miss me.

I ignore the twinge of guilt that tells me they’re probably worried. As much as I like to think I’m some lone wolf, Haz is practically family at this point, whether she likes it or not, and as for Elly, I know I need her kindliness for the rest of my life.

And then there’s Tilda, who still cares for me for some reason, and is probably still reeling from the emergency the other night.

My heart’s still palpitating to fuck. It’s probably best I’m not pushing it, forcing myself to remain still and come to a decision.

It all ends here. Whether that means keeping Tilda around or leaving her forever, I’m done. There’s no more keeping on. It’s only going to ruin us, dragging both Haz and Elly down too.

And frankly, I’m tired. So tired I’m thinking about bad, permanent things just to make it stop.

My eyes blur with tears just looking over the cliff, sheltered in the arms of tree roots, because the thought of falling into that water is just so fucking tempting.

Probably my subconscious that chose this spot.

I don’t think a fall from here would kill me, just hurt kind of a lot.

Haz was right. Our conversation’s on repeat.

I force myself to remember everything she said, to sit with how god-awful I am.

Hearing it laid out like that was galvanizing.

It was fucked what I did—making Tilda think I thought she was a liar about what Dad did.

Maybe little me believed that, had to to survive.

But little Nic’s dead, has been for years.

Smothered with drugs and loneliness and Damien’s demon touch.

I make myself remember how it felt when I went to the police about him and no one had believed me.

That deep, deep hopelessness that there was no one coming to help me.

Maybe it had been a blessing because it was only after then that I started to devise some kind of escape plan.

Sometimes the only one who’s coming for us is ourselves.

But unlike Tilda, I never blamed myself for what Damien did. That was one thing I never carried. He was just a sick fuck, and I was an easy target. Vulnerable and alone and too young to grasp the seriousness.

To have carried that blame though, it would have eaten me.

Yet Tilda’s still here, still loving, still forgiving.

Despite believing she ruined her mum’s life, and Dad’s, and mine.

And I only hammered home that belief. That she was somehow to blame for getting caught in the claws of a paedophile and causing it all to blow up.

Ten-year-old, innocent, beautiful Tilda.

I close my eyes in my den of roots, feeling those tears again.

How can she forgive that? How can I ask that of her?

I’ve no right to any of it. Yet she still wants me, she still tries.

Because she hasn’t lost herself to the same darkness I have.

She still remembers the light, those magical two years that only ended because of Dad and no one else.

They’re still branded onto my soul somewhere, hidden beneath years of dust and trauma.

If she can find it, surely I can too. I want to. I want us back.

Sick though it is, the only thing that’s been making it bearable is the thought that what Damien did was my penance, some kind of twisted, fucked-up karma. My just deserts. For the first time, I feel calm when I think about him. Like I’m now somehow absolved.

There’s just today, where Tilda’s still here, caring for me, wanting me, and then the future which can either be written in blood or ink.

Damien’s a threat we can face together. It was wrong of me to make her promise not to tell the others about my heart emergency.

I’ve scratched it onto my list of things to apologise for.

I’m still trying to find it in me to forgive myself for making her walk through the forest alone that night.

I wasn’t thinking, I just knew I needed to see her.

To fall to my knees and apologise, that’s all I’d been thinking to do. A deathbed confession.

Except I’m still fucking here. Living and breathing. A whole lifetime to make it up to her.

Above me, I hear a scuff and then Haz’s undoubtedly pissed voice calling out, ‘Nic?’

I lift my head above the cliff. Haz spots me and lets out a huff. She tiptoes over the roots and sits down beside me, out of the wind.

She throws something at me. My phone. ‘Fucking stupid, Nic. What if your heart packed in again?’

I pick it up, brushing off sand. ‘I was coming home tomorrow.’

‘Of course you were. Been fucking looking for you everywhere.’

We sit in silence for a while, the sound of the surf a constant, soothing thrum. My body feels tingly, something like relief bleeding through my veins.

Haz came for me. Maybe she’s got it in her to forgive me too.

She shifts, clearing her throat. ‘So. You’re good?’

I nod, letting out a hum. ‘Just needed some thinking time.’

‘Good for you,’ she says sarcastically. ‘Look, dunno if you know, but it was me who told your coach about the heart thing, not Tilda, so you can get off her case, okay?’

‘You’re kidding?’

She shakes her head, lips pursed. ‘Nope. Skylar told me. I was pissed. Big fucking time. Still am.’ She whacks my shoulder, so hard I wince. ‘Literal fucker not telling us. For dragging Tilda out in the dark like that. You gotta stop with the drugs, man. You just have to.’

‘I know.’ I fold my arms around my knees, chin resting atop them. ‘I’m done with them. I’m done with all of it. Is she alright? Tilda?’

Haz lets out a long breath. ‘Yeah, but Elly isn’t.’

‘Why? What’s up with Elly?’

‘Her grandad. He’s in hospital. Not getting back out. She’s quit uni.’

‘You’re fucking joking.’

‘Do I look like I’m joking? Yeah, Tilda’s with her. They’ll probably stay until the end.’ She draws in a breath, letting it out as a loud sigh. ‘All fucking shit here, man.’

I squeeze my eyes closed, heart breaking in two for Elly. ‘You said she’s quit uni?’

‘Yeah. Maybe she’ll see out the end of this year, but then what’s the point? Her Nan can’t cope. She’s got issues too, and obviously her mum. No one else to look after them all.’

I clench my jaw, tonguing my teeth as I think. ‘She’s not quitting.’

‘Not got a choice, has she?’

‘There’re always choices.’

I look at the horizon through slitted eyes, England’s coastline a dark, hazy blur. There’s rain in the distance, the wind heading this way. It cuts through the top of my hair, making my scalp tingle and matching the hum in my blood.

‘Right.’ I stand up, startling Haz. ‘Help me put my shit away. We’re gonna fucking sort this.’

Because Elly’s family, like Haz, and if there’s only one way to make things up with Tilda, it’s looking after the two girls she loves.