Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, and sorry I took so long to update! I think that's all I have to say! hehe! Hope you enjoy the new chapter. Just one more to go after this. Jo xx
Sunday
Sunday all the lights of London
Shining, sky is fading red to blue.
I'm kicking through the autumn leaves
And wondering where it is you might be going to.
Turning back for home
You know I'm feeling so alone.
I can't believe
Climbing on the stair
I turn around to see you smiling there
In front of me.
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I pull into the driveway of the mansion at around midday, and sigh sadly as I begin the long drive up to the house. When I reach it I sit in the jeep and stare at it. This is it: everything that I have. The house, the money. I guess that's what my life is now. This is what I always didn't want. But now there's some sort of comfort in knowing that at least it's not all gone. I still have the memory of Gamma, of Bobby, of all the fun I had here.
As I get out of the car I realise what a mistake I made in wanting to sell the house. It holds too many memories, both good and bad. I wonder if it's too late to withdraw my offer of giving it away. Probably. I sigh sadly, knowing I am a complete fool, who obviously wasn't thinking a few months ago.
I turn the key in the lock, and push the heavy door open, stepping into an empty hallway. There's no life in the house, everything feels so dreary and empty. When I allow the door to fall shut the hallway becomes dark, and even more lifeless. I throw open the shutters at the windows, and light floods the room. Smiling, I push my way into the kitchen to find something to eat: I don't think I had any food since this time yesterday, apart from some nibbles at the pub. Finding the fridge completely empty, I pick up the phone and order a pizza. The guy on the other end of the phone seems quite surprised when I tell him the address: what, does he think I'm too upper class to like pizza or something?
While I wait for the pizza I make my way up to my bedroom, to see if I still have enough clothes and toiletries here to stay. If I don't, I think I'll be making a trip to the mall after lunch, because I really can't see how I could go back to the house and demand my stuff from Kem. Not after everything that happened between us. Thankfully I find an almost full drawer of clothes and underwear, and a spare toothbrush on the side in the bathroom. At least that's one less thing to worry about.
As I come out of the en-suite bathroom I hear the doorbell ring. The pizza got here quickly! When I get downstairs there is a key lying on the doormat, with a bit of paper attached to it. I pick it up, and open the door to see a taxi halfway down the drive. As I close the door I glance down at the piece of paper, and realise what it is: to key to the house. 'Here's your key. Plane to Africa in 3 hours. Kem xx' That's really it then. I knew already that it was over, but now there's a real finality about it. And I don't know what to feel. I'm not distraught that she left me. Or did I leave her? I don't even remember the details of it. I'm not happy that I'm alone, but I'm glad I'm not fooling myself anymore. I don't think I'm fooling myself, anyway. In a way I feel guilty that I couldn't be the person she needed me to be, to help her get through losing our son. And I feel guilty that I don't miss her terribly.
It strikes me that the situation is surprisingly similar to that of Abby and I last year. A death, not being there, running, hiding...Africa. Except somehow I think Kem won't be coming back with a pregnant girlfriend! I wonder what Abby's up to right now. Working? Studying? No, not studying, she graduated I remind myself. I'm so proud of her, that she sorted her life out like this. Makes me annoyed with myself though: it took me screwing up for her to do it, and I managed to make a mess of my life from it.
I barely talked to Abby since he died. Barely talked to anyone. I can't quite face them, and their sympathetic smiles. She wouldn't be like that, I guess. But I'm worried about what she'll say. And I'm worried about what she'll say about me and Kem, now that it's over. I'm sure she must have never liked Kem, and yet she was always nice about her, asking me how she was doing, smiling and being friendly. I don't know if I would have been able to do that, were the roles reversed.
The doorbell rings once again, and I receive and pay for my pizza, before moving into the kitchen ready to consume it. The smell of pepperoni and cheese begins to fill the room, and I lick my lips in anticipation. This looks good. I lift a slice out of the box, and stare at it greedily for a moment, before realising that won't satisfy my hunger, and raise it to my mouth...
And the doorbell rings. What's up with that door today? I just came back here less than an hour ago, and this is the third time someone came here. Maybe I paid the wrong amount to the pizza boy. Reluctantly I put the pizza back in the box, and make my way to the front door.
When I open it I'm so stunned I honestly don't have a word to say.
"Hey," she says, smiling at me. I just stare back, blinking. What's she doing here?
"Abby...?"
"Yeah, that's me." She laughs awkwardly. "Could I come in?"
"Sure, sure." I step aside and let her through the door, closing it behind her. "Do you want to come through to the kitchen? I just got a pizza." She follows me through and sits down at the table. "Help yourself," I say, in an attempt to be hospitable.
"Thanks." She grabs a slice, as do I, and I finally get my food.
"How did you know I was here?" I ask between mouthfuls.
"Lucky guess." She smiles. "Or I know you too well. Or maybe both. I called your house, to see if you wanted to get a coffee today, talk about stuff. I thought you might need a friend."
"Thank you."
"Anyway, Kem told me what happened. So I guessed you were either working harder than you ought to, just to forget everything, or sitting here all alone."
"You talked to Kem?" I ask, shocked. Abby was always civil to Kem, but I can't imagine why she would want to have a conversation with her.
"Yeah. She sounded pretty upset. We talked about the baby, about you leaving. She says it's for the best, but...I told her she ought to try and work things out with you. I said she should come up here and see you."
"It won't work out Abby, but thanks for trying." I'm truly touched. My ex-girlfriend is trying to fix my relationship problems. I knew she was an amazing person, but I didn't realise just how amazing. This is what a true friend is.
"All I want is for you to be happy."
"Well, it seems that that's not with Kem." I smile at her, before taking another piece of pizza. "Can we not talk about her anymore? I've been a complete idiot, I'd rather just forget about it."
"Okay. Do you want to talk about the baby?" I stiffen. Yes, I want to talk about him so much. But it's too painful. I think about him every second, and that's painful enough already. To vocalise those thoughts would make it so much harder. "You know, however hard you think it will be to talk, it will probably make things a little easier if you share how you're feeling with someone." It's like she can read my thoughts. And I suddenly realise that means a lot to me. "If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine. Just talk to someone else."
"No!" I say, a little too forcefully, and she looks slightly confused. "I mean...I don't want to talk to someone else. I'll talk to you." What am I doing? I have no idea, but it feels right.
"Are you sure you're okay to talk?" She looks at me with compassion in her eyes. Not that pitying look that I dreaded from everyone, but a look which says 'I understand, I'm here'. And I really feel like I can open up to her about everything.
"Yes. I...I really need a friend."
"You've got one right here." She smiles at me once again, and I'm blown over by her generosity, and friendliness. If I didn't know before, or maybe didn't realise, I know now that I lost someone very special. And yet now she's willing to be my friend.
"Thank you." I wait for her to ask me something, but she just sits and watches me. Waits for me to talk about it in my own time. "I...I don't know what to say," I begin, not knowing if there is any way to articulate how I'm feeling. The complete feeling of emptiness, the way my whole body aches from being so empty, the way my heart and mind are numb.
"It's okay. Take your own time." I know right now that I have to tell her everything, every little detail of how I am feeling inside. Because she will understand, and I don't know how but in some way she will make it better. However hard it is to say, I need to explain.
"Everything feels so empty. Like there's nothing there," I start, and look to her for reassurance that she's listening, knowing what I mean. She nods, willing me to go on. "I lost everything, and now I don't know how I can ever feel like I even have a part of that. There's no word to describe the emotion I'm feeling. Grieving doesn't cover it. Distraught sounds so dramatic. It's not dramatic, it's horrific. But horrific's not the right word. What I saw in Africa was horrific, this is..." I trail off, tears pricking in my eyes.
"Heart breaking?" she tries, and I nod as the tears begin to fall.
"Yeah, kind of. But it's not broken, it's more empty. Everything around me feels so empty. This stupid house is empty, my life is empty. I have nothing."
"You've got friends." I smile at her, a genuine smile through my tears. A silent thank you to her. It all means so much.
"He was so beautiful. He would have been breaking hearts all over town as a teenager." The statement chokes me: this was the first realisation I had that not only was my son dead, he would never grow up. Somehow it feels like two completely different things to me. And my heart has been ripped apart once again. "But he won't be a teenager. He'll never have a first girlfriend, never drive his first car. I'll never hear him say his first words, or take his first steps. I wanted so much to be a good father. And now I'll never be able to."
"You will. One day." She places a hand over mine, and squeezes it gently. "You'll get through this. You'll find someone else, and you'll have another chance at a family. She's out there somewhere."
"Yeah." I wipe away some tears with my free hand. "But I feel like if I get through this, it will mean I've forgotten him. And then I'll be betraying him."
"That's not forgetting him. Everyone knows you'll love him forever, nothing will ever change that. You won't be betraying him by learning to deal with your grief. You really think your son would want to have a Dad who spends half his time crying, anyway?" she asks, and I grin at her half-hearted joke. "Not very macho, is it?"
"Nope." I laugh slightly. "Whenever I close my eyes, I see him. Running around, smiling, laughing. We're never doing the same thing, but it's always me and him having fun. He'll fall over and get mud all over his dungarees, and come running towards me, arms wide open for a hug, just so he can get me dirty." I find myself smiling as I tell the story, as if I'm relaying an actual trip to the park with my son or something. "For a moment I feel so happy and so fulfilled. And then I open my eyes, and I realise I'll never play with him, and that will never happen. And it breaks my heart all over again, and I feel so empty."
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