‘Again, emotional blackmail is not going to help. I’m totally comfortable with disappointing him or coming off as the mean parent if I believe it’s in his best interest. You’re the one who got his hopes up, not me.’
‘Right. Sorry. I’ll bring him straight home. Tell him it was my fault, I should have discussed it with you earlier.’
The door to the bathroom crashed open as Bronwyn and another runner tumbled through, sweaty and laughing, accompanied by the sound of a roomful of partygoers giving their all to ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’.‘All right, Ames? Nathan’s looking for you, wanted to dance.’
I thought about that for a couple of seconds. Did one of those lightning-quick parental calculations, assessing the pros and cons and deciding that I didn’t actually have a good reason for making Joey come home now, just to be picked up by Sean first thing in the morning. Pretended it had nothing to do with me dancing with Nathan. Decided that even if it did, so what? It was about time I wanted to stay out and have some fun for once.
‘No, he can stay. But I’m serious about ditching the games, Sean.’
‘Thanks, Amy. I can’t tell you how much it means to us…’
So they were anusnow, Sean and Joey. Was there any of that cinnamon punch left?
39
Stop Being a Loser Programme
Day One Hundred and One
Three glasses of wine later, the remaining few Larks sat strewn amongst the debris, as the staff attempted to clear up around us. Mel, despite giving up alcohol when Tate was born, was nevertheless drunk on communal dancing, sleep-deprivation for all the best reasons, and a truckload of endorphins.
‘You lot!’ she exclaimed, leaning her head on Dani’s shoulder. ‘Are the best Larks a woman could wish for. I can’t believe all what you’re doing for my little boy. That triathlon is going to be one of the best blummin’ days of my whole life. All these years, it’s been all up ter me. Meetings and phone calls and appeals and fighting to get my kids what they need. All the while knowing that if I drop the ball, if I mess something up or get it wrong, it’s me kids who will suffer. And now. Now… I’m not on me own any more. I just can’t tell yer…’ She dabbed her eyes, hiccupped and did an enormous sniff. ‘Right, someone change subject for goodness’ sake. It’s supposed to be a party. Eh – I know – did you hear that Amelia Piper is gonna be there on the day to open the centre?’
Oh no.My heart froze.
‘Really?’ Bronwyn leant in. ‘Wasn’t there some massive scandal about her, ages ago?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Dani nodded. ‘She went MIA. Never turned up to the Olympics. What year was it?’
2004.
‘2004,’ Marjory said.
‘There was that whole Search for Amelia thing!’ Bronwyn exclaimed. ‘And then it turned out she’d just run off with some bloke, and she got sued by her own parents.’
‘Oh yeah, I saw them on the telly…’
I made it three steps out the café door.
Nathan found me, slumped against the freezing cold wall, wiping the vomit off my chin. He handed me a napkin, waited while I cleaned up, then held out a glass of water.
‘Are you okay for a minute while I sort you a lift? It might take a while to get a taxi this time in the morning.’
‘No.’ I cleared my throat, tried again. ‘No, I can walk. It was just the heat and the wine and everything. I needed a minute to clear my head, but I’m fine.’ Hah. If fine meant my vital organs were disintegrating.
He studied me for a moment, unconvinced.
I pushed away from the wall and stood as straight as I could manage, chin up, swimmer’s shoulders back, hands raised in a ‘see?’ gesture, using everything I’d got to override the chaos in my ribcage. ‘And I don’t need you to walk me home, either. It’s eight minutes. I’m feeling great now. You shouldn’t just disappear without saying good night to everyone.’
He shook his head in mock frustration. ‘I’ve already said good night. And I can follow you like last time, or we can walk together. Either way, you know I’m seeing you home.’
Underneath my complete freak out, I did know that. ‘Okay then.’
He held out a hand. ‘Would it help?’
I nodded. Nathan gently took hold of my hand, and, honestly, as long as I focused on that, it felt as though nothing else could touch me. Like being at home, in the safety of my bed, only infinitely better because I was still outside, breathing in cold, crisp air as opposed to stuffy duvet fumes and walking beneath the light of a billion stars.
Halfway home, Nathan spoke again. ‘You know that if you want to talk about it, I won’t tell anyone.’
