A Quiet Kind of Thunder(86)

I eat dinner and go to my bedroom early, tired of the world and everyone in it. I get into bed fully clothed and curl up with my phone, opening my inbox to check my emails so I can do something mind-numbing like delete spam or look at luxury holidays in far-off countries I won’t ever visit.

But what I see is the opposite of mind-numbing. An email from Rhys. He’s never emailed me before. The subject line is ‘You and me’. I hesitate, my finger hovering over it. Do I want to read it? I can guess what it will be. We’re over, aren’t we? He can’t see a future for us. Do I really want to read that before I go to sleep?

No, but I don’t have much of a choice now. If I don’t read it, I’ll never sleep.

From: Rhys

To: Steffi

Subject: You and me

Steffi,

I’m sorry about earlier. That’s not how I wanted it all to go. There’s so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t. It would all come out wrong. And I can’t talk properly right now. But I want to try to explain myself, because this is important, and I need to know you understand.

Stef, I love you. You know I love you. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the perfect weekend away. I’m sorry I ruined it. Everything was going so great, wasn’t it? And then I did the worst thing I could ever do to you.

You did an amazing job taking care of me. Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t say that at the time – it was all just so monumentally crap, and I was so mad at myself, and I couldn’t talk properly anyway. That’s a shitty excuse. I’m sorry about that too.

God, there’s so much I want to say and even now I can’t say it.

Stef, are our parents right? Maybe we really are too different. Do we have a future together? If I can’t even give you a weekend in Scotland, how can I give you all the things I want to?

Be honest with me. I can take it. Tell me if you want better than me. I’ll understand.

Love,

Rhys xxx

I tap out a hundred different replies. I call him an idiot. I tell him I love him. I tell him I don’t give the tiniest of fucks about how well he can or can’t hear or whether he can take care of me. I tell him that’s boy bullshit. I tell him my communication problems are way worse than his anyway, and he’s being a self-involved twat. I remind him that he slipped on a rock – it’s not like he stabbed me in the neck or pushed me off a cliff. I tell him that maybe we’re not right together at all.

And then I delete every attempt and send him one line.

Meet me tomorrow at St Swithun’s Church. 1.30 p.m.

And then I go to sleep.





The next day, the first thing I do is go to see Tem. This time, it’s her that opens the front door, and she’s clearly not expecting to see me.

‘Oh,’ she says.

I know why she’s surprised. I am not the kind of person to actively seek potential conflict. What I’d usually do in this scenario is send multiple apology texts and wait at home until she decides to come and talk to me. But, no, here I am.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. It seems like the sensible thing to open with this time.

Tem blinks at me. She looks torn, as if she might be angry but can’t quite decide if she can be bothered to work up the energy.

‘You lied to me,’ she says eventually. ‘You lied.’

‘So very sorry.’

‘To me!’

I hold out the bouquet of carnations I’ve brought with me. I had planned to get something more impressive, but it turns out flowers are expensive, so I’d just picked the nicest ones I could afford. ‘Extremely and inexpressibly sorry.’

She reaches out and pokes my shoulder. ‘Frogspawn.’

‘Very sorry frogspawn,’ I say. I wave the flowers. ‘Frogspawn with flowers.’

Tem reaches out and takes the flowers in one disagreeable grab. ‘I can’t forgive you until you tell me why you did it,’ she says. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Edinburgh?’

‘Because . . .’ I suddenly can’t think of a single reason why. ‘Because I’m frogspawn.’

A reluctant smile flickers on her face, but she bites it back. ‘OK, you can come in,’ she says, stepping back.

Victory.

We go up to her bedroom, which is looking far tidier than yesterday, and sit on her bed. ‘It was a stupid secret couple thing,’ I say. ‘You know how sometimes you keep things a secret because it’s more exciting?’

‘I didn’t know you did that,’ Tem says. ‘And you’re not meant to keep secrets from the best friend. I’m meant to be like the alibi!’

‘I tell you most things,’ I say. I have no idea why I’m pushing this instead of just apologizing for the omission and promising never to keep her in the dark again. But somehow I find myself talking, spilling thoughts I hadn’t even known I had. ‘But I can keep some things to myself, right? A lot’s changed this year. Sixth form and stuff.’

‘Because of Rhys?’

‘Well, yeah, but not just because of him.’ I take a deep breath, then bite down on my lip. ‘Look, there’s something I haven’t told you, but don’t freak out, OK?’

She looks worried. ‘Oh God, what?’

‘I’ve been taking medication,’ I say in a rush. ‘Since last summer. For my anxiety.’