The Things I Know(48)

‘What d’you mean?’

‘I mean, at school, you always kind of hung back and kept your barriers up, as if you expected the worst from everyone.’

‘I did expect the worst from everyone. Kids can be horrible – they were to me anyway.’ She thought of Emery.

‘Yeah, but not all of us. You had friends, you know – you just didn’t commit.’

Thomasina thought about the terrible ache of loneliness she had carried throughout her school years and the desperation she had felt at being excluded. ‘I thought I was a burden to any social group. I couldn’t run or keep up very well and I was never going to help lure the boys in.’ She passed her hand over her mouth.

‘Yes, but that’s not what we thought, certainly not what I thought, only what you did.’ Shelley spoke softly and met her gaze.

‘I think I was conditioned to think like that, not anyone’s fault, not really, but my mum and dad always made me feel a bit different. They were overprotective and told me what I couldn’t do and that I had to stay close, stay safe, and I guess I just . . .’

‘Went with it because you’re a good daughter and it was easier, safer?’ Shelley filled in the blanks.

‘I guess so. It’s only now that I’m shaking off my armour, breaking free a bit.’

‘Well, that’s good. That’s really good. Because it’s true what I said – life doesn’t come to you, you have to chase it.’

Thomasina nodded. This had never felt truer than now.

'Where's that dead bird, Hitch?'

‘She’s in the bath now. I moved her off the cushion. I didn’t know what to do with her.’ Again the reminder of poor, dead Daphne was enough to make her tears bloom.

‘So you put her in my bath?’ Shelley shook her head. ‘For the love of God, go and see Grayskull, or whatever his bloody name is, and take that sodding dead bird with you!’

‘I just might.’ She pictured herself running into his arms. ‘Can I ask you to do something?’

‘Sure, what?’ Shelley stubbed her cigarette out and stared at her, all ears.

‘Can you call me Thomasina?’

Shelley nodded. ‘Yes – yes, I can. Thomasina! Now that’s what I’m talking about!’

The two girls laughed as they sat in the top rooms of the shitty pub that was their whole social life. They laughed because they motivated each other in the way that friends did, with nothing more than their words of positivity, and in those moments everything felt possible.

Thomasina lay on the sofa and again picked up her pen.

I know Shelley is right. I need to find the courage to chase the life I want.

I know I need to find the courage to chase the life I deserve.

I know what I experienced with Grayson felt true.

I know I have never felt as happy as when I was with him.

I know he made me feel brand new.

I know, if he’s not the man I thought he was, I’ll be crushed.

I know I can rely on Shelley.

I know I can’t think about Daphne without crying.

I know I’ll miss her.

And I know that this is my turning point. I know I need to stop looking at all the reasons I can’t and start thinking of all the reasons I can. And I know that if anyone tells me I can’t, I’ll tell them I’m worth more and turn on my heel and strut away with my head held high and without looking back!





NINE

Paddington Station was busy, scarily busy, but undercutting her fear was a thrilling sensation of adventure. Here she was in London. The Big Smoke. Alone. There was no Mum reminding her to keep a hand on her bag and no Mrs Pepper hollering over her shoulder in any crowd, ‘Stay close! Stay close!’

Thomasina noticed that everyone apart from herself seemed to know where they were going. With her mum’s instruction now echoing in her mind, she held her bag close to her chest and studied the Tube map on the wall. People rushed by and there was constant movement and a ricochet of sound that assaulted her senses. She looked around left and right, as if newly stepped from a merry-go-round at the fair, a little dazed and trying to figure out how to stay upright.

The plan had seemed so straightforward in her head. She would confront Grayson and ask him outright if he had felt the same way or whether she had badly misread the situation and he was indeed capable of telling a lie. The outcome would then be one of two things. If he had been telling the truth and did feel the same way, they would make a plan, find a way to navigate life, geography and circumstance . . . because life without him was not half as wonderful as life with him in it. It really was that simple.

If, on the other hand, he was a liar, she would stop pining for him and walk away with her head held high, leaving him in his shitty flat and wishing he too might fall down a well, preferably one with Emery already in it, and she would do as Shelley had suggested: not think too far ahead, but grab life and run with it.

Despite such brave and empowering thoughts, her heart raced at the prospect of their reunion with a mixture of excitement and naked fear, and it would be happening sooner rather than later.

‘Bakerloo line to Baker Street, then the Jubilee line from Baker Street to Canary Wharf, then I can walk the rest.’ She locked this in her mind and descended the stairs that would take her down to the Underground. It felt like the most unnatural thing in the world to be leaving the sunlight and heading beneath the city like a mole or a rat.