Page 57 of You Were Always the One

‘Pretty bloody awful, if you really want to know.’

‘Oh fuck,’ she says. ‘I have ten minutes, Holls. Give me your elevator pitch.’

I frown. ‘My what?’

‘It’s what writers have up their sleeves in case they bump into a publisher… Never mind. Tell me what’s happened.’

I try to condense Miles’s vileness, Riggs’s masterful ability to frustrate, my worry about my kids. The fact that my head feels about to implode.

‘You free tonight?’ she says. ‘How about I come round?’

My whole being breathes a sigh of relief at this point. ‘That would be utterly wonderful,’ I say. ‘Please bring huge quantities of wine.’

‘Done,’ she says.

The thought of an evening with Rita takes the edge off how I’m feeling. But there’s still the sense I’m standing on a cliff edge. When Max and Grace come home, neither of them asks about their father.

‘Auntie Rita’s coming over,’ I tell them, gratified to see their faces light up.

‘Cool.’ Max looks brighter than he has in days. ‘Is she staying?’

‘Not sure,’ I say. ‘But probably. Any reason you ask?’

‘I thought it would be nice for you,’ he mumbles. ‘You’re so busy looking after everyone else.’

His words bring a lump to my throat. ‘That’s so nice,’ I say quietly. ‘I love looking after everyone. You do know that, don’t you?’

‘Yeah.’ He glances at me. ‘It’s still good Auntie Rita’s coming, though.’

My heart feels warm inside that my son shows more empathy than his father ever has. ‘What shall we have tonight?’ I ask. ‘I could make pasta – or we could treat ourselves to a Chinese?’ I glance at Max. ‘We could have a bit of an early birthday celebration.’

‘Chinese!’ Grace is already going to get the menu.

‘Yeah,’ Max says.

Miles stays upstairs. ‘I’m not hungry,’ is all he says when I tell him we’re ordering Chinese.

I make him a sandwich and take it upstairs to him. ‘Rita’s coming for the evening,’ I tell him. ‘She’d probably like to see you.’

‘I’ll be getting an early night. I don’t suppose she’ll miss me,’ he says shortly.

That evening, after Rita’s arrival, the four of us sit in the kitchen devouring delicious food from the enormous delivery we order. We talk, we laugh. We are how we should be but rarely are when Miles is with us.

‘That was so good.’ Rita leans back, holding her stomach. ‘Let me pour us more wine.’

‘I’ll get it.’ I start to get up.

But Max beats me to it. ‘Sit down, Mum. I’ll get it.’

When my children go to bed, Rita opens another bottle of wine. ‘We need to talk about you, Holls. What are you going to do?’ she asks.

Not wanting my children to overhear, I go to the door and close it. ‘I can’t do anything,’ I say quietly. ‘Part of me wishes Miles had left to be with Patricia. But I don’t think that’s likely now.’ I pause. ‘I looked her up. She’s a hotshot corporate lawyer.’

Rita’s eyes are very round. ‘Sounds more like his type than you, I must say. Why don’t you call her and ask if he can move in with her?’ Rita says bluntly. ‘Sorry. That wasn’t helpful. I guess you can’t do anything until you know what his prognosis is.’ She pauses. ‘How’s it going – having him here?’

‘Weird. Difficult.’ My eyes suddenly fill with tears. ‘Do you know what is really hard about this? I’m a nurse. It’s instinctive to want to look after him. I have the skills. But he doesn’t want my help.’

‘That’s Miles for you,’ she says dryly. ‘He always was an ungracious bastard.’