Page 58 of Winter With You

Wrapped up in her coat and the duvet from her bed, Gabriella sat next to the patio heater on the balcony and drank in the night with a bourbon from the mini bar and a giant bag of roasted peanuts.

She sighed, taking a swig of her drink. ‘I know that, Lulu. But what do I do? Is it better to take the dog away now so she loves it less? Or let her keep him until it’s time to leave?’

It’s too late. Phoebe loves things automatically and unconditionally.

‘I know that. She gets it from you.’

It’s not a bad thing, Ella-Bella. Why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing?

‘I didn’t say it like that.’

Love should be unconditional. If you feel it, or anything close to it, you should let it show.

‘Mother hated that,’ Gabriella said, pulling her blanket closer.

Because Mummy didn’t know how to show it.

‘Because she never felt it.’ Gabriella sighed. Phoebe’s deep feelings were in complete contrast to her grandmother’s complete lack of emotional intelligence.

But don’t you think that’s sad for her? Maybe she did feel it, but she was never allowed to show it and so she didn’t and then that’s all she knew and passed on.

‘People are supposed to learn from mistakes, not repeat the cycle.’

Sometimes it’s harder than anyone knows. You say that in Zero Fucks Given. Don’t you mean it?

Gabriella took a swig of the drink. She had meant it. She still meant it. It was one of the things she had written from the absolute heart. But the rest of it… She swallowed, her mind revolving. It should say more. It shouldn’t just talk about making changes. It should talk about trying to support what’s already there. Who is already there.

And what do you feel, Ella-Bella? About the man styling you in outfits you think you’re not good enough for?

She shook her head. ‘We are not talking about that.’

Why not? He’s very beautiful, Ella-Bella. He could be a painting. But one you’re allowed to touch.

Again, Gabriella shook her head. ‘No one is touching anyone.’

That wasn’t what it looked like on Manhattan Bridge.

‘You didn’t see that,’ Gabriella stated.

She could hear Lulu’s laugh like it was out here, spiralling up into the night and dancing amid the bright stars.

You like him, Ella-Bella. You like him!

Lulu’s voice had never sounded more singsong and childlike, exactly how it had been when they were young, teasing each other over the latest school crush one of them had. Usually Lulu… the worst of them, Phoebe’s useless father.

‘I don’t,’ Gabriella breathed as she cupped the bourbon glass in her hands. Except her words sounded hollow even to herself. She did like him. He was warm and genuine and she didn’t feel as if she had to mask who she was. But that felt as refreshing as it felt dangerous. She didn’t do that. It came with too many complications.

Don’t lie, Ella-Bella. Not to me. You never lied to me, did you?

She swallowed. She had told Lulu so many lies over the years. White ones. Small ones. To make her feel better.

Did you?

To give her hope. There had never been enough of it in the Felix house. For any of them.

It’s OK. I know you lied to me. But I forgive you. Because you lied for the right reasons. But I don’t think you ever pretended and that’s more important.

She took a breath and looked at the night sky, the antenna of a high rise flashing red like a flare. Or, perhaps a warning.