Obviously he’s not to know that Mum’s just passed, but if he hadn’t been out shagging some other guy then he would have been with me and he would have found out when I did. He could have held me like he did when I had that nightmare, and I would have felt better.
I need someone to blame and Harper’s a pretty big target.
There are probably so many people I should be contacting right now. The qualifiers are less than thirty-six hours away and I’m one hundred per cent not going to be here. Anders needs to call up our back-up driver to take my place – or Elijah, if he’s really ready – and my agent, Will, needs to know I’m about to head back to England. Anna probably needs to know to put out some kind of statement about why I won’t be competing. Except I can only bring myself to focus on getting to the airport. I hope Kelsey will handle everything because I just can’t right now.
I want and need to be on this flight home.
The plane is waiting on the tarmac as promised, and as I soon as I get on they shut the doors and we start taxiing. Once the plane levels out in the sky, I sink my chair into lie-flat mode and pray for sleep so I don’t have to think about how my sister’s coping right now. I hope Mum wasn’t alone, but I also wouldn’t wish it on my twin to have to watch Mum die right before her eyes. I hope Cassie and Jesse are okay – they’ll know something’s wrong and they’re too young to understand. I hope Grant is on a flight home already, too, so Elise has help with the kids. I’ve forgotten where his conference is, but I know he’s not at home right now.
I wasn’t there.
I wasn’t there when it happened.
I shove my earbuds in and put on some calming music. I need to drown out my own thundering thoughts before I’m no use to anyone.
Eventually, the exhaustion of the day hits and I fall asleep.
When I step off the plane and into the waiting car, I reluctantly turn my phone back on. The BBC news blast about Mum’s death drops into my phone right away and the first articles also speculate that I might not race this weekend.
The driver of the car doesn’t say anything, just tips his hat at me out of respect and closes the door behind me. At least he’s judged the tone right and leaves me be on the short drive out into the Norfolk countryside.
My phone buzzes non-stop with texts, voicemails, and notifications. I can’t bear it – any of it – so I switch it off completely.
Elise must hear the car pulling up the driveway, because she’s waiting on the doorstep for me. Her hair’s scraped back into a bun on top of her head and she’s wearing her comfiest pyjamas.
It takes two steadying breaths for me to finally get out of the car, but the second I reach her I’m pulling her into a hug.
‘God, I’m so sorry,’ I whisper into her hair as she tucks herself up under my chin. In this moment I’m glad we’re the kind of twins who are affectionate, who bicker and fight but who will always love and be there for each other. I couldn’t do this without her. I couldn’t have done any of it without her.
Her sacrifice has allowed me to have the professional career of my dreams. She gave up her nursing degree and selflessly took care of everything so I didn’t have to. The least I can do is take care of her now, so for once she can just look after herself.
I start by running her a bath while Grant puts the kids to bed – he wasn’t far away, it turns out, so he beat me here. Then, between us we throw together a somewhat edible dinner and even though we eat in silence at least she’s well fed as we send her up to bed early.
‘How’s she doing?’ I ask Grant.
We’re sitting in the lounge, the TV playing some rubbish in the background that neither of us are watching. We’ve spent hours cleaning the house, running several loads of washing before finally stripping the bedding that Mum passed in. We both allowed silent tears to fall while we did it, but I’m just glad we spared Elise from having to do it. I’m also glad I didn’t have to do it alone.
‘She can’t speak about it yet. She doesn’t want to. I think she was waiting for you to get back. I wish I could bear some of the weight of the loss, but I can’t even begin to understand it, with two very alive parents.’ There’s a level of heartbreak to his voice I’ve never heard before, and I know Elise isn’t the only one affected by caring for Mum.
‘Well, I’m here now. I want to do everything I can. I don’t want her to have to do a thing other than take the time to process what she needs.’
It’s the least I can do after being so absent in the final moments.
Eventually, Grant heads up to bed to be with his wife. I know he will comfort and hold her while she cries. I’m glad.
But it’s yet another reminder, if I needed one, that I will be going to bed alone. I will cry silently to myself. I will reach out and feel the cold side of the bed and know that no one is there for me.
And I wish, Iwish, that wasn’t the case.
ChapterTwenty-Four
Harper
I’ve done a series of stupid things tonight, but drinking’s not one of them. I would never do that the night before getting in a race car, even if it’s just a free practice. Yet, at the same time, I feel drunk. I mean, sober me wouldn’t be grinding up against this random guy whose names I don’t know. Nor would sober Harper be posting a string of pictures and videos of us together all over my Instagram stories. Anyone with half an ounce of sense wouldn’t have come back out here for round two after suffering a panic attack on the floor of the men’s bathroom.
Yet here I am again, a different guy dancing behind me like he’s won big tonight. Not that he’ll be getting anything from me at all.
I’m not even sure what I’m trying to achieve here. To push Kian away? I’m confident I already did that when I freaked out – again – when he asked if we had a future together. He’s a saint if he’d even think about giving me a chance after that. And there’s whatever I’m doing here.
