Me Before You (39 page)

I would show him the hotel brochure, but I wasn’t going to tell him about this. I was just going to turn up there with him and then watch him do it. For those few, precious minutes Will would be weightless, and free. He would escape the dreaded chair. He would escape gravity.

I printed out all the information and kept that one sheet at the top. Whenever I looked at it I felt a germ of excitement building – both at the thought of my first ever long-haul trip, but also at the thought that this might just be it.

This might be the thing that would change Will’s mind.

I showed Nathan the next morning, the two of us stooping furtively over our coffees in the kitchen as if we were doing something properly clandestine. He flicked through the papers that I had printed off.

‘I have spoken to other quads about the skydiving thing. There’s no medical reason he can’t do it. And the bungee jumping. They have special harnesses to relieve any potential pressure points on his spine.’

I studied his face anxiously. I knew Nathan didn’t rate my capabilities when it came to Will’s medical well-being. It was important to me that he was happy with what I’d planned.

‘The place here has everything we might need. They say if we call ahead and bring a doctor’s prescription, they can even get any generic drugs that we might need, so that there is no chance of us running out.’

He frowned. ‘Looks good,’ he said, finally. ‘You did a great job.’

‘You think he’ll like it?’

He shrugged. ‘I haven’t got a clue. But –’ he handed me the papers ‘– you’ve surprised us so far, Lou.’ His smile was a sly thing, breaking in from the side of his face. ‘No reason you couldn’t do it again.’

I showed Mrs Traynor before I left for the evening.

She had just pulled into the drive in her car and I hesitated, out of sight of Will’s window, before I approached her. ‘I know this is expensive,’ I said. ‘But … I think it looks amazing. I really think Will could have the time of his life. If … if you know what I mean.’

She glanced through it all in silence, and then studied the figures that I had compiled.

‘I’ll pay for myself, if you like. For my board and lodging. I don’t want anyone thinking –’

‘It’s fine,’ she said, cutting me off. ‘Do what you have to do. If you think you can get him to go then just book it.’

I understood what she was saying. There was no time for anything else.

‘Do you think you can persuade him?’ she said.

‘Well … if I … if I make out that it’s … ’ I swallowed, ‘ … partly for my benefit. He thinks I’ve never done enough with my life. He keeps telling me I should travel. That I should … do things.’

She looked at me very carefully. She nodded. ‘Yes. That sounds like Will.’ She handed back the paperwork.

‘I am … ’ I took a breath, and then, to my surprise, I found that I couldn’t speak. I swallowed hard, twice. ‘What you said before. I –’

She didn’t seem to want to wait for me to speak. She ducked her head, her slim fingers reaching for the chain around her neck. ‘Yes. Well, I’d better go in. I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me know what he says.’

I didn’t go back to Patrick’s that evening. I had meant to, but something led me away from the industrial park and, instead, I crossed the road and boarded the bus that led towards home. I walked the 180 steps to our house, and let myself in. It was a warm evening, and all the windows were open in an attempt to catch the breeze. Mum was cooking, singing away in the kitchen. Dad was on the sofa with a mug of tea, Granddad napping in his chair, his head lolling to one side. Thomas was carefully drawing in black felt tip on his shoes. I said hello and walked past them, wondering how it could feel so swiftly as if I didn’t quite belong here any more.

Treena was working in my room. I knocked on the door, and walked in to find her at the desk, hunched over a pile of textbooks, glasses that I didn’t recognize perched on her nose. It was strange to see her surrounded by the things I had chosen for myself, with Thomas’s pictures already obscuring the walls I had painted so carefully, his pen drawing still scrawled over the corner of my blind. I had to gather my thoughts so that I didn’t feel instinctively resentful.

She glanced over her shoulder at me. ‘Does Mum want me?’ she said. She glanced up at the clock. ‘I thought she was going to do Thomas’s tea.’

‘She is. He’s having fish fingers.’

She looked at me, then removed the glasses. ‘You okay? You look like shit.’

‘So do you.’

‘I know. I went on this stupid detox diet. It’s given me hives.’ She reached a hand up to her chin.

‘You don’t need to diet.’

‘Yeah. Well … there’s this bloke I like in Accountancy 2. I thought I might start making the effort. Huge hives all over your face is always a good look, right?’

I sat down on the bed. It was my duvet cover. I had known Patrick would hate it, with its crazy geometric pattern. I was surprised Katrina didn’t.

She closed her book, and leant back in her chair. ‘So what’s going on?’

I bit my lip, until she asked me again.

‘Treen, do you think I could retrain?’

‘Retrain? As what?’

‘I don’t know. Something to do with fashion. Design. Or maybe just tailoring.’

‘Well … there are definitely courses. I’m pretty sure my uni has one. I could look it up, if you want.’

‘But would they take people like me? People who don’t have qualifications?’

She threw her pen up in the air and caught it. ‘Oh, they love mature students. Especially mature students with a proven work ethic. You might have to do a conversion course, but I don’t see why not. Why? What’s going on?’

‘I don’t know. It’s just something Will said a while back. About … about what I should do with my life.’

‘And?’

‘And I keep thinking … maybe it’s time I did what you’re doing. Now that Dad can support himself again, maybe you’re not the only one capable of making something of herself?’

‘You’d have to pay.’

‘I know. I’ve been saving.’

‘I think it’s probably a bit more than you’ve managed to save.’

‘I could apply for a grant. Or maybe a loan. And I’ve got enough to see me through for a bit. I met this MP woman who said she has links to some agency that could help me. She gave me her card.’

‘Hang on,’ Katrina said, swivelling on her chair, ‘I >don’t really get this. I thought you wanted to stay with Will. I thought the whole point of this was that you wanted to keep him alive and keep working with him.’

‘I do, but … ’ I stared up at the ceiling.

‘But what?’

‘It’s complicated.’

‘So’s quantitive easing. But I still get that it means printing money.’

She rose from her chair and walked over to shut the bedroom door. She lowered her voice so that nobody outside could possibly hear.

‘You think you’re going to lose? You think he’s going to … ?’

‘No,’ I said hurriedly. ‘Well, I hope not. I’ve got plans. Big plans. I’ll show you in a bit.’

‘But … ’

I stretched my arms above me, twisting my fingers together. ‘But, I like Will. A lot.’

She studied me. She was wearing her thinking face. There is nothing more terrifying than my sister’s thinking face when it is trained directly on you.

‘Oh, shit.’

‘Don’t … ’

‘So
this
is interesting,’ she said.

‘I know.’ I dropped my arms.

‘You want a job. So that … ’

‘It’s what the other quads tell me. The ones who I talk to on the message boards. You can’t be both. You can’t be carer and … ’ I lifted my hands to cover my face.

I could feel her eyes on me.

‘Does he know?’

‘No. I’m not sure
I
know. I just … ’ I threw myself down on her bed, face first. It smelt of Thomas. Underlaid with a faint hint of Marmite. ‘I don’t know what I think. All I know is that most of the time I would rather be with him than anyone else I know.’

‘Including Patrick.’

And there it was, out there. The truth that I could barely admit to myself.

I felt my cheeks flood with colour. ‘Yes,’ I said into the duvet. ‘Sometimes, yes.’

‘Fuck,’ she said, after a minute. ‘And I thought
I
liked to make my life complicated.’

She lay down beside me on the bed, and we stared up at the ceiling. Downstairs we could hear Granddad whistling tunelessly, accompanied by the whine and clunk of Thomas driving some remote-control vehicle backwards and forwards into a piece of skirting. For some unexplained reason my eyes filled with tears. After a minute, I felt my sister’s arm snake around me.

‘You fucking madwoman,’ she said, and we both began to laugh.

‘Don’t worry,’ I said, wiping at my face. ‘I’m not going to do anything stupid.’

‘Good. Because the more I think about this, the more I think it’s about the intensity of the situation. It’s not real, it’s about the drama.’

‘What?’

‘Well, this is actual life or death, after all, and you’re locked into this man’s life every day, locked into his weird secret. That’s got to create a kind of false intimacy. Either that or you’re getting some weird Florence Nightingale complex.’

‘Believe me, that is definitely not it.’

We lay there, staring at the ceiling.

‘But it is a bit mad, thinking about loving someone who can’t … you know, love you back. Maybe this is just a panic reaction to the fact that you and Patrick have finally moved in together.’

‘I know. You’re right.’

‘And you two have been together a long time. You’re bound to get crushes on other people.’

‘Especially while Patrick is obsessed with being Marathon Man.’

‘And you might go off Will again. I mean, I remember when you thought he was an arse.’

‘I still do sometimes.’

My sister reached for a tissue and dabbed at my eyes. Then she thumbed at something on my cheek.

‘All that said, the college idea is good. Because – let’s be blunt – whether it all goes tits up with Will, or whether it doesn’t, you’re still going to need a proper job. You’re not going to want to be a carer forever.’

‘It’s not going to go “tits up”, as you call it, with Will. He’s … he’s going to be okay.’

‘Sure he is.’

Mum was calling Thomas. We could hear her, singing it beneath us in the kitchen. ‘
Thomas. Tomtomtomtom Thomas
 … ’

Treena sighed and rubbed at her eyes. ‘You going back to Patrick’s tonight?’

‘Yes.’

‘You want to grab a quick drink at the Spotted Dog and show me these plans, then? I’ll see if Mum will put Thomas to bed for me. Come on, you can treat me, seeing as you’re now loaded enough to go to college.’

It was a quarter to ten by the time I got back to Patrick’s.

My holiday plans, astonishingly, had met with Katrina’s complete approval. She hadn’t even done her usual thing of adding, ‘Yes, but it would be even better if you … ’ There had been a point where I wondered if she was doing it just to be nice, because I was obviously going a bit nuts. But she kept saying things like, ‘Wow, I can’t believe you found this! You’ve got to take lots of pictures of him bungee jumping.’ And, ‘Imagine his face when you tell him about the skydiving! It’s going to be brilliant.’

Anyone watching us at the pub might have thought that we were two friends who actually really quite liked each other.

Still mulling this over, I let myself in quietly. The flat was dark from outside and I wondered if Patrick was having an early night as part of his intensive training. I dropped my bag on the floor in the hall and pushed at the living-room door, thinking as I did so that it was nice of him to have left a light on for me.

And then I saw him. He was sitting at a table laid with two places, a candle flickering between them. As I closed the door behind me, he stood up. The candle was burnt halfway down to the base.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

I stared at him.

‘I was an idiot. You’re right. This job of yours is only for six months, and I have been behaving like a child. I should be proud that you’re doing something so worthwhile, and taking it all so seriously. I was just a bit … thrown. So I’m sorry. Really.’

He held out a hand. I took it.

‘It’s good that you’re trying to help him. It’s admirable.’

‘Thank you.’ I squeezed his hand.

When he spoke again, it was after a short breath, as if he had successfully managed some pre-rehearsed speech. ‘I’ve made supper. I’m afraid it’s salad again.’ He reached past me into the fridge, and pulled out two plates. ‘I promise we’ll go somewhere for a blowout meal once the Viking is over. Or maybe once I’m on to carb loading. I just … ’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘I guess I haven’t been able to think about much else lately. I guess that’s been part of the problem. And you’re right. There’s no reason you should follow me about. It’s my thing. You have every right to work instead.’

‘Patrick … ’ I said.

‘I don’t want to argue with you, Lou. Forgive me?’

His eyes were anxious and he smelt of cologne. Those two facts descended upon me slowly like a weight.

‘Sit down, anyway,’ he said. ‘Let’s eat, and then … I don’t know. Enjoy ourselves. Talk about something else. Not running.’ He forced a laugh.

I sat down and looked at the table.

Then I smiled. ‘This is really nice,’ I said.

Patrick really could do 101 things with turkey breast.

We ate the green salad, the pasta salad and seafood salad and an exotic fruit salad that he had prepared for pudding, and I drank wine while he stuck to mineral water. It took us a while, but we did begin to relax. There, in front of me, was a Patrick I hadn’t seen for some time. He was funny, attentive. He policed himself rigidly so that he didn’t say anything about running or marathons, and laughed whenever he caught the conversation veering in that direction. I felt his feet meet mine under the table and our legs entwine, and slowly I felt something that had felt tight and uncomfortable begin to ease in my chest.

My sister was right. My life had become strange and disconnected from everyone I knew – Will’s plight and his secrets had swamped me. I had to make sure that I didn’t lose sight of the rest of me.

I began to feel guilty about the conversation I had had earlier with my sister. Patrick wouldn’t let me get up, not even to help him clear the dishes. At a quarter past eleven he rose and moved the plates and bowls to the kitchenette and began to load the dishwasher. I sat, listening to him as he talked to me through the little doorway. I was rubbing at the point where my neck met my shoulder, trying to release some of the knots that seemed to be firmly embedded there. I closed my eyes, trying to relax into it, so that it was a few minutes before I realized the conversation had stopped.