Page 28 of One Last Thing
Every muscle in my body tenses. ‘No, why would I? We broke up.’
‘All right, no need to snap at me, I was only asking.’
‘I wasn’t snapping! I don’t understand why you’d ask that question. He’s no longer part of my life, so why would I ever hear from him or talk to him?’
‘I don’t know, sometimes these things are complicated,’ she says, looking at me as though I’m the unreasonable one here.
‘Not really. The relationship ended. That’s not complicated.’
‘I know, it’s a shame.’
Why does she do this? What is her goal here?
I swivel in my chair to angle myself towards her. ‘Why is it ashame?’
She sighs, exhausted all of a sudden. ‘Because it was lovely to see you so happy, my darling, that’s all. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. And I’m sorry it didn’t work out between you and Dominic. Obviously, you weren’t as happy as I thought.’
‘Obviously.’ I reach forwards to finish the contents of my drink.
‘You didn’t want to give back the ring?’
I slowly place the empty glass back down, looking at her, confused.
She nods at the emerald. ‘I can understand why. It’s hard to let go. Not everyone understands that, when it’s you who has made the decision to end it. It’s easy to forget that making that decision is equally as heartbreaking in its own way. I want you to know that if you’d like to talk about it all, then I’m here for you.’
Looking out at the sea, I take in the view one last time. It really is spectacular here, Dad. I know you loved it. Maybe you thought this would be a happy trip. But I don’t think I can feel how I used to here.
I turn back to Mum, making sure I keep my voice calm and collected as I say, ‘You know, I’m not sure what I’m angrier at: you thinking that the decision I made to end my relationship is in any way similar to how you ripped apart our family, or the fact that you had so little interest in my relationship that you thinkthiswas my engagement ring.’
The legs of my chair scrape against the stone as I push it back. She flinches at the sound. ‘I’ll pay for my half on the way out,’ I tell her, before picking up my box of Dad’s ashes and walking away.
10
DAWN
As a toddler, Megan went through a phase where she’d only drink her evening milk whilst ‘Bring Him Home’ from the West End musicalLes Misérableswas playing in the background. It had begun when Henry was out and she was having a tantrum because she’d tried to tug my dangling earrings out and I’d had to take them out and put them up high on a shelf so she couldn’t get at them. Nothing could stop the consequent wails at the injustice of it all and I was getting flustered, not used to handling her like this by myself, so I put on the radio in the hope it might distract her for a moment, and it happened to be a show celebrating the best of musical soundtracks. ‘Bring Him Home’ was playing. Megan was mesmerised. So mesmerised, that I was able to go prepare her milk and return. She drank it calmly.
The next day, I bought the album while I was out. Henry was working late a lot that week, which was rare, so it became something of a routine: me putting on theLes Misérablessoundtrack and then pulling Megan up on my lap so she could drink her milk. Sitting together like that, I was at the perfect angle to smell her hair and study her eyelashes and the slope of her nose, and marvel at her squidgy cheeks. All her tantrums from the day and my failings as a mother were forgotten by both of us in that peaceful moment.
When I was out a few days later and Henry put her to bed on his own, he hit a snag.
‘She wouldn’t drink her milk,’ he told me when I got back. ‘She refused it. She was in a terrible mood when I took her upstairs.’
‘Did you play “Bring Him Home”?’
‘No. Why would I do that?’
‘She likes to listen to it while she drinks her milk.’
The next evening, he was there when I put on the music and she settled down on my lap to drink her milk and listen. It was quite the feeling, that. Knowing her better than anyone else. That didn’t happen often, but for once, I felt needed.
I think about that while I sit at La Voile at the table on my own, looking out at the spectacular view, and I consider the cruelty of parenthood. How you go from playing a major role in your child’s life to being a helpless member of the audience, only allowed to help if they shout, ‘Line’. It’s been a long time since Megan needed anything from me.
Still. I should have known about the ring.
***
I don’t join Nico and Megan on the boat ride home. Nico comes to tell me that they’re ready to go when I am, but I inform him I’ll get a taxi back to the hotel and see them there if Henry’s rules allow –he confirms they do. Megan will think I’m avoiding the boat because of her, but the heat has made me tired and I’d rather sit in a car that will get me home in half an hour rather than a boat that will take much longer. Besides, it might be nice for the two of them to havea little catch up. As I came in from the sea earlier, I could see them talking and they seemed to be at ease.
