‘It’s £100,000, Jenny!’ Jacob spluttered, about as unconvinced by my lie as I was.
‘Yes, thank you, Jacob!’ I yelled, a little louder than intended. ‘Thank you for reminding me just how much Joe’s life is apparently worth, because that’s all I think about when I look at that damn cheque.’
I shovelled a giant spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, hoping the brain freeze would distract from the crushing weight in my chest, then threw myself down on the sofa, burying my face in a cushion. I felt the sofa dip to my left as Alice sat next to me, and then substantially more on my right when Jacob joined her.
‘Jenny, don’t you think that the visions and the not cashing the cheque are just ways for you to avoid acknowledging thatJoe’s gone?’
My fingers tightened their grip on the cushion. Alice was annoyingly right as per usual, saying the very thing I refused to admit to myself.
‘That money doesn’t represent what Joe’s life was worth, Jenny, it doesn’t even come close,’ Jacob sniffed, his voice shaky with emotion. ‘But it does represent Joe’s desire for you to live your life. You know that’s what he’d want, right? What we all want.’
My insides felt gooey, like the room-temperature tub of ice cream perspiring on the coffee table.
‘I’m scared,’ I mumbled incoherently into the cushion.
‘Scared of what?’ Alice pressed gently. I knew what she was doing. She was prising open the lid that I’d duct-taped closed, encouraging me to confront everything I was feeling head on for once – and now that lid was ajar, there was no stopping the words as they tumbled out.
‘Everything!I’m scared to move on. But I’m also scared of being left behind. Of talking about Joe. Of not talking about Joe. Of forgetting things. Of waking up and Joe not being the very first thing I think about in the morning. Of what my life will be like without him in it. I’m afraid of never feeling happy again. And I’m scared that, if by some miracle I do, if that makes me a terrible person.’
‘You’re right, it will be scary,’ Alice said matter-of-factly. ‘And hard. And painful as hell. And there’ll be so many days when you’ll want to give up.’
‘Is this supposed to be a pep talk, because it’s really shit,’ I sniffed.
‘So shit,’ Jacob agreed, shaking his head in disbelief at his sister. Alice ignored him.
‘But we’re going to be here with you every step of the way until eventually there’ll come a day when you wake up and feelslightly better than the day before. And I promise you that day will come. And that you’ll have another. And another. But you’re never going to be able to move forward, Jenny, if you’re still living in the past.’
A tear slid down my face. I couldn’t speak. Instead, I leaned my head against Alice’s shoulder, squeezing Jacob’s hand so hard I saw him wince.
How, though?
How do you let go of the love of your life?
8
‘Do you think Beryl’s salad will go with Rahul’s chicken noodle thing?’
I was crouched by the communal work fridge, performing the delicate task of skimming off my unsuspecting colleagues’ Tupperware just enough so I didn’t starve but not so much that it would arouse suspicion. It was a fine art that I had sadly perfected in the days leading up to payday these past few months.
‘Do you know how many meal deals you could buy with £100k?’ Jacob retorted smartly, looking horrified as I gingerly prised the lid off one of Beryl’s neatly stacked bento boxes and sniffed. I recoiled, retching violently when the intense smell of egg that had clearly been added to said container whilst still warm knocked me backwards. Literally. Arse well and truly on the floor. ‘I would offer to buy you one, but seeing as you’re a bajillionaire who’s freely choosing to eat Beryl’s quite frankly lethal egg salad rather than buy her own lunch, I have no sympathy.’ He bit into a piece of seaweed-wrapped Tesco sushi with a smug smile. I grabbed a second roll from the tiny black plastic tray and shoved it, as pointedly as I could, in my mouth before he could stop me, almost choking in the process. It was tuna. I didn’t even like tuna.
‘That’s called karma, my friend,’ Jacob told me, looking pleased and not at all concerned by my aggressive coughingfit. ‘Some would argue what you’re doing is the definition of insanity. Maybe Alice is right, maybe you are crazy.’ He nudged me jovially with his elbow just to make sure I knew he was joking. I rolled my eyes.
‘She’s already texted me seven times today – three to confirm the appointment I told her I’m not going to, and the other four with suggestions on how to stop hallucinations.’ My phone lit up with an incoming WhatsApp as I nibbled a piece of cold, congealed chicken. ‘Make that eight,’ I corrected, pushing my phone across the table so that Jacob could read the latest message.
‘No alcohol,’ he read, before snorting with laughter. ‘As if! Now she’s the crazy one.’ We both ate in silence for a while, Jacob’s eyes roaming randomly about the break room as though searching for something. I gave a small smile.
‘He’s not here, Jacob.’
‘I know,’ he said quickly, although he sounded a little disappointed. ‘I just – does he ever ask about me?’ His voice caught a little and it made me look up. He was staring at me across the table, eyes big and wide and full of hope. My heart ached and I was reminded that I wasn’t the only one who lost someone that day. That I wasn’t the only one missing Joe.
‘All the time,’ I lied.
His face lit up. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah, it’s kind of annoying, actually.’
‘Well, I always was his favourite,’ he teased, mock-tossing his imaginary waist-length hair over one shoulder.
