Me Before You
Page 101
‘I know. You’re right.’
‘And you two have been together a long time. You’re bound to get crushes on other people.’
‘Especially while Patrick is obsessed with being Marathon Man.’
‘And you might go off Will again. I mean, I remember when you thought he was an arse.’
‘I still do sometimes.’
My sister reached for a tissue and dabbed at my eyes. Then she thumbed at something on my cheek.
‘All that said, the college idea is good. Because – let’s be blunt – whether it all goes tits up with Will, or whether it doesn’t, you’re still going to need a proper job. You’re not going to want to be a carer forever.’
‘It’s not going to go “tits up”, as you call it, with Will. He’s … he’s going to be okay.’
‘Sure he is.’
Mum was calling Thomas. We could hear her, singing it beneath us in the kitchen. ‘Thomas. Tomtomtomtom Thomas … ’
Treena sighed and rubbed at her eyes. ‘You going back to Patrick’s tonight?’
‘Yes.’
‘You want to grab a quick drink at the Spotted Dog and show me these plans, then? I’ll see if Mum will put Thomas to bed for me. Come on, you can treat me, seeing as you’re now loaded enough to go to college.’
It was a quarter to ten by the time I got back to Patrick’s.
My holiday plans, astonishingly, had met with Katrina’s complete approval. She hadn’t even done her usual thing of adding, ‘Yes, but it would be even better if you … ’ There had been a point where I wondered if she was doing it just to be nice, because I was obviously going a bit nuts. But she kept saying things like, ‘Wow, I can’t believe you found this! You’ve got to take lots of pictures of him bungee jumping.’ And, ‘Imagine his face when you tell him about the skydiving! It’s going to be brilliant.’
Anyone watching us at the pub might have thought that we were two friends who actually really quite liked each other.
Still mulling this over, I let myself in quietly. The flat was dark from outside and I wondered if Patrick was having an early night as part of his intensive training. I dropped my bag on the floor in the hall and pushed at the living-room door, thinking as I did so that it was nice of him to have left a light on for me.
And then I saw him. He was sitting at a table laid with two places, a candle flickering between them. As I closed the door behind me, he stood up. The candle was burnt halfway down to the base.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
I stared at him.
‘I was an idiot. You’re right. This job of yours is only for six months, and I have been behaving like a child. I should be proud that you’re doing something so worthwhile, and taking it all so seriously. I was just a bit … thrown. So I’m sorry. Really.’
He held out a hand. I took it.
‘It’s good that you’re trying to help him. It’s admirable.’
‘Thank you.’ I squeezed his hand.
When he spoke again, it was after a short breath, as if he had successfully managed some pre-rehearsed speech. ‘I’ve made supper. I’m afraid it’s salad again.’ He reached past me into the fridge, and pulled out two plates. ‘I promise we’ll go somewhere for a blowout meal once the Viking is over. Or maybe once I’m on to carb loading. I just … ’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘I guess I haven’t been able to think about much else lately. I guess that’s been part of the problem. And you’re right. There’s no reason you should follow me about. It’s my thing. You have every right to work instead.’
‘Patrick … ’ I said.
‘I don’t want to argue with you, Lou. Forgive me?’
His eyes were anxious and he smelt of cologne. Those two facts descended upon me slowly like a weight.
‘Sit down, anyway,’ he said. ‘Let’s eat, and then … I don’t know. Enjoy ourselves. Talk about something else. Not running.’ He forced a laugh.
I sat down and looked at the table.
Then I smiled. ‘This is really nice,’ I said.
Patrick really could do 101 things with turkey breast.
We ate the green salad, the pasta salad and seafood salad and an exotic fruit salad that he had prepared for pudding, and I drank wine while he stuck to mineral water. It took us a while, but we did begin to relax. There, in front of me, was a Patrick I hadn’t seen for some time. He was funny, attentive. He policed himself rigidly so that he didn’t say anything about running or marathons, and laughed whenever he caught the conversation veering in that direction. I felt his feet meet mine under the table and our legs entwine, and slowly I felt something that had felt tight and uncomfortable begin to ease in my chest.
My sister was right. My life had become strange and disconnected from everyone I knew – Will’s plight and his secrets had swamped me. I had to make sure that I didn’t lose sight of the rest of me.
I began to feel guilty about the conversation I had had earlier with my sister. Patrick wouldn’t let me get up, not even to help him clear the dishes. At a quarter past eleven he rose and moved the plates and bowls to the kitchenette and began to load the dishwasher. I sat, listening to him as he talked to me through the little doorway. I was rubbing at the point where my neck met my shoulder, trying to release some of the knots that seemed to be firmly embedded there. I closed my eyes, trying to relax into it, so that it was a few minutes before I realized the conversation had stopped.
‘And you two have been together a long time. You’re bound to get crushes on other people.’
‘Especially while Patrick is obsessed with being Marathon Man.’
‘And you might go off Will again. I mean, I remember when you thought he was an arse.’
‘I still do sometimes.’
My sister reached for a tissue and dabbed at my eyes. Then she thumbed at something on my cheek.
‘All that said, the college idea is good. Because – let’s be blunt – whether it all goes tits up with Will, or whether it doesn’t, you’re still going to need a proper job. You’re not going to want to be a carer forever.’
‘It’s not going to go “tits up”, as you call it, with Will. He’s … he’s going to be okay.’
‘Sure he is.’
Mum was calling Thomas. We could hear her, singing it beneath us in the kitchen. ‘Thomas. Tomtomtomtom Thomas … ’
Treena sighed and rubbed at her eyes. ‘You going back to Patrick’s tonight?’
‘Yes.’
‘You want to grab a quick drink at the Spotted Dog and show me these plans, then? I’ll see if Mum will put Thomas to bed for me. Come on, you can treat me, seeing as you’re now loaded enough to go to college.’
It was a quarter to ten by the time I got back to Patrick’s.
My holiday plans, astonishingly, had met with Katrina’s complete approval. She hadn’t even done her usual thing of adding, ‘Yes, but it would be even better if you … ’ There had been a point where I wondered if she was doing it just to be nice, because I was obviously going a bit nuts. But she kept saying things like, ‘Wow, I can’t believe you found this! You’ve got to take lots of pictures of him bungee jumping.’ And, ‘Imagine his face when you tell him about the skydiving! It’s going to be brilliant.’
Anyone watching us at the pub might have thought that we were two friends who actually really quite liked each other.
Still mulling this over, I let myself in quietly. The flat was dark from outside and I wondered if Patrick was having an early night as part of his intensive training. I dropped my bag on the floor in the hall and pushed at the living-room door, thinking as I did so that it was nice of him to have left a light on for me.
And then I saw him. He was sitting at a table laid with two places, a candle flickering between them. As I closed the door behind me, he stood up. The candle was burnt halfway down to the base.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
I stared at him.
‘I was an idiot. You’re right. This job of yours is only for six months, and I have been behaving like a child. I should be proud that you’re doing something so worthwhile, and taking it all so seriously. I was just a bit … thrown. So I’m sorry. Really.’
He held out a hand. I took it.
‘It’s good that you’re trying to help him. It’s admirable.’
‘Thank you.’ I squeezed his hand.
When he spoke again, it was after a short breath, as if he had successfully managed some pre-rehearsed speech. ‘I’ve made supper. I’m afraid it’s salad again.’ He reached past me into the fridge, and pulled out two plates. ‘I promise we’ll go somewhere for a blowout meal once the Viking is over. Or maybe once I’m on to carb loading. I just … ’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘I guess I haven’t been able to think about much else lately. I guess that’s been part of the problem. And you’re right. There’s no reason you should follow me about. It’s my thing. You have every right to work instead.’
‘Patrick … ’ I said.
‘I don’t want to argue with you, Lou. Forgive me?’
His eyes were anxious and he smelt of cologne. Those two facts descended upon me slowly like a weight.
‘Sit down, anyway,’ he said. ‘Let’s eat, and then … I don’t know. Enjoy ourselves. Talk about something else. Not running.’ He forced a laugh.
I sat down and looked at the table.
Then I smiled. ‘This is really nice,’ I said.
Patrick really could do 101 things with turkey breast.
We ate the green salad, the pasta salad and seafood salad and an exotic fruit salad that he had prepared for pudding, and I drank wine while he stuck to mineral water. It took us a while, but we did begin to relax. There, in front of me, was a Patrick I hadn’t seen for some time. He was funny, attentive. He policed himself rigidly so that he didn’t say anything about running or marathons, and laughed whenever he caught the conversation veering in that direction. I felt his feet meet mine under the table and our legs entwine, and slowly I felt something that had felt tight and uncomfortable begin to ease in my chest.
My sister was right. My life had become strange and disconnected from everyone I knew – Will’s plight and his secrets had swamped me. I had to make sure that I didn’t lose sight of the rest of me.
I began to feel guilty about the conversation I had had earlier with my sister. Patrick wouldn’t let me get up, not even to help him clear the dishes. At a quarter past eleven he rose and moved the plates and bowls to the kitchenette and began to load the dishwasher. I sat, listening to him as he talked to me through the little doorway. I was rubbing at the point where my neck met my shoulder, trying to release some of the knots that seemed to be firmly embedded there. I closed my eyes, trying to relax into it, so that it was a few minutes before I realized the conversation had stopped.
