Page 69 of You Were Always the One

‘Well, at least that’s something,’ my mother says, before asking the question I know is coming. ‘And what about Holly?’

‘I haven’t seen her.’ There isn’t really anything else to say.

‘But she does know, doesn’t she? That you’re actually going away?’

‘I’ve told her.’ Not that it changes anything. ‘In fact, it was Holly who told me to go.’

My mother looks sad. ‘I always liked Holly. Such a shame that you two didn’t work it out, back in the day.’

‘That really doesn’t help, Mum,’ I warn her. ‘Maybe we weren’t meant to – and despite everyone’s well-meaning opinions about us, maybe we never will.’

‘There’s no need to be tetchy,’ she says huffily. ‘Now. Do you have time for lunch?’

Nevertheless, she has a point. After a quick lunch, I drive home. As I empty the house of everything that made it mine and Emma’s, I think about what my mother said. Yes, Holly and I were good together. That isn’t in question. But… the fact is that was then. Years have passed. We are not the same people. Our lives diverged for all kinds of reasons – I know that’s what Holly thinks.

I need to get away. Who are you fooling, Riggs? I ask myself as, picking up my phone, I message her. Then wait. And wait. And wait.

The day before I’m due to leave for France, she still hasn’t replied. I send a final message.

Hope you’re OK Holls. I listened to what you said, and I leave tomorrow. I just wanted to say goodbye. X

Getting out the hoover, I frenetically clean the carpets, the noise blanking out everything else. It’s only when I stop, I see several missed calls on the screen of my phone, all from Holly.

Sitting on the floor, I call her back. ‘Hey. It’s me.’

‘I didn’t know you were going so soon.’ She sounds flustered.

‘It’s only for a couple of months,’ I say.

‘You don’t know that. It might not be,’ she says.

Which is pretty much what my mother said. And thanks to my father’s Irish heritage, I am not constrained by the restrictions that Brexit has bequeathed on most Brits. In other words, I have freedom. ‘I’m not planning to be away longer,’ I say.

She’s silent. Then she says, ‘Can we meet?’

Of course, it’s what I was hoping she’d say. In fact, I would have been devastated not to have seen her before I leave. We arrange to meet at a car park in the lee of the South Downs, and on this occasion we arrive at the same time for once.

I watch her get out of her car, her long hair glinting in the sunlight, her eyes obscured by oversized sunglasses, and I have a flashback to happier days, when the two of us were twenty-something, on a beach somewhere hot, Holly’s skin tanned, her eyes luminous. Our hands interlocked; we were never far from each other. In those days.

Today, as she comes towards me, her face is pale, her smile a faint imitation of her usual radiant Holly version.

‘I know what I said, but I still can’t believe you’re going,’ she says.

‘I would have had to move in any case,’ I remind her as we start walking. I glance at Holly. ‘Tell me how you are.’

It’s a lovely autumn day, the sky hazy, the landscape painted with shades of russet and gold. It’s a peaceful scene, a reminder of the changing seasons and that winter isn’t far away. But as Holly takes off her sunglasses, there are dark circles under her eyes.

‘Everything’s shit, to be honest.’ Everything about her is tight. ‘Miles’s cancer is stage four. He’s starting radiotherapy and chemo, but it’s about slowing its growth.’ She pauses. ‘They can’t cure it.’

I try to take it in. ‘I’m honestly so sorry.’ It’s like the breath has been knocked out of me as I imagine what this means for them. ‘What about your kids? How are they taking it?’

‘On the face of it, they’re OK. But underneath… Max reads a lot on the internet. Probably too much. But he knows the prognosis isn’t good. Grace is upset – she wears her heart on her sleeve, which is easier to deal with.’

It feels so horribly unfair that she is going through this. ‘And you?’ I ask gently.

‘I’m doing what I can.’ Her voice wobbles. ‘I’m trying to be there for Miles. Believe it or not, things are better between us. We’ve agreed to call a truce – it was the only way we could go on living together. And I’m glad, especially now. But my head’s all over the place.’ She takes a deep breath, then sighs heavily. ‘It’s good to get out for a while.’ She pauses. ‘Remember I told you about my patient, Dora? She died recently. It was sad, but she was old. She’d had a lovely life.’ She pauses. ‘It was so different to what’s going on with Miles.’

That she’s comparing Miles to Dora shows me how she sees this – that potentially, Miles doesn’t have long. ‘Is there any chance that Miles is going to get over this?’