I miss you.
Without really thinking, he opens his phone and finds the last picture he and Margaret took together. They’d gone to Brighton for the day, and she insisted they take a selfie near the water. But as they did, a seagull flew so close to their heads that they both shouted and jumped away. Only its tail feathers made it into the corner of the photo; the rest was the two of them with their mouths open, half laughing and half screaming, Margaret’s blond hair streaming behind her as she started to escape toward the edge of the frame.
“Birdbrain,” she said, shaking her fist in mock anger.
Later she made him give her a ride on his back because the wedge sandals she’d insisted on wearing were hurting her feet. Then she complained about the food at the café where they had lunch, and had a strop when he wouldn’t leave the arcade until he beat his Skee-Ball record. They were both tense as they walked back to the train, annoyed with each other in the way they always seemed to be lately after spending a certain amount of time together. But then another seagull flew past, this one high above them, and Margaret frowned and muttered, “Birdbrain,” and that made them both dissolve into laughter all over again.
He pulls up her text messages.
Okay, he types, then slowly erases it.
To his surprise, a video call from Alfie pops up on the screen, and when he picks up, Hugo is even more astonished to see all five of his siblings jockeying for position in the frame.
“Hey, mate,” Alfie says, his face looming larger than all the others. “Just figured we’d ring you up to see how you’re getting on.”
Maybe it’s his fight with Mae, or maybe it’s just that he’s never been away from them for this long before, but the sight of their faces is overwhelming. To Hugo’s horror, he feels his eyes fill with tears.
“Don’t go falling apart on us now,” George says with a grin. “I thought you were meant to be this big world traveler.”
Isla, who is standing over George’s shoulder, beams into the camera. “He misses us.”
“Right, but who do you miss the most?” Alfie asks. “Like…we want rankings.”
“I miss all of you,” Hugo says, and he means it.
Poppy elbows Alfie aside, her braids swinging as she moves closer to the screen. “Is the other Margaret Campbell there?”
“Yeah, let us see,” Oscar says, craning his neck.
George peers over his shoulder. “We’d love to say hello.”
“She’s just over in another car right now,” he says, trying to keep his voice light, but they know him too well for this, and he can see their faces shift.
“Why?” Isla asks cautiously. “What happened?”
“Nothing. It’s fine. Or it will be.”
Poppy’s face shifts, and she looks at him more seriously. “You like her, huh?”
Hugo’s instinct is to laugh or make a joke, but he feels too worn down to pretend right now. “Yeah,” he says. “I do.”
“Knew it,” says Alfie.
“I know it’s a bit weird for you because of Margaret,” Hugo says, still talking mostly to Poppy, “and I didn’t exactly plan this. But I just—”
“Hugo,” Poppy says, tipping her head to one side the way she always does when she’s considering something. “If you like her, I’m sure she’s great.”
He lets out a breath. “She is. And I do.”
“Okay then,” she says, all business now. “Whatever you did, just apologize.”
Isla nods. “But not in that blustery, flustery way you usually do. Say exactly what you did wrong and be heartfelt about it.”
“And tell her how you feel about her too,” says Oscar, out of nowhere. They all turn to him in surprise, but he just grins. “What? I think it’s important to be honest.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” Hugo asks, and there’s a catch in his voice.
“It will,” says Poppy, and though she can’t possibly know that, there’s something so reassuring about it that he simply nods.
“Right,” he says. “Thanks.”
“Let us know how it goes,” Isla tells him, and the others bob their heads. All except Alfie, who clears his throat exaggeratedly.
“You know,” he says, “this wasn’t actually meant to be a group therapy session. We were ringing to let you know we made an appointment with the university tomorrow.”
Hugo frowns. “Why?”
“To tell them that it’s one for all and all for one,” George says, and when Hugo just stares at him, uncomprehending, he shrugs. “If they won’t let you take a gap year, then none of us will go.”
“What?” Hugo says, too stunned to think of anything else. He adjusts his grip on the phone and turns his focus on Alfie, who looks rather pleased with himself. “I thought I told you not to say anything.”
“I thought you knew I had a big mouth,” Alfie says with a shrug. “Besides, it was George’s idea.”
George smiles ruefully. “Listen, if this family were a cake—”
“Seriously?” Poppy says, rolling her eyes.
“Do I get to be the sugar in this metaphor?” asks Alfie.
“Well, now I’m feeling a bit peckish,” says Oscar.
“All I’m saying,” George continues, “is that I like it when we’re all together. But I also want you to be happy. And I can see that you are. So we want to help.”
Hugo blinks a few times, dangerously close to tears. “That’s…” He shakes his head. “That’s incredibly generous. But I can’t let you do it.”
“It’s okay,” Oscar says. “We’ll only be bluffing.”
“Yeah, if they say no, we’ll back off,” Isla tells him. “It’s not like we have any other options at this point, and the rest of us still want to go. But we figured a show of solidarity might help with your situation.”
Hugo shakes his head. “What if they call your bluff?”
“We’ll sort it out,” says Alfie. “It’s worth a shot, though, yeah?”
Hugo tries to picture it, the five of them trooping into the university council’s office, laying out their demands, arguing on his behalf. They’re all looking at him with different expressions—Poppy is determined, and George is protective; Isla is concerned, and Oscar is interested, which for Oscar is a massive compliment. Alfie, of course, is just puffed up with pride at the good deed he’s currently doing. Hugo has always been able to read them better than anyone, and with each of them, he knows this is a show of love. But he also knows he can’t let them do it.
“You’re all amazing,” he says, his voice filled with sincerity. The truth is, he feels a bit undone by all this. “And it means the world to me. But it’s not your job to sort this out.”
“It’s no trouble,” Isla says. “Honestly.”
Poppy nods. “We just want you to be happy.”
“I will be,” Hugo says. “I don’t mind coming home. Not really. I’ll travel next summer instead. Or on holidays. It’ll be fine.”
“That’s rubbish,” Alfie says. “You want to go. I know you do. So why not let us try?”
“No,” Hugo says a bit more firmly. “Just—please don’t do anything. I love you guys for offering, but it’s fine.”
Isla looks at him skeptically. “I think that must be a record for the most times anyone has ever said fine in a conversation.”
The connection wavers, their faces going frozen on the screen. Then, just as quickly, they’re back.
“Hugo?” Poppy says. “I think we’re losing you.”
He manages a grin. “Never.”
“I think she meant the connection, mate,” Alfie says, and both Poppy and George reach over to punch him.
“I know,” Hugo says as the image flickers again. “Look, I should go. The service is a bit dodgy between stops. But thank you again. Really. You’re the best.”
“Who, me?” Alfie says.
Hugo laughs. “All of you. I’ll see you in a few days.”