She was silent.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘You’re . . .’
Daniel frowned at her. ‘What?’
‘Alive.’
‘Yes. Last time I looked.’
‘I don’t understand . . .’
‘Do you need some water?’ He sounded impatient, like he wanted to get on and for her to leave.
She continued to stare at him, a hurt expression on her face. Tears welled up. ‘You could’ve just told me it was over.’
She struggled to get up and open the front door, but he put out a hand to stop her.
‘What did you just say?’
‘If you didn’t want to see me anymore. I could’ve handled it, you know. Being dumped. No need to let your mum do your dirty work. Was it her idea or yours?’
He looked baffled. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘So what, you’re just going to deny it now? Sorry but I deserve better.’ She gulped back some tears and tried again to wrench open the door.
‘Cherry, will you please tell me what’s going on?’
She stopped and looked at him. ‘Your mum. Telling me you were dead.’
The hallway fell silent.
‘Say that again.’
Cherry frowned. ‘She phoned me. Back in March. She told me you’d died when I was away.’
Daniel stared. ‘She did what?’
Cherry felt it wasn’t really necessary to repeat it. His face was fixed in utter astonishment.
‘Cherry, do you have time for a coffee?’
She did. He made towards the kitchen.
‘Not here, though,’ she said quickly. ‘If it’s OK with you, I’d rather not be . . .’ She looked around uncomfortably and he understood.
‘Let me just get my things, put my work away.’
‘May I use the bathroom?’
‘Course.’
Daniel disappeared into the hub of the house, and after a couple of seconds, when she could no longer hear him, she slipped upstairs and into Laura’s bedroom. Closing the door softly, she glanced at the desk and saw the notepaper she’d spotted on her tour when she’d come for dinner all those months ago. Embossed with Laura’s name and address. Silently she moved across the room, noting how the thick carpet muffled any squeaks or footsteps. She took a few sheets and slipped them into her bag, then seeing a handwritten note, something about a woman having a strenuous time looking after her grandchildren, she took that too. It must’ve been no more than two or three minutes before she was back downstairs.
‘Ready?’ said Daniel, appearing from the kitchen with his jacket.
She nodded.
They went to a coffee bar a few streets away. It was better that way – Laura would soon find out she wasn’t required at ITV Towers and Cherry didn’t really want her barging in on them.
He sat and listened while she told him what had happened, awkwardly of course, as it would be difficult to hear and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings any more than she had to. She tried to keep it brief. She tried to be careful; there was still a long way to go.
He didn’t say anything for a while, then rubbed his face with his hands. When he looked up, he was just as bewildered. ‘Why didn’t you ask to go to the funeral or something?’
The insinuation was that she could’ve worked harder to flush out the lie. ‘I did. She said it had taken place when I was away. And there was no gravestone as your ashes had gone to France.’
He stiffened and she knew it must be hard hearing how your mother had discussed your own funeral. He picked up his teaspoon and slowly stirred his coffee without looking up at her.
‘I’m sorry you had to go through that.’
She nodded. ‘It took me a long time . . . Well, I never really got over it. That’s why I went to your mum’s office yesterday. I was just desperate to talk to her, hear about what had happened after you’d . . . you know . . .’
‘You went to her office?’
‘She didn’t mention it?’ started Cherry. ‘Well, no, I guess she wouldn’t.’ Silence lapsed for a moment. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Why did you come to the house?’
She noticed that he wasn’t opening up to her yet. ‘I came to bring her these.’ She opened up her bag and pulled out an envelope. Inside were some photographs.
‘They’re from our trip. The white-water rafting. I just thought she might like to see the last photos of you . . .’
He took them in his hand. There they were, the two of them laughing and screaming as they hurtled down the river. Cherry had dug out the pictures the night before from the boxes she’d stashed in the wardrobe. They’d been taken by the professional photographer and she’d got them from the centre a month or so after the accident as a memento.
She had a sudden surge of conscience. ‘I hope they’re not too upsetting,’ she said quickly. ‘Because of the accident—’
‘No.’ He looked at her. ‘It was a nice thing to do.’
She gave a small smile. ‘So . . . when did you wake up?’
‘March. A few days after she called you. When I was fit enough, we went to France. Better recuperation. Warmer.’
‘You look really well.’
He nodded, accepting the compliment.
‘Can I ask . . . what she said about me? About why I’d stopped coming to the hospital?’
‘She didn’t go into much detail. Just made it sound like you’d left a long time before.’
Cherry’s face crumpled. ‘I know we didn’t always get on . . . but I didn’t think it was that bad.’
His face was set in a stony expression.
She sat awkwardly for a moment and he saw and seemed to snap out of his mood. He sat up a little straighter, focused a small smile on her.
‘Are you still studying?’ she asked.
‘I’m back at the hospital. They’ve given me another place.’
‘That’s great.’
‘Yeah. You? I noticed you’d left the agency . . .’
‘It didn’t really work out.’
He looked surprised. ‘No?’
‘No, things got a bit . . . My mind wasn’t really on it.’ She shook her head, not wanting to go into it further.
‘Hang on, was this because . . . of me? Of what you’d been told?’
That was sort of true, thought Cherry, and another thing she could hold Laura accountable for. She gave him an awkward smile.
He exhaled in irritation and she could tell he was biting his tongue when it came to his mother. ‘I think I owe you quite a bit.’
She grinned. ‘I’m just glad you’re still here.’
‘Must have been quite a surprise when I opened the door.’
‘Yep.’
They both remembered her faint and laughed.
‘So what else have you been up to?’ he asked.
‘Not much. I’m staying with my mum at the moment.’
‘Send her my best. Explain I’m alive first.’
‘I will. How about you?’
‘Just got my head down, doing the hours.’
They looked at each other a moment.
Heart in mouth, she spoke first. ‘Did you meet anyone else?’
‘No.’ He paused. ‘Did you?’
She heard the hope in his voice. She smiled and shook her head.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Wednesday 16 September