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But it is.
‘The hardest part,’ Milly continues, ‘is knowing what to tell Alice. How do you tell a five-year-old that she is going to deteriorate and die? I mean, how?’ Her voice rises and a few people turn to look at us. ‘I’ve bought some books, and I did an internet search on “how to tell your child she’s dying”. Can you even imagine the search results for that?’ She shakes her head, annoyed now, angry tears sparkling in her eyes. ‘But all the advice is so unbelievably lame. Do you know how many times I’ve read “this is a difficult topic to discuss”? Oh, really? You think?’ More people are looking, but I don’t care, and neither does Milly. She is still looking at the ceiling to stop herself from crying, even though tears are trickling down her cheeks.
‘And, of course,’ she continues, ‘I don’t even know how much Alice understands about death. She’s five. Even the doctors don’t know. So, at the moment we’re just taking it day by day, giving her information on a need-to-know basis. At this point we just want to give her as much normality as possible, but that already feels impossible.’ She lets out a shuddering breath. ‘Sorry. That was a lot of information.’
‘You don’t ever need to be sorry, Milly.’
‘That’s what I keep telling Alice.’ She gives me a twisted smile, her face crumpling a bit. ‘She keeps apologising for being clumsy and things. It breaks my heart.’ She thumps her breastbone. ‘I feel it, right here, every time, breaking.’
‘I can’t help but feel this is my fault,’ I blurt. I have to say it, even though I don’t want to make this about me. It has been weighing on me ever since my mother told me about my brother. ‘If I hadn’t offered…’
‘Oh, no, no, no.’ Milly shakes her head firmly. ‘I can’t go down that route, Anna. I can’t let myself think that way. Because if you hadn’t offered, and I hadn’t accepted, then I wouldn’t have had Alice. And even now, especially now, that’s unimaginable.’
‘Do you really feel that way?’ I ask quietly. I want her to. So much, I want her to.
‘I have to.’ Milly gazes at me brokenly. ‘What’s the alternative? To wish she’d never been born at all?’ She leans forward, suddenly urgent. ‘Do you wish that?’
‘What…?’
‘I’ve thought about that day a thousand times, Anna. A million. How it all unravelled so fast, before any of us could do anything… it felt as if I was watching a train crash in slow motion and I couldn’t do anything to stop it, but at the same time I was the one driving the train.’
‘Yes.’ It’s hard to get any other words out. I never thought I’d be sitting here with Milly, talking about that day. ‘I never should have…’ I begin, then stop, trying to frame my words in a way that is truthful to what happened as well as to my own feelings.
‘No, I shouldn’t have,’ Milly says. ‘I know we put you in an impossible situation, Anna. We asked too much of you. We didn’t give you any leeway, any permission to feel something, or be something, other than our oh-so-helpful friend.’
‘And I took advantage,’ I admit painfully. ‘I was so besotted with Alice. I didn’t expect it… the strength of how I felt. I really didn’t.’
‘And I didn’t expect not to feel that.’ Milly looks down at her drink.
‘I wouldn’t have gone through with it,’ I blurt. ‘I’ve thought and thought about it, and I really don’t think I would have.’
Milly nods slowly, and I can’t tell whether she believes me or not. ‘I don’t suppose it matters anymore.’
‘Still…’ I feel I have to say something, I want to, although I’m not sure what. ‘I’m sorry, Milly,’ I finally whisper. ‘For all of it.’
‘So am I. For so many things.’ She shakes her head and lets out a long, low breath. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about, you know, your termination? Was that why you bombed your exams? It must have been…’
‘It was two weeks before.’
‘I can’t believe I didn’t know.’ She grimaces. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t ask.’
‘I didn’t want you to know. I was ashamed.’ I look down, at my untouched drink.
‘Who was it, Anna? The father? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone. I feel as if I’ve had to recalibrate our whole friendship, based on all the stuff I didn’t know—’
‘I wasn’t seeing anyone.’
Milly frowns. ‘Not even… I mean, there was someone. Wasn’t there?’
I shake my head. ‘Not in the way you think. It was…’ I blow out a breath. ‘Mr Rees.’
‘Mr Rees?’ Milly’s shocked and horrified expression is almost comical. ‘Our history teacher?’
‘The very one.’
‘But he was so…’
‘Old? Unattractive? Yes.’ I try to smile, but I can’t quite manage it, so I take a gulp of wine instead. Even twenty years on, with all the therapy and healing, this is still hard.
