Me Before You
Page 121
‘Oh Jesus Christ, the poor fella. And poor you. Oh Jesus.’
I’m not sure I ever saw Dad look so shocked.
‘What a bloody mess.’
‘You went through all this? Without saying anything? And all we got was a postcard about scuba diving?’ My mother was incredulous. ‘We thought you were having the holiday of a lifetime.’
‘I wasn’t alone. Treena knew,’ she said, looking at me. ‘Treena was great.’
‘I didn’t do anything,’ I said, hugging Thomas. He had lost interest in the conversation now that Mum had put an open tin of Celebrations in front of him. ‘I was just an ear. You did the lot. You came up with all the ideas.’
‘And some ideas they turned out to be.’ She leant against Dad, sounding bereft.
Dad tilted her chin so that she had to look at him. ‘But you did everything you could.’
‘And I failed.’
‘Who says you failed?’ Dad stroked her hair back from her face. His expression was tender. ‘I’m just thinking of what I know about Will Traynor, what I know about men like him. And I’ll say one thing to you. I’m not sure anyone in the world was ever going to persuade that man once he’d set his mind to something. He’s who he is. You can’t make people change who they are.’
‘But his parents! They can’t let him kill himself,’ said Mum. ‘What kind of people are they?’
‘They’re normal people, Mum. Mrs Traynor just doesn’t know what else she can do.’
‘Well, not bloody taking him to this clinic would be a start.’ Mum was angry. Two points of colour had risen to her cheekbones. ‘I would fight for you two, for Thomas, until my dying breath.’
‘Even if he’d already tried to kill himself?’ I said. ‘In really grim ways?’
‘He’s ill, Katrina. He’s depressed. People who are vulnerable should not be given the chance to do something that they’ll … ’ She tailed off in mute fury and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. ‘That woman must be heartless. Heartless. And to think they got Louisa involved in all this. She’s a magistrate, for goodness’ sake. You’d think a magistrate would know what was right or wrong. Of all people. I’ve a good mind to head down there now and bring him back here.’
‘It’s complicated, Mum.’
‘No. It’s not. He’s vulnerable and there is no way on earth she should entertain the thought of it. I’m shocked. That poor man. That poor man.’ She got up from the table, taking the remains of the chicken with her, and stalked out to the kitchen.
Louisa watched her go, her expression a little stunned. Mum was never angry. I think the last time we heard her raise her voice was 1993.
Dad shook his head, his mind apparently elsewhere. ‘I’ve just thought – no wonder I haven’t seen Mr Traynor. I wondered where he was. I assumed they were all off on some family holiday.’
‘They’ve … they’ve gone?’
‘He’s not been in these last two days.’
Lou sat back down and slumped in her chair.
‘Oh shit,’ I said, and then clamped my hands around Thomas’s ears.
‘It’s tomorrow.’
Lou looked at me, and I glanced up at the calendar on the wall.
‘The thirteenth of August. It’s tomorrow.’
Lou did nothing that last day. She was up before me, staring out of the kitchen window. It rained, and then it cleared, and then it rained again. She lay on the sofa with Granddad, and she drank the tea that Mum made her, and every half an hour or so I watched her gaze slide silently towards the mantelpiece and check the clock. It was awful to watch. I took Thomas swimming and I tried to make her come with us. I said Mum would mind him if she wanted to go to the shops with me later. I said I’d take her to the pub, just the two of us, but she refused every offer.
‘What if I made a mistake, Treen?’ she said, so quietly that only I could hear it.
I glanced up at Granddad, but he had eyes only for the racing. I think Dad was still putting on a sneaky bet each way for him, even though he denied it to Mum.
‘What do you mean?’
‘What if I should have gone with him?’
‘But … you said you couldn’t.’
Outside, the skies were grey. She stared through our immaculate windows at the miserable day beyond.
‘I know what I said. But I just can’t bear not knowing what’s happening.’ Her face crumpled a little. ‘I can’t bear not knowing how he’s feeling. I can’t bear the fact that I never even got to say goodbye.’
‘Couldn’t you go now? Maybe try and get a flight?’
‘It’s too late,’ she said. And then she closed her eyes. ‘I’d never get there in time. There’s only two hours left until … until it stops for the day. I looked it up. On the internet.’
I waited.
‘They don’t … do … it … after five thirty.’ She shook her head in bemusement. ‘Something to do with the Swiss officials who have to be there. They don’t like … certifying … things outside office hours.’
I almost laughed. But I didn’t know what to say to her. I couldn’t imagine having to wait, as she was waiting, knowing what might be happening in some far-off place. I had never loved a man like she seemed to love Will. I had liked men, sure, and wanted to sleep with them, but sometimes I wondered if I was missing some sensitivity chip. I couldn’t imagine crying over anyone I’d been with. The only equivalent was if I thought about Thomas, waiting to die in some strange country, and as soon as that thought came to mind it made something inside me actually flip over, it was so hideous. So I stuck that in the back of my mental filing cabinet too, under the drawer labelled: Unthinkable.
I’m not sure I ever saw Dad look so shocked.
‘What a bloody mess.’
‘You went through all this? Without saying anything? And all we got was a postcard about scuba diving?’ My mother was incredulous. ‘We thought you were having the holiday of a lifetime.’
‘I wasn’t alone. Treena knew,’ she said, looking at me. ‘Treena was great.’
‘I didn’t do anything,’ I said, hugging Thomas. He had lost interest in the conversation now that Mum had put an open tin of Celebrations in front of him. ‘I was just an ear. You did the lot. You came up with all the ideas.’
‘And some ideas they turned out to be.’ She leant against Dad, sounding bereft.
Dad tilted her chin so that she had to look at him. ‘But you did everything you could.’
‘And I failed.’
‘Who says you failed?’ Dad stroked her hair back from her face. His expression was tender. ‘I’m just thinking of what I know about Will Traynor, what I know about men like him. And I’ll say one thing to you. I’m not sure anyone in the world was ever going to persuade that man once he’d set his mind to something. He’s who he is. You can’t make people change who they are.’
‘But his parents! They can’t let him kill himself,’ said Mum. ‘What kind of people are they?’
‘They’re normal people, Mum. Mrs Traynor just doesn’t know what else she can do.’
‘Well, not bloody taking him to this clinic would be a start.’ Mum was angry. Two points of colour had risen to her cheekbones. ‘I would fight for you two, for Thomas, until my dying breath.’
‘Even if he’d already tried to kill himself?’ I said. ‘In really grim ways?’
‘He’s ill, Katrina. He’s depressed. People who are vulnerable should not be given the chance to do something that they’ll … ’ She tailed off in mute fury and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. ‘That woman must be heartless. Heartless. And to think they got Louisa involved in all this. She’s a magistrate, for goodness’ sake. You’d think a magistrate would know what was right or wrong. Of all people. I’ve a good mind to head down there now and bring him back here.’
‘It’s complicated, Mum.’
‘No. It’s not. He’s vulnerable and there is no way on earth she should entertain the thought of it. I’m shocked. That poor man. That poor man.’ She got up from the table, taking the remains of the chicken with her, and stalked out to the kitchen.
Louisa watched her go, her expression a little stunned. Mum was never angry. I think the last time we heard her raise her voice was 1993.
Dad shook his head, his mind apparently elsewhere. ‘I’ve just thought – no wonder I haven’t seen Mr Traynor. I wondered where he was. I assumed they were all off on some family holiday.’
‘They’ve … they’ve gone?’
‘He’s not been in these last two days.’
Lou sat back down and slumped in her chair.
‘Oh shit,’ I said, and then clamped my hands around Thomas’s ears.
‘It’s tomorrow.’
Lou looked at me, and I glanced up at the calendar on the wall.
‘The thirteenth of August. It’s tomorrow.’
Lou did nothing that last day. She was up before me, staring out of the kitchen window. It rained, and then it cleared, and then it rained again. She lay on the sofa with Granddad, and she drank the tea that Mum made her, and every half an hour or so I watched her gaze slide silently towards the mantelpiece and check the clock. It was awful to watch. I took Thomas swimming and I tried to make her come with us. I said Mum would mind him if she wanted to go to the shops with me later. I said I’d take her to the pub, just the two of us, but she refused every offer.
‘What if I made a mistake, Treen?’ she said, so quietly that only I could hear it.
I glanced up at Granddad, but he had eyes only for the racing. I think Dad was still putting on a sneaky bet each way for him, even though he denied it to Mum.
‘What do you mean?’
‘What if I should have gone with him?’
‘But … you said you couldn’t.’
Outside, the skies were grey. She stared through our immaculate windows at the miserable day beyond.
‘I know what I said. But I just can’t bear not knowing what’s happening.’ Her face crumpled a little. ‘I can’t bear not knowing how he’s feeling. I can’t bear the fact that I never even got to say goodbye.’
‘Couldn’t you go now? Maybe try and get a flight?’
‘It’s too late,’ she said. And then she closed her eyes. ‘I’d never get there in time. There’s only two hours left until … until it stops for the day. I looked it up. On the internet.’
I waited.
‘They don’t … do … it … after five thirty.’ She shook her head in bemusement. ‘Something to do with the Swiss officials who have to be there. They don’t like … certifying … things outside office hours.’
I almost laughed. But I didn’t know what to say to her. I couldn’t imagine having to wait, as she was waiting, knowing what might be happening in some far-off place. I had never loved a man like she seemed to love Will. I had liked men, sure, and wanted to sleep with them, but sometimes I wondered if I was missing some sensitivity chip. I couldn’t imagine crying over anyone I’d been with. The only equivalent was if I thought about Thomas, waiting to die in some strange country, and as soon as that thought came to mind it made something inside me actually flip over, it was so hideous. So I stuck that in the back of my mental filing cabinet too, under the drawer labelled: Unthinkable.
