He gave me a weak smile at the feeble joke. As I stood there clutching Noah’s hoodie to my chest, I felt like I was at a crossroads where what I said or did next would have a profound effect on our lives going forward. Flynn was in pain. I could see it in every movement, hear it in every word, feel it emanating from him, and I knew that my obsessive search for answers had made things worse for him. Deep down, I knew he was right about so many things. Wedidneed to empty Noah’s room. We needed to redecorate and repurpose it and, in fact, moving house might even be an option. I found it too hard to spend time in Noah’s room and, as a result, our beautiful home no longer felt like a sanctuary. Flynn was also right that I needed to let go and accept that I was never going to find out why Noah took those drugs or who gave him them. Deep down I knew this. Very deep down. But the red mist still lingered close to the surface.
Noah really had beenone of the few teens in this world who actually kept a tidy roomand it had been a standing joke in our family.Are you sure you’re a teenager? Have you got a cleaning pixie hidden under your bed?I could have responded with a smile right now. I could have even made a joke –Have you found the cleaning pixie yet?If I had, I’d have broken that tension between us. We might have laughed together, shared some anecdotes, talked, cried, hugged and somehow found a way through this. But that wasn’t the road I chose to take. I was in self-destruct mode. My world was still spinning off its axis and I might as well blow the whole thing up.
‘I can’t do this,’ I said.
‘I know. That’s why I’m doing it.’
‘Not the room. This. Us. It’s not working.’
I didn’t know where those words had come from. I hadn’t planned on ending things. Or had I? I’d repeatedly acknowledged to myself that we couldn’t go on like this.Somethinghad to happen. Was separating that thing?
Flynn stared at me for a moment, his eyes full of sorrow. ‘We’ll get through it. It’s just going to take some time.’
‘I think we’re beyond that.’
He shook his head. ‘You can’t mean that.’
‘I do.’
‘Mel! No!’ He took a couple of steps towards me but I backed away.
‘I’ll book into a B&B.’
‘Can’t we talk?’
‘What difference will it make? You’re so calm and I’m so angry and I can’t… It’s just… This is killing me, Flynn. I need some space.’
He swallowed hard. ‘And after you’ve had some space?’
I lowered my eyes. I couldn’t give him an answer. Well, not the one I suspected he wanted to hear. I needed to think. I needed to breathe. I couldn’t do either while Flynn was around.
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘Always have, always will. That’s never going to change.’
Did I feel the same somewhere under the pain and anger? At that moment, I wasn’t sure.
‘I should go,’ I whispered.
‘Don’t.’
Raising my eyes to his nearly broke me. ‘I have to.’
Tears trailed down his cheeks. ‘Then I’d better let you, but don’t forget what I just said. I meant every word of it.’
Flynn walked towards the door, then paused. ‘I hope you find the answers you need, Mel. And when you do – or if you hit a point where you decide you don’t need them anymore – I’ll be waiting for you. Even if that takes weeks or months. Even if it takes years.’
He left Noah’s bedroom and, moments later, I heard the front door close and his car start.
* * *
I spent that first night in a B&B but my parents insisted I stay with them and, unable to think of a reason not to, I moved back into my old bedroom at Derwent Rise. A week after walking out on Flynn, I woke up on my forty-sixth birthday to a moment of clarity. I needed to leave Willowdale and start afresh somewhere new. A place that didn’t remind me of everything I’d lost. A place where I didn’t see sympathy in the eyes of everyone I met. A place where I didn’t feel guilty all the time that I wasn’t strong enough to support the people around me who were also hurting because they’d lost a grandson, nephew, cousin, friend.
It was a Wednesday so Flynn would be on site working on one of our long-term projects. I prepared a short handwritten letter, told my parents I was going for a drive, went to Darrowby’s to collect a bundle of cardboard removals boxes, then parked on the drive at The Bothy.
I felt strangely calm as I packed up my belongings and loaded them into my car. The door to Noah’s bedroom was closed and I paused on the landing, staring at it for several minutes, but I didn’t go in.
Back downstairs, I placed my goodbye letter on the worktop by the kettle. My stomach churned as I read it.
Flynn
