‘I went over there the other day, just to see how they were,’ Liz said, in an almost apologetic tone. ‘I took some cake.’
‘Oh yes, the cake,’ said Alice. Liz and Ed got to keep a daughter, but at least Jill’s parents had cake. ‘How were they with you?’
‘Fine. Very sad. I didn’t stay long. Do you mind that I went?’
‘No.’ Alice wanted to know more. ‘Did they say anything about me?’
‘They asked how you were. I told them about your leg, and about how you were staying with us for a while.’
‘Are they angry at me?’
‘For not coming over? No, of course not,’ Liz soothed.
‘No, for . . . ’ Alice’s voice cracked but she didn’t have enough tears left in her at the moment. ‘For being alive.’
Ed thumped a fist on the table, his own eyes prickling with tears, which was something Alice had never seen before. She had a flash thought about how if she had died he would have been doing this a lot.
‘Ed . . . ’ said Liz.
‘Alice, don’t you ever say that or think that ever again,’ he cried. ‘I’m sorry, Liz, but I’m so angry that this stupid, stupid accident has . . . has . . . taken everything from so many people, and even the ones still here like our little Alice are having bad dreams and flashbacks and wondering if people wished they were dead.’
‘Dad, I . . . ’
‘I’m sorry, love, I don’t mean to get all worked up, I know it’s not helping. Just please remember how important you are to all of us. Don’t ever think anyone’s angry.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘Jill’s mum and dad don’t wish anything bad had happened to you – that wouldn’t have saved their little girl.’
‘But I asked her to come to the concert with me. She wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.’
Liz guided Alice to the table and placed a mug of tea in front of her. ‘You just can’t think like that.’
‘But I do.’
‘I know. I hope one day you won’t.’
One day felt like a really long way away.
