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Before You Go Page 24
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But I was hardly listening, because Ed’s words were echoing around my head. That’s that for another year.
Even now I can’t stop thinking about those words, and my heart aches for him, for me, for the future that we might not have. For the fact that, if nothing changes, this will be the last Christmas he ever has.
The room spins and I hold my head in my hands and groan.
‘What’s the matter?’ Ed’s stirred and is looking at me, a frown on his face, and I realize I have tears in my eyes. I wipe them away with the back of my hand and shake my head.
‘Nothing, nothing. Sorry. Just the stress of the last few weeks. I’m just so glad you’re here and . . .’ My voice catches in my throat and I stop. ‘I just love you, that’s all.’
‘Hey, I know you do, sweetheart. But it’s all right, we’re all right, aren’t we? For today, anyway?’
‘Yes. Yes, we are. At least we have today.’
Ed frowns and I look away, unable to explain what I mean and hoping he doesn’t ask. And then he drifts off and I watch as sleep takes him away from me again. And as I let my eyes close, as I finally give in to the darkness, I pray that I get to see him again, just one last time.
19
19 June 2013
It’s the day.
The second I wake up this morning and see where I am, I just know. Today is the day Ed is going to die. It’s also the day I might lose him for a second time if I don’t try and do something about it.
My heart seems to stop at the thought of the massive responsibility ahead of me, and I think I’m going to throw up. I’ve been lucky, I know, seeing Ed again, having the chance to see him, hold him, be with him, talk to him. But the thought of him dying has been hanging over me the whole time, like a huge black rain cloud. What if I haven’t done enough to save him? What if I can’t do it today?
What if I’ve failed him?
I lie still and try to steady my breathing, but it keeps coming in short, ragged bursts. Beside me Ed continues to sleep peacefully and I prop myself up on my elbow to look at him properly. He’s lying facing me; his long lashes are stretched across his cheeks, his skin is deeply tanned, his chin sprinkled with stubble. His mouth is slightly open and he whistles lightly on each out-breath. It’s hard to believe he has no idea what today is going to bring; and yet how could he?
Ed stirs and I gently press my mouth to his. His breath smells stale but I don’t care. I need to touch him, to be close to him. He opens one eye and looks at me blearily.
‘Huh? What time is it?’ His voice is still thick with sleep.
I glance at the clock. ‘6.30.’
‘Hnggg. Why am I being woken up?’ He rolls onto his back and closes his eyes again, his arm slung above his head.
I shuffle my body closer to him and snuggle into the crook of his arm, leaning my head on his chest. I stretch my other arm across his belly. His skin feels warm and the familiar scent is a mixture of shower gel, washing powder and sleep. A sudden memory flashes into my mind, piercing it like a lightning bolt of pain: me, lying on this bed after Ed had died. Instead of Ed wrapped in my arms I held the pillow he has his head on right now. I’d lain there for hours, still, numb; in too much pain even for any tears to come, and pressed my face further into the pillow, trying to breathe in this very smell, the faint, lingering smell of Ed on the pillowcase.
I push my face further into his chest.
‘Ow, Zoe, get off, you’re hurting me.’ He pulls away and rubs his chest.
‘Sorry. I just wanted a cuddle.’
‘You can have a cuddle when I’m awake. Let me sleep, I’m knackered.’
Reluctantly I pull away, and slip out from under the covers. I don’t want to cause a fight today. Forget what’s come before, I want today to be perfect. I want Ed to know how much I love him, whatever happens.
I move into the kitchen and pull open the cupboards mindlessly. My heart feels heavy at the thought of the day ahead. I want to enjoy this time with Ed but all I can think about is the moment he left the house last time. That moment, when he strapped on his cycling helmet and pedalled off into the traffic; that’s the thing I need to change today. I need to stop Ed leaving for work on his bike, whatever it takes. And I mustn’t be angry with him.
Decision made, I start pulling together breakfast. Toast and tea in bed is a good start to the day. I scrape butter and jam onto toast, pour tea and milk into mugs and assemble them on a tray from the back of the cupboard. Then I glance out of the window and see Ed’s beloved garden. I open the back door and pad outside in my pyjamas and pick a rose from the pot on the patio; back in the kitchen I stick it in a glass of water and add it to the tray. Better.
I pick up the tray and head back to the bedroom. It’s 7 a.m. now; Ed should be getting up soon anyway. I can’t wait any longer. I place the tray on the duvet and sit next to it, leaning over to kiss Ed’s exposed neck. He jumps and his eyes snap open as he rolls over to look at me.
‘Have I overslept?’ He rubs his eyes and peers at the clock.
‘No, it’s OK. It’s still early. I just brought you this.’
He glances at the tray on the bed and then back at me. ‘What’s this for?’
I shrug. ‘I don’t know. I just thought it would be nice to have breakfast in bed together.’
‘Oh, right. Thanks.’ He looks at me quizzically, and who can blame him? We don’t really like each other right now. ‘I’ll have to be quick, though, I’ve got to get to work.’
‘I know.’ I climb under the duvet and wait while Ed shifts into a sitting position, then place the tray across our knees. It wobbles slightly and the mugs slide towards Ed.
He grabs them. ‘Careful, you’ll spill it.’
I take my tea from him and take a sip. Then I put it down on the side and take a bite of toast. We sit in silence for a few minutes, chewing and drinking. I can see some of the garden from here and a tiny patch of sky above the house behind. It’s bright blue, just a few wispy clouds, hardly enough to bother the already hot sun. The sunflowers Ed planted a few weeks ago are starting to poke their heads above the windowsill, swaying in a very gentle breeze. I sigh.
‘Big sigh. Everything OK?’
If only he knew. ‘Yes, fine. I was just thinking.’
‘Careful.’
‘Ha ha.’ I pause, unsure how to say it. ‘It would be nice if we didn’t have to go to work today.’
‘Yeah, it would. It looks like it’s going to be boiling.’ He squints out of the window.
‘We could always stay here.’
‘What do you mean? We’ve both got work.’
I turn to face him. ‘I know, but – don’t you think it would be nice to have a naughty day off? Call in sick and spend the day here, in bed, in the garden, just – being together. We haven’t done enough of it recently.’
I’m trying not to let the desperation show in my voice but I’m aware of my words speeding up, running away with me, the tone rising gradually. Ed’s noticed it too and gives me a strange look.
‘We can’t just take the day off. I’m in the middle of a huge job and I’ve told you what a total pain the guy’s being about his decking. If we don’t finish it today we’ll be out on our ears. And you – well, Zoe, you just don’t skive. It’s not in your nature. First breakfast in bed and now this. What’s come over you this morning?’
I just need to keep you here, safe, with me, and not let you go anywhere, not until today is over, because then I’ll know you’re alive and you haven’t left me. These are the words I long to say. Instead, I say, ‘I just want to be with you, Ed. That’s all. I’m tired and I need a rest and I want you to stay here with me. Please?’
He looks at me for a minute, and lifts my chin gently with his finger so I have to force my neck into an uncomfortable position.
‘You know we can’t do that, right?’
‘But why not?’ My voice has become whiny and I stop. ‘It’s no big deal. Other people do it all the time.’
> ‘Yes, but not us. At least, not you.’
‘I am today.’
‘No, Zoe. Sorry, but I need to get going. I’m going to be late as it is.’
I watch desperately as he places his mug deliberately on the floor, moves the tray to one side and swings his legs out of the bed. He leans over, gives me a peck on the nose and stands and stalks off to the bathroom. It’s clear the conversation has finished. I wish I was strong enough to grab him, pin him to the bed and hold him captive all morning. But I’ll need to think of something else.
I clear the dirty cups and plates away and walk into the bathroom where Ed’s taking a shower. The shower screen is clouded over and all I can make out is the blurry outline of his naked body. I pop my head round and watch him for a few seconds before he notices me.
‘Oi, get out!’ He sprays me with water and I pull my head away and wipe soapy water from my eyes.
‘Can’t I come in with you?’
The water stops and Ed’s head appears round the screen. ‘I’m done, it’s all yours. Seriously, what is wrong with you today?’ He steps out of the shower shaking his head, and wraps a towel round his waist. My heart races at the sight of his naked body.
‘Thanks.’
As I stand under the cool water I let it pound my face and head, run down my neck and body, cooling me down. Ed seems to be resisting every effort I make to keep him here, and now he thinks I’m being weird. I don’t know what to do.
I step out of the shower and drip water slowly onto the mat, shivering in the cool air of the bathroom. Wrapping a towel round me, I walk back to the bedroom where Ed is already dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. His damp hair is tousled; I step towards him until we’re just an inch apart and run my fingers through it and drop my towel onto the floor, pressing myself against him. I can feel his body stiffen and he takes a quick in-breath of air as I plant my lips full on his. I can feel his resistance; he’s trying to pull away before it’s too late, but I can’t let him leave so I lift my leg and wrap it round him and pull his face to mine to deepen the kiss. He responds and his body relaxes; then his arms are round my waist, his fingertips caressing my back, and I arch in pleasure. I bring my hand round and start unbuckling his belt and then he stops and pulls back.
‘Zoe, stop. I haven’t got time for this.’
I ignore him and kiss him again, but he’s stronger than me and pushes me away, his hands firm on my upper arms.
‘Zoe, stop, please. I have to go. I can’t do this, not now. God, you pick your moments, don’t you?’
‘Oh, come on, Ed, it’s been months. I know you want me; please come to bed with me.’
‘No, Zoe, I can’t. I don’t know what’s happened to you today, but I have to get to work and so do you.’
‘But I love you, Ed.’
He gives me a strange look. ‘I know, but— Look, I’d love to spend the day with you and know that it could change the way things have been between us recently, or make things better. But it won’t and, well, I’ve got work to do, and so have you. We’ll work things out, Zo, we will, just not right now.’
‘We have to.’ The words are out before I can think about them.
He frowns. ‘What?’
‘Well, why not today, why not right now? Why can’t today be the day we change things between us forever? Why can’t you just admit it’s worth a go and trust me that this is the day we need so we can be happy together for the rest of our lives? I . . .’ I pause, aware from the puzzled expression on Ed’s face that he has no idea what I’m talking about and that I’ve already started to say too much. ‘I just don’t see why we can’t do it today, that’s all.’ I shrug and sit down on the bed, deflated. Ed stays standing, watching me.
‘But why does it have to be today, of all days?’ He sits next to me, his body angled slightly towards mine. ‘Zoe, what is going on here? Is there something I should know?’
I long to tell him; I imagine telling him I’ve been living my life again, that I’ve been trying to change things to try and stop him dying; that this is the day he died and that I need to stop him going anywhere, to keep him safe. To save him.
But there’s no way to explain it.
As he waits for me to answer all I can see is Ed’s furious face as he stormed out of the house last time on this day. The last time I’d seen him he was angry with me and we’d almost hated each other. I can’t let that happen again.
‘No, there’s nothing you should know. I just—’ I pause. ‘I just don’t want us to be like this any more. I want us to love each other again, the way we used to.’
He sits and watches me for a minute, then takes my hand. ‘Zoe, I do love you. I always have and always will. But this isn’t the time to try and sort out everything that’s gone wrong between us. I promise I do want to, of course I do, and we can. But right this minute we’re both very busy at work and there’s a weekend coming up and we could spend a day together then when we don’t have anything else on, instead of today, when we both have to get to work.’ He takes a breath and sighs. ‘I just don’t see the urgency, to be honest. Let’s face it, it’s been going on so long now, I don’t see what difference a couple of days is going to make.’
‘But it might. I dunno, I just have a feeling that today needs to be the day.’ I don’t expect him to listen – why would he? I wouldn’t. But it’s worth one last shot.
Ed shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry, Zoe. I’ve got to get to work. But listen, why don’t we both come home early and have a special evening – nice meal, candles, the works? I’ll even cook . . .’
‘OK,’ I say reluctantly.
‘Great.’
He turns his back and my heart sinks to the floor. Nothing seems to be working. As he walks out of the room I wrack my brains trying to think of another way to stop him getting on that bloody bike and leaving me.
And then it hits me.
I listen carefully as Ed clatters round the kitchen making another cup of coffee. I pick up my bag off the floor and rummage around until I find what I’m looking for. Then, quietly, I creep from our bedroom and down the hallway to the front door. I open it, hoping it doesn’t squeak. It doesn’t, and I let out a rush of breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. I turn to the left and there’s Ed’s bike, chained up to the fence between us and next door. The street is unusually quiet and I work quickly before anyone comes: I crouch down, lift my arm up high, then plunge it down quickly until the sharp nail file pierces the rubber of the tyre and I can hear the gentle hiss of air. I do the same to the other one, my heart hammering, sure I’m about to get caught. I make sure enough air has left them so he sees they’re flat, then stand and creep back into the house, closing the door silently behind me.
He won’t listen to me. But that will stop him.
Ed’s head pokes round the bathroom door. ‘Zoe? Was that someone at the door?’
Heat flushes my face but I shake my head. ‘No, I didn’t hear anything.’
He shrugs. ‘OK.’
He walks towards me. He’s cleaning his teeth now; there’s toothpaste dripping from his mouth and I watch as it slowly falls from his chin onto the wooden floor.
We both stare at the patch of white paste by his feet. I can’t help remembering how angry this made me last time and now I have no idea why: I don’t even feel like the same person any more.
‘Whoops.’ Ed grins as more toothpaste sprays from his lips into the air. A few spots hit my face and I wipe them away.
‘You’re gross.’
‘Sorry.’ He walks into the kitchen, grabs a handful of kitchen towel and mops the toothpaste from the floor. As he does, a drop of white paste falls from his mouth onto his shorts.
‘Go and spit your toothpaste out before you drop it anywhere else, you messy bugger,’ I say, pushing him towards the bathroom, laughing.
Ed trots off looking sheepish.
I put on a show of packing my bag, of brushing my hair, applying some make-up. But I’m waiting for Ed, to make
sure he doesn’t leave. At least, not on his bike.
‘Right, I’m off.’ He gives me a peck on the cheek. He smells of mint, and there’s still a tiny smudge in the corner of his lip. I wipe it gently with my thumb.
‘OK, love, see you later.’
He straps on his helmet, shrugs his rucksack onto his back and steps out of the front door, shutting it loudly behind him. I stand, holding my breath, waiting. I don’t have to wait long. A few seconds later I hear his key scrape in the lock and Ed walks back in, muttering to himself.
‘Some little bastard has let the air out of my tyres.’
‘Oh no, that’s terrible. What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know. Get the Tube, I guess. But it’s a right ballache, all the way down to South Norwood. Little shits.’
He’s really cross but I don’t care. I had no choice.
‘I could give you a lift if you like?’
‘A lift? Aren’t you meant to be at work?’
‘Yeah, but – well, it would make it easier, wouldn’t it?’
‘Not for you.’
‘No. But. Go on, let me take you. I fancy a drive; I haven’t driven for ages.’
Ed looks at me for a minute, unsure. Then he nods. ‘OK, if you really want to. That would be great, thanks.’
‘I’ll just get my keys.’
My heart’s hammering as we climb into my battered old Beetle, the car I bought months ago but rarely got the chance to drive. I’ve done it, I’ve stopped him getting on his bike! I can hardly believe it worked.
I wind down the windows and get the fans blowing but it’s pretty ineffectual against the already intense heat of the day. We drive in silence for a while. I feel so elated that he’s no longer on the journey that took him away from me that I don’t know what I could possibly say anyway.
We crawl through the north London traffic, the heat in the car building at each set of traffic lights, each set of roadworks. But I don’t care. I’m here, with Ed, and he’s alive. I feel as though I’m floating.