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“I just feel I’m losing you.”
“There’s a time and a place.”
“This used to be the time, and it used to be the place.” She breathed between kisses.
“Lu, we’re not on our own anymore.”
No. No. No.
I couldn’t bear it. Turning, I fled up the stairs, back to my bedroom, and stood by my bed, hyperventilating, the white noise thundering like a hurricane through my head.
Luke Fox, the bereavement counselor, was wrong. I was a burden, an obligation, and I was here because of Dylan’s warped sense of duty.
There was no other way.
I had to go.
Where? Where could I go?
Inspiration hit me.
Of course—back to the house in Bekesbourne. It couldn’t be that difficult. I could stay with Pips. Her mother had said I could… after the accident.
Don’t go there, Emily.
Pips would freak out, in a good way, if I texted her that I was running away. Wouldn’t she?
I could find a job. I had good GCSE results. Move back into my parents’ house once I’d found a job. I just needed to get back. I could hitchhike or something.
Several ideas collided in my head, vying with the white noise. All I knew was that I had to leave. Now.
First, I had to locate the keys to my house. Dylan must have put them somewhere, unless he packed them in one of the crates. The crates! I had money, in a jar, in the crates. I dashed to the empty room where they were stacked. Panting and frantic, I started emptying the nearest one.
Not quick enough. Not quick enough.
I tipped it up. It was heavy, full of books, and my sketchpads. But no keys, no jar. I moved to the next crate and upended it with a crash.
“What are you doing?”
I jumped guiltily and whirled round. Dylan filled the doorway.
“Jesus, Emily, what’s happened? You look like you’ve been run over by a train.”
I stared at him, unable to move, unable to speak.
“Have you lost something?” he asked, his voice gentle.
Mutely, I stared back at him. What to say?
I heard you. I understand. I’ll go.
“What is it?” His face was taut with concern. Stressed out, Lulu had said.
He edged into the room without taking his eyes off me. In case I bolted or attacked him, I didn’t know.
Finally, I found my voice. “I have to find the keys to the house and my jar of money,” I whispered. “I have to go.”
He paused as my words sank in. “Go where?”