I knew how happy I’d make Georgia if I agreed to return, but this was a huge decision and not one I could make in one day.
‘I’ll keep thinking about it,’ I said, my voice soft. ‘I can’t promise you more than that.’
She gave me a weak smile. ‘I suppose thinking about it’s better than a firm no.’
‘You won’t say anything to Mum and Dad in the meantime? If they knew I was thinking about it but decided to stay in Newcastle, I’m not sure they’d forgive me. I already feel like I’m such a disappointment.’
‘You’re not. I just think that, like all of us, they’re struggling to understand why you’ve stayed away. They understood you leaving – they really did – and they might have continued that way if you’d…’ She lowered her eyes as she tailed off.
‘If I’d come back to visit more often,’ I finished for her.
‘A few more phone calls even?’ she suggested.
‘I kept meaning to but…’ I shook my head. ‘Anyway, I want to try to fix it but I’m going to need your help because I can’t do it on my own. I’ve already made that mistake.’
She pushed her chair back and wrapped her arms round me. ‘You’re never on your own. You can count on me always.’
The only response I could give was to squeeze her tighter. I might have distanced myself from everyone physically and emotionally but Georgia had refused to let me go and I couldn’t be more grateful. Her constant messages, phone calls and FaceTime requests as well as the intermittent trips to Newcastle –I need some new clothesorI’d love to see that show at the theatre– had been a lifeline for me and I’m not sure how I’d have made it this far without her.
Although I hadn’t made a decision about my future home, I had finally admitted to myself that running away hadn’t been the answer. But when the question washow do you get over the death of your eighteen-year-old son and the subsequent end of your marriage, was there actually an answer?
5
There was a joint of beef in the oven and Georgia, Mark and I had just finished preparing the vegetables when Dad rang on Sunday morning to say that the celebrations had taken it out of Mum so they were going to stay at home and give her a chance to rest.
‘You’ll still stay, won’t you?’ Georgia asked, looking at me with sad puppy-dog eyes.
I could hardly abandon them when we’d just prepared a mountain of food so I stayed for lunch and was glad I did. Keira and Regan had the same close sibling relationship as Georgia and me, full of affectionate teasing and the ability to tell it as it is without causing offence. Observing the banter between them over lunch, with Clarke as referee, was lovely but it was another reminder of how much I’d missed by leaving. It was also a reminder of who was missing. Growing up, Noah had been as close to his cousins as they were to each other. When Regan discovered he was attracted to other boys, Noah was the first person he told and, when Noah realised he wanted to be more than friends with our neighbour Jessie, it was Keira he turned to for advice. If Noah was here today, would the three of them still be as close? Would he be joining in the ribbing like he used to? I’d like to think he would.
Experiencing that same feeling I’d had at Mum’s eightieth of being out of touch with what was going on with my family, I waited for a pause in the conversation and asked Regan and Clarke about their approaching auction.
‘It’s all from one house clearance and completely out of the blue,’ Regan said. ‘The client passed away at the cracking age of 101. He had no living relatives so he left instructions in his will that we were to do the house clearance with the profits split between five local charities.’
‘It took weeks to go through everything,’ Clarke continued. ‘He lived in this enormous Victorian mansion and it was like stepping back in time. A few mod cons had been added for comfort but, other than that, it had barely changed. The things we found! Completely in our element, we were.’
Between them, they described some of the items – valuable paintings, clocks, vases, dinner sets and even clothing.
‘One of my favourite finds was a Penny-farthing,’ Regan said. ‘It looked to be in good working condition so Clarke dared me to ride it.’ He clapped his hand to his heart. ‘I’ve never been so scared in my whole life. It’s so high.’
The pair of them were in fits of giggles as they described Regan’s attempts at riding the old-fashioned bicycle with the enormous front wheel and tiny back one.
‘Did you have a go too, Clarke?’ I asked.
‘God, no! I had a really bad fall off a regular bike when I was ten – broke several bones – and I’ve never been on one since so no way was I attempting that beast. Regan’s the cyclist, not that he does that much these days.’
I was surprised to hear that because Regan had been heavily into mountain-biking. He and Noah had spent many a weekend exploring the local trails.
‘You don’t get up to Whinlatter Forest anymore?’ I asked.
Regan shuffled in his chair, looking uncomfortable. ‘It’s not the same without…’ He tailed off, his shoulders sagging.
‘Without Noah?’ I asked, my throat burning.
‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ I said, gently. ‘I get it. When you’ve always done something with somebody and they’re not there anymore, it’s… it’s not the same, exactly as you say.’
There was a moment’s silence and it struck me how little we talked about Noah as a family. Why was that? Was it because I didn’t tend to talk about him and they were taking my lead, not wanting to upset me? That wasn’t fair on them.
