Page 49 of One Last Thing
‘Megan, lie the fuck down on that table before I accuse you of staring at my bottom.’
‘Mum! Oh my god, I amnotstaring at your bottom! I am keeping my eyesup, directed right at the ceiling!’ she cries, sounding mortified.
I smile to myself, which is actually quite hard when your face is squished into the hole of a massage table. Much like when Botox is starting to wear off a little after a refresh.
‘What are you worried about, Megan? That I’ll forget it’s you lying there next to me and reach for your hand? That you’ll be so relaxed you’ll accidentally break wind?’
‘Oh my god. This ishell. I’m actually in hell.’
Her voice is muffled. She must have her hands covering her face.
‘You need to relax, darling,’ I encourage in my most soothing voice.
‘I’d relax if I was in a room by myself. And preferably if my dad’s ashes weren’t on the floor next to me,’ she adds bitterly.
‘I told you in the changing room, he has to come with us on every activity.’
‘You could have left the box in the locker like I did.’
‘That’s not much fun for him, is it.’
‘Well, he’s in a box, so fun is already a bit limited.’
Her response is so dry and quick-witted, I burst out laughing, despite its morbid nature. My god, Megan’s funny when she wants to be. And brave with her humour, too.
‘Sorry,’ she says, and I can hear she’s smiling, probably reluctantly. ‘That was horrible. Sorry, Dad.’
‘No, he would have loved it,’ I insist, staring at the floor. ‘I promise you. You have to laugh, don’t you. He knew that better than anyone.’
I hear her sigh softly and then a few moments later, the creak of the table next to mine as she climbs onto it. She clears her throat. We listen in silence to the classical music.
‘See? It’s not that weird, is it,’ I say brightly.
‘It’s fucking weird. I’ve never been more awkward.’
I smile again. ‘Think of the dream house. This is all in the name of the house.’
She hesitates and then asks quietly, ‘Have you been to it yet?’
It seems easier to have this conversation when we’re both forced to look at the floor and not at each other. ‘No. Have you?’
‘No. We should, though. It seems silly not to when it’s the reason we’re putting ourselves through all of this.’
‘Mm.’
When the masseuses return, our full body massages begin and while at first, I must admit that it is a little odd to be so aware of Megan right next to me, eventually I relax. It’s impossible not to as the masseuse works the tension out of my muscles. I’ve found massages extremely valuable recently, especially when it comes to the pain in my limbs. I can’t remember if I told Henry that or not. I’m so relaxed I almost fall asleep but then I’m jolted from dozing by Megan hissing, ‘Mum, stop it.’
‘Huh? Stop what?’
‘Making those sounds,’ she huffs.
I frown in confusion. ‘I didn’t realise I was making any sounds.’
‘Those soft “ah” and “ooh” sounds.’
‘I apologise, I didn’t realise. I will try not to make any “ah” and “ooh” sounds.’
‘Just don’t makeanysounds.’
