Just The Way You Are(4)

Besides, I’d never spent so much as one night alone. What if I hated it?

Even thinking about the logistics of it all: telling Mum, packing up, sorting all the admin, finding somewhere new… the whole idea was exhausting, and that was all before I’d actually gone anywhere.

But as I trudged up our narrow, concrete drive, I allowed myself one moment to imagine what it would be like if the house that awaited me was empty. I’d slip off my shoes, sink into the sofa and soak up the blissful silence. I’d watch whatever I felt like on television instead of endless soap operas. Eat what I wanted, when I wanted, rather than the standard six o’clock sit-down meal.

For the first time in as long as I could remember, I’d please myself.

Was I a horrible, selfish cow for even thinking about it?





Either way, I thought of nothing else for the rest of the week. On Saturday morning, as soon as Mum left for work at the Buttonhole, I drove round to see Steph, with the promise of her usual weekend breakfast pancakes, bacon and eggs and token bowl of berries.

Her brother, Nicky, answered the door. ‘Hey, Ollie!’ he yelled, while racing back into the kitchen. ‘Can’t stop!’

I followed him down the hallway as he whipped open the back door and sped out.

‘Drew’s taking him for a bike ride,’ Steph said, shaking her head. ‘Helmet on first!’ she yelled through the door. ‘Drew – are you watching him?’

‘He’s fine!’ Drew appeared at the door, snaking one arm out to snatch a slice of bacon, grabbing Steph and kissing her when she leant forwards to slap his hand. ‘Relax and enjoy your breakfast.’

‘I’ll relax once you’ve stopped ogling me and are properly watching my brother!’

Drew grinned at me, waggling his eyebrows, before disappearing into the garden.

Having a brother with Down syndrome was the main reason why Steph had waited so long to marry the boy she’d loved since seventeen. She had basically raised Nicky, along with their two brothers, having been adamant that they would escape the future that too many people considered inevitable for mixed-race boys growing up on an estate run by criminals, with empty cupboards, a father in and out of prison and a mother who clung to whatever man would have her. With Jordan now a junior doctor, Simeon studying for a PhD in computer science and Nicky settled in supported accommodation, Steph had pretty much sprinted down the aisle last year.

She made two cappuccinos using the machine I’d bought for a wedding present, and joined me at the table, squeezing her generous curves into the breakfast nook. ‘I thought you might want to talk without Tweedledum and Tweedledee chipping in every two seconds.’

I helped myself to a pancake and a spoonful of scrambled eggs. Steph knew me well enough to decipher the tornado of emotions swirling behind the brief messages I’d sent during the week.

‘Have you spoken to Mark?’ she asked, easing me in with a low-key topic.

I cringed. ‘He avoided me at the library on Thursday, and then sent a text saying that he’d decided to give things another go with his ex. He didn’t want me to feel awkward, because she works in the library and I might see them together.’

‘Ouch.’

‘Yeah. I knew who he meant straight away. She’s one of those really enthusiastic, smiley people who ends every sentence with a question and I sort of already hated her a bit.’

Steph made a scoffing noise. ‘She can have him. Mark was only a practice run, to get you back dating. He was never going to be the man you embark upon the Dream List with.’

I sighed. She was probably right.

‘You know I’m right.’

‘Okay, but whatever Mark might or might not have been, that’s not the point, is it?’

It was Steph’s turn to sigh. ‘What are you going to do? This is not going to get better on its own. She’s not going to get any better if you keep dropping everything whenever she imagines a new twinge.’

I could feel my shoulders hunching over as my internal organs shrank away from this truth.

‘She’s ill!’

‘Yeah, a chronic case of selfish cowitis. Smothering mothering syndrome.’ She used a chunk of crispy bacon to mop up the remains of syrup on her plate.

I shook my head. ‘I accept that the pains are mostly psychological, maybe even deliberate, but that just shows how desperate and scared she is about being alone. I hate myself for even wishing I could leave.’

Steph’s voice softened. ‘She’s manipulating you into never having a relationship, hoping it will trap you there forever. Jonathan was right, it’s toxic, and I feel so angry and sad that you would let someone keep treating you like this.’

I sat back, my breakfast curdling in my stomach. Had Steph been talking to Aunty Linda behind my back?

‘I know what happened this week wasn’t okay. But she’s not been like that for ages. Most of the time we get on really well.’

‘Because most of the time you do what she wants, and you don’t try and go on dates!’

‘Do I have to move out, though?’

Steph tugged on her black curls with clenched fists. ‘That’s not the question here! Do you want to move out, now, instead of waiting for the excuse of some mystery Dream Man who might never appear?’

I scrunched my face up, eventually finding enough courage to whisper, ‘I think I do.’