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Me Before You

Page 18

   


It was freezing outside, but I lingered out there, killing time while I selected pieces of wood. I was trying to calculate whether it was preferable to lose the odd finger to frostbite rather than put myself back into that room. But it was just too cold and my index finger, which I use for sewing stuff, went blue first and finally I had to admit defeat. I hauled the wood as slowly as possible, letting myself in to the annexe, and walked slowly back down the corridor. As I approached the living room I heard the woman’s voice, weaving its way through the slightly open door.
‘Actually, Will, there is another reason for us coming here,’ she was saying. ‘We … have some news.’
I hesitated by the door, the log basket braced between my hands.
‘I thought – well, we thought – that it would only be right to let you know … but, well, here’s the thing. Rupert and I are getting married.’
I stood very still, calculating whether I could turn round without being heard.
The woman continued, lamely. ‘Look, I know this is probably a bit of a shock to you. Actually, it was rather a shock to me. We – it – well, it only really started a long time after … ’
My arms had begun to ache. I glanced down at the basket, trying to work out what to do.
‘Well, you know you and I … we … ’
Another weighty silence.
‘Will, please say something.’
‘Congratulations,’ he said finally.
‘I know what you’re thinking. But neither of us meant for this to happen. Really. For an awful long time we were just friends. Friends who were concerned about you. It’s just that Rupert was the most terrific support to me after your accident –’
‘Big of him.’
‘Please don’t be like this. This is so awful. I have absolutely dreaded telling you. We both have.’
‘Evidently,’ Will said flatly.
Rupert’s voice broke in. ‘Look, we’re only telling you because we both care about you. We didn’t want you to hear it from someone else. But, you know, life goes on. You must know that. It’s been two years, after all.’
There was silence. I realized I did not want to listen to any more, and started to move softly away from the door, grunting slightly with the effort. But Rupert’s voice, when it came again, had grown in volume so that I could still hear him.
‘Come on, man. I know it must be terribly hard … all this. But if you care for Lissa at all, you must want her to have a good life.’
‘Say something, Will. Please.’
I could picture his face. I could see that look of his that managed to be both unreadable and to convey a kind of distant contempt.
‘Congratulations,’ he said, finally. ‘I’m sure you’ll both be very happy.’
Alicia started to protest then – something indistinct – but was interrupted by Rupert. ‘Come on, Lissa. I think we should leave. Will, it’s not like we came here expecting your blessing. It was a courtesy. Lissa thought – well, we both just thought – you should know. Sorry, old chap. I … I do hope things improve for you and I hope you do want to stay in touch when things … you know … when things settle down a bit.’
I heard footsteps, and stooped over the basket of logs, as if I had only just come in. I heard them in the corridor and then Alicia appeared in front of me. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she were about to cry.
‘Can I use the bathroom?’ she said, her voice thick and choked.
I slowly lifted a finger and pointed mutely in its direction.
She looked at me hard then, and I realized that what I felt probably showed on my face. I have never been much good at hiding my feelings.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said, after a pause. ‘But I did try. I really tried. For months. And he just pushed me away.’ Her jaw was rigid, her expression oddly furious. ‘He actually didn’t want me here. He made that very clear.’
She seemed to be waiting for me to say something.
‘It’s really none of my business,’ I said, eventually.
We both stood facing each other.
‘You know, you can only actually help someone who wants to be helped,’ she said.
And then she was gone.
I waited a couple of minutes, listening for the sound of their car disappearing down the drive, and then I went into the kitchen. I stood there and boiled the kettle even though I didn’t want a cup of tea. I flicked through a magazine that I had already read. Finally, I went back into the corridor and, with a grunt, picked up the log basket and hauled it into the living room, bumping it slightly on the door before I entered so that Will would know I was coming.
‘I was wondering if you wanted me to –’ I began.
But there was nobody there.
The room was empty.
It was then that I heard the crash. I ran out into the corridor just in time to hear another, followed by the sound of splintering glass. It was coming from Will’s bedroom. Oh God, please don’t let him have hurt himself. I panicked – Mrs Traynor’s warning drilled through my head. I had left him for more than fifteen minutes.
I ran down the corridor, slid to a halt in the doorway and stood, both hands gripping the door frame. Will was in the middle of the room, upright in his chair, a walking stick balanced across the armrests, so that it jutted eighteen inches to his left – a jousting stick. There was not a single photograph left on the long shelves; the expensive frames lay in pieces all over the floor, the carpet studded with glittering shards of glass. His lap was dusted with bits of glass and splintered wood frames. I took in the scene of destruction, feeling my heart rate slowly subside as I grasped that he was unhurt. Will was breathing hard, as if whatever he had done had cost him some effort.