Words in Deep Blue(55)

‘Henry,’ I say before I hang up. ‘I want a do-over.’

‘A what?’

‘A do-over,’ I say again. ‘On 14 February, this Sunday night, I want another last night of the world. This time I want to spend it with you. I want you to promise me that whatever happens with Amy, you won’t ditch me for her. The end of the world will be at six in the morning on 15 February. Before then I want to hear Lola and Hiroko play their last song. I want to watch the sunrise.’

‘Why?’ he asks, his voice hinting that he knows the reason.

‘Because you owe me an apocalypse.’

‘True,’ he says. ‘And I always pay my debts. Can I ask you for something?’

‘It depends what it is,’ I say, knowing I’ll give him anything.

‘Tomorrow night is the one Friday night we don’t go to dumplings. We host the book club instead. I want you to be there with me. It might be our last one.’

‘Agreed,’ I say, and we hang up. ‘Last’ hangs in the air.





Great Expectations

by Charles Dickens

Letters left between pages 508 and 509

11 February 2016



Michael

I know how upset you are about losing the bookshop. I’m upset too. But ignoring the sale won’t change the situation. As much as we both want the bookshop to do better, it’s not. Can we please talk?

There are developers making very generous offers. (See the paperwork I left on your desk.) We could also go to auction. If you won’t talk, will you give me permission to make all the decisions?

Sophia



Sophia

Frederick and I have been discussing the sale. Would you consider giving us some time to buy you out?

Michael



Dear Michael

I wish I could say yes. I know how happy it would make you. But have you looked into what the building is worth? Where would you get that kind of money? I don’t want to see you in that kind of debt and that debt would affect the kids. This is hurting me, too, but please accept reality for Henry and George’s sakes.

Sophia





Henry




I hold her hand tighter

The book club starts at seven on the second Friday of the month. Dad, Mum, George and I, usually, we’re always here for it. Tonight, though, Dad excuses himself and says we should order in whatever food we want, and pay for it out of petty cash. ‘I’m going out. Your mother’s not coming.’ Before I can say anything about anything to him, say that I’d like him to stay or ask him if everything’s alright, he walks out of the door, gets in the car, and drives away.

The shop feels empty without him, tonight. I feel empty without him. He looks crushed a lot of the time, now. Crushed and lost. I think back to the imaginings that Rachel made me do the other night. Dad will have done his own imaginings, I guess. I try to picture him away from the bookshop but I can’t.

‘Where’s Dad?’ George asks when she comes downstairs.

‘I’m not exactly sure,’ I tell her.

She stands next to me for a while, straightening the wine glasses and the platters, and then eventually she says, ‘I need your advice on something.’

George doesn’t ask my advice on anything, not even English essays. ‘It’s about Martin,’ she says. ‘And about the boy in Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.’

This is an exciting development. George is asking, which clearly means she’s open to the idea that Martin is the one for her, and this guy in the pages of Zombies, is not. Rachel walks back in from driving Martin home. I ask her to take over at the wine and cheese table so I can talk to George. ‘They’re a nice crowd,’ I tell her. ‘When they arrive, give them as much wine as they want, and stand back. George is about to tell me that she’s in love with Martin.’

I follow George into the reading garden. We take a seat and before I start offering advice, she launches straight into the problem. ‘I know you think that I should go out with Martin,’ she says. ‘I know you like him.’

‘He likes you.’

‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ she says. ‘We talk a lot. I went to his house last night and met his mums and his little sister and his dog, Rufus.’

She talks about the stuff that they’ve been doing together, all of which, I didn’t know. They went to see the new Tarantino film. They went to see a re-run of Aliens at the old cinema on Meko Street. They went to Lola’s garage, where Lola played them a song.

‘So this is all great,’ I say. ‘This is all brilliant.’ I’m about to tell her that she should clearly choose Martin, but I don’t get the chance.

‘There’s this other boy,’ George says. ‘And I know you’ll say he’s not here and he’s not real but I know who he is, and I’ve liked him for a long time.’ I can see her wondering whether to trust me, and deciding that she will. ‘It’s Cal,’ she says.

‘Cal?’ I ask.

‘Cal. Rachel’s brother.’

She adds in the bit about Rachel because I’m not saying anything, and she must assume that I haven’t put two and two together. I put them together the second she said Cal; I was just trying to buy myself some time.