Polly was sticking out her tongue. “Okay, okay. Whatever you want to call it, then. The universe. The great spaghetti monster. Maybe that’s how I’ll see you all from heaven.”
“Optimistic,” said George. “I remember what you were like as a teenager. You might not get in.”
“If there is an afterlife, I’m going to tell God about the time you cut all the heads off my Barbies and tied them to my bunk bed.”
“He’ll understand. He’ll have seen how annoying you were.”
“She, please.”
“Do you believe in God, Annie?” Costas asked quietly as the siblings bickered. He did, she thought. She’d seen his crucifix and bottles of holy water. She’d never wanted to broach the topic—because how could a gay man belong to a church that hated who he was?—but she knew he sometimes came in from clubbing on Sunday mornings, dance music still ringing in his ears, and went to the Orthodox church in Camberwell. One of the many ways she would never understand people.
“Um, I don’t think so.” Otherwise, she’d have to believe in a God who let Jacob die and allowed her mother to waste away. “You’re religious, right?”
He shrugged. “In the Bible, it says that what I am is sinful. To be...gay, you know.” He looked at her shyly, to see if she’d known or minded. Annie arranged her face in an expression of complete tolerance. “But then I see things like this—” waving to the sky above, streaked blue and silver and peach “—and I meet such kind people who take me to the tall buildings and give me pink drinks, and I think, there must be something. Just something more. Even if it is not a person or a thing or a place. Do you know what I mean, Annie?”
“I think so, yes,” she said. She’d lived with Costas for a year now, and this was the most they’d ever talked. He’d never even told her outright that he was gay. They’d slept with only a wall between them, virtual strangers, and now here they were. And they stood and watched the sun blaze out over London, and it was as beautiful as pink champagne and prom dresses and new friends.
“Polly! For Christ’s sake.” She looked up from her reverie, startled, to see Polly climbing on the railing around the viewing platform. George was grabbing her around the waist as a security guard rushed over. Annie’s own heart lurched, vertigo making her head swim.
But Polly was laughing. “Oh, don’t be so boring, George. I want to see farther!”
“Ma’am, you can’t climb on that. It’s too dangerous.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s dangerous, I’m dying!” She was laughing, but Annie saw her face was also streaked with tears, and as George got her down, jerking his head to the lifts to indicate it was time to go, she realized he wasn’t just grouchy all the time—he was really, really scared.
DAY 14
Do nothing
Annie! Annie, call an ambulance!
Annie was in her old house, the sun coming in the white curtains of the bedroom. She held Jacob in her arms, but then she looked down and he was blue, his skin almost translucent, a web of veins showing through. He was so cold, and he was so still—a wax doll that looked exactly like her baby. It was a dream. She knew it was just a dream, and she struggled awake through the layers of sleep that held her down. Not real. It’s not real.
She sat up in bed, looking at the clock. Sunday again. Costas hadn’t come back from clubbing, and the flat was quiet. Annie made herself tea and a poached egg on toast, arranging it on a nice plate, bearing in mind Polly’s comments on her dishes. She sat on her now-pistachio-free sofa, noticing that the fall of sunlight no longer illuminated dust and crumbs everywhere. That was something. A small something, but something all the same. She admired the food on the plate, which was edged in lilac flowers. The yellow of the yolk, the pale green of the avocado. Before she knew it, she’d picked up her phone and snapped a photo, stopping herself as her finger hovered over the Facebook button. No way. She could not become the kind of person who posted pictures of her breakfast.
There was a message from Polly, cheerful and upbeat, about going to the National Gallery that week. Annie still felt troubled by what had happened at the Shard, the way she’d climbed so recklessly on the railings, reaching for the sky. Polly was clearly more sick than she’d realized, taking risks, going too far. With anyone else Annie might have tried to dodge the meet-up, replying with something vague about work. But Polly didn’t have time for a brush-off. If Annie postponed her, there might not be any time left. So she said yes, despite her misgivings, and then settled back to enjoy the peace of her Sunday doing nothing.
DAY 15
Finish a task
“And so, to celebrate the completion of the fly-tipping fines project—finally!—we’re going for drinks at the Shovel after work,” Jeff said, trying to sound natural while reading off index cards. “I must stress that in accordance with council diversity policy these will have to be self-funded and attendance is not compulsory. If you have any special dietary requirements, please let us know and we’ll try to move the venue. This project was a real team effort, with everyone contributing to its success and...” Annie tuned out. She’d already spent much more of her life thinking about fly-tipping than she could ever have imagined. She was surprised they were going to a pub—the council were so keen to avoid possible cultural offense they’d moved the Christmas do to January, when no one felt like celebrating at all.
“Are you going?” Fee was standing in front of Annie, whispering over Jeff’s drone.
“Oh! I don’t know.” She’d routinely avoided all work events for years now. “You?”
Fee had dark circles under her eyes. “Well, I suppose...if you were going...”
Annie thought about having to make awkward conversation with Jeff, who only talked about going to the gym and work, and pretend she didn’t loathe Sharon, and veer away from Tim’s halitosis. But on the other hand, she had no other plans. “I suppose we could. Just for one.”
“Just for one,” Fee agreed. She smiled, the strain on her face melting away. “It’s worth celebrating the end of it. I don’t know about you, but if I never hear the phrase fly-tipping again, it’ll be too soon.”
DAY 16
Take in some culture