I nodded as if that made sense, but inside I was panicking. I wanted to be literally anywhere else, but everyone was looking at me, and I could tell they were expecting an answer, or at least an indication, now.
Amy grabbed my hand under the table, and I took that as a sign of solidarity, so I finally replied.
“That’s so thoughtful,” I said, “and thank you again. But I just don’t think it’s sensible for us, or for Ethel especially.”
“Bollocks,” Ethel said, proving exceedingly unhelpful. “Maybe I haven’t been on a cruise in a while, but it’s the classic old person holiday for a reason, right?”
I shook my head. “Ethel, I don’t think you’re thinking it through.”And this is the most lucid you’ve been in months,I didn’t add. Maybe if she’d been her usual self, it would have been clearer why I was so resistant.
“She’s not wrong,” Amy said, and I spun to look at her, shocked that she wasn’t on my side.
“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely not understanding.
She shrugged. “Well, they are pretty accessible, and even if she did have different needs by then, we could adapt. Maybe stay on the ship instead of going into the ports.”
“I don’t think she’d be up for that,” I said, but Ethel smacked my upper arm hard enough that it stung.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. I may be old, but I’m still a person.”
I turned around to face her. “I know you are. Of course you are. I’m just trying to look out for you. Think about your back. Can you imagine walking on the deck of a moving ship? Much less one that’s crossing the North Sea?”
Ethel frowned, and I could tell that, at least on some level, she understood. But honestly, that wasn’t even the half of it. I could picture her waking up and forgetting where she was, and panicking, and maybe hurting herself. Or getting disoriented walking down a long hallway of identical staterooms. Or having an irritable moment and smacking the arm of someone who wasn’t me and getting in trouble for it. It would be a nightmare, probably for both of us.
“That’s okay, let’s park it,” Amy said, smiling, clearly trying to defuse the tension. “We can talk about it later.”
“We don’t have to talk about it later,” I snapped, and I saw her wilt, but I couldn’t help it. It felt like no one was listening. “Thank you so much for the offer. It means a lot, really. But it’s just not a good idea for us. Sorry.”
Alan and Patricia both nodded, but Amy just looked up at me, a wounded expression on her face. I couldn’t handle it. I was trying to do the right thing for Ethel, which was usually her priority, too. So why was she trying to gang up on me?
I pushed back from the table and excused myself, aware that I was being rude, but I just needed a minute. I found myself upstairs in the hallway, not sure where to go. My first instinct had been to go into Jack’s bedroom– the last time I’d been upstairs in the Evanses’ house I’d been nineteen at most– but it was clear when I opened the door that Patricia had turned it into her office, so I backed out again.
I heard a creak on the stairs and turned to see Amy step into the corridor. And as overwhelmed as I felt, as on edge as I was, seeing her felt like letting a little bit of air out of the situation.
“We can go in here,” she said, nodding me towards her room. It felt weird to follow her in there, but where else was I supposed to go? And I supposed if I couldn’t have a moment alone, at least I could clear the air with her.
Stepping into her room was like stepping back in time. Her walls were the same pink they’d been since she was a kid, there were height markings on the doorframe, and there were glow-in-the-dark stars I knew Jack had helped her put up when they were younger. But other than that, it looked completely unlived in. There were boxes everywhere, and the wardrobe, which was open, was empty except for a dozen or so dresses and jumpsuits on wire hangers. Amy appeared to be living entirely out of the dresser, which was covered in her crystals and incense and card decks.
“Wow,” I said dumbly. “It’s different in here than I would have expected.”
“How so?”
“Well, you haven’t exactly made yourself at home. You’ve been back a year now, haven’t you?”
She sat down on the bed and shrugged, patting beside her. But I didn’t join her.
“Sorry about that downstairs,” I said instead, standing in front of her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“It’s okay,” she said, smiling. “We can go over things together later. I get that it freaked you out, so we’ll do as much research as needed so you feel good about it.”
I frowned. “Amy, I’m not apologising about not wanting to go. I was apologising for how I spoke to you. But I’m not going without Ethel, and Ethel absolutely cannot go.”
Amy held my gaze as she took a deep breath, and I felt my jaw set in anticipation of an argument. Heaven knew I’d had enough of them with her over the years, but not usually about something that actually mattered.
“Why don’t you want to do this?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Why don’t you want to come on holiday with us?”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “You know that’s not what’s happening here. Don’t be like that.”
“You’re right,” she said. “What’s happening here is that you seem to have zero interest in finding a way to make things work. The first suggestion offered didn’t fit your idea of what was achievable, so instead of having a fucking conversation, you just shut it down.”
