Page 42 of All Our Missing Pieces

‘How was Emily?’ he asked.

‘Good. We had fun. She’s excited to meet you sometime.’

I didn’t tell him that Emily had said I was welcome to bring him to the barbecue, and I’d found myself saying it was too soon. It wasn’t that I thought Luke wouldn’t like Emily or Emily wouldn’t like him – it was a kind of instinctive need to keep my life at Damask Square separate from my life outside of it, as if I was living in two distinct worlds.

‘I’d like to meet her too,’ Luke said. ‘I’m sure I will soon. And your mate at work, the one with the cocker spaniel puppy…?’

‘Kelly. Is it her you want to meet, really, or the puppy?’

He laughed. ‘You got me. It’s both – and neither, I guess. It’s all the little bits of your life I want to get to know. Like, you hardly ever talk about your parents.’

‘No,’ I said slowly. ‘I don’t.’

‘Do you want to? It’s okay if you don’t,’ he said.

‘It’s nothing.’ I looked down at Luke’s hand, still grubby from working, resting on the leg of his jeans, and took it in mine. ‘Nothing big, not like what happened with your dad. It’s just… not right.’

‘Not right how?’ he asked gently.

‘When I was little,’ I said, ‘I used to get invited round to friends’ houses for playdates and birthday parties and stuff, like you do. I noticed their houses were different from ours but I didn’t think anything of it because – you know – I was a kid and you don’t notice stuff like that and anyway everyone’s house is a bit different from everyone else’s. But when I asked Mum if I could invite friends back to ours, she said no. Just a flat no, like that, every single time.’

‘Blimey. Why not?’

‘It took me a while to realise. By then, the other kids had stopped inviting me and I didn’t have proper friends outside of school. I’d talk to people at lunch and stuff, and I was on the netball team. It’s not like I was some kind of pariah. But after school and at weekends I’d go home and not see anyone except Mum and Dad.’

Luke put the arm that had been along the top of the bench around my shoulders and pulled me closer, a silent urging to continue.

‘I was in the doctor’s waiting room when I realised. I was fourteen and was sat waiting to be seen, reading Eve magazine, and I saw this story.’

‘What was it about?’

I took a breath. I’d never told anyone except Emily this before.

‘It was about hoarders. You know, living rooms so full of stuff you can’t see the TV, the stairs a tripping hazard, the kitchen full of takeaway cartons that have been there for years. That.’

‘I’ve seen stuff about that,’ Luke said. ‘It’s some kind of – like a mental illness, right?’

‘Right. So I read the article and I was like, that’s Mum and Dad. That’s our house. That’s what’s wrong.’

‘How did it feel, when you realised?’

‘Weird. I went from thinking the way we lived was just a bit different from other people to feeling ashamed, because now it had a name. I imagined our house being on TV one day and everyone thinking how disgusting it was.’

‘What did you do?’ he asked, his arm tightening around me.

‘I tried to talk to them. I said, “Look, I know this is a thing now, let me help.” But they didn’t want to change. And besides, it was way more than one teenage girl could sort out, even if I’d worked every day for months and months.’

‘I can imagine that.’

‘So I gave up. I just focused on school and getting the best marks I could until I could leave and go to uni. And then I did.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

His words sent me over the edge. I turned, burying my head in his bare chest, neither of us caring now what he smelled like, and I sobbed.

‘I didn’t go back to stay after that,’ I managed to say. ‘I took everything I cared about back to uni with me and now when I go back – which I don’t often – I stay in a hotel. I hate it there. I hate… I don’t hate them, not really. But I kind of do.’

Luke held me while I cried. After a while, he pulled a bit of blue paper towel from his pocket, checked it wasn’t too dusty and wiped my eyes with it.