The Art of Not Breathing(33)

“I’m worried about him,” she says. “He seems really distant. Is everything okay at home? I know he’s got exams, but so have we.”

“Yeah, fine,” I say, wondering how much Dillon has told her about Mum’s drinking and Dad’s disappearing acts.

“I guess you guys have a lot to deal with,” she says. “If you ever want to talk . . .”

She looks genuinely concerned, and I feel sorry for her. I hope my brother isn’t the shag-then-leave-them type.

“I think Dillon is okay,” I say. “He’s just a bit stressed over his exams.”

But she’s right. Dillon is being very weird. He keeps having nightmares, and he never eats the food I cook, even when it’s healthy. I need to take him to the beach to cheer him up and get him away from his books. I also want to ask him again who he was looking for on the beach that day. I haven’t had any new memories, and now that I’m comfortable in the water, I’m starting to think I might not have any ever again.





14



THERE IS A HUGE SWELL, AND THE WIND CHURNS UP THE WATER so it looks like frothed-up egg white. Tay isn’t in the boathouse, where we’d agreed to meet. After a few minutes, I hear the door to the clubhouse slam, and then voices. I crawl outside and peer around the corner.

Danny and Tay are on the veranda having what looks like a heated discussion. The wind is too loud for me to hear properly, but I catch the end of the conversation.

“You know what you need to do,” Danny says.

“Fuck off,” Tay replies, and then jumps down the steps two at a time. I slither back into the boathouse and pretend that I’ve been there the whole time.

Tay is agitated when he comes inside, swearing under his breath and kicking things about. After he discovers all the beers are gone, he slams my cupboard door so hard that the whole thing topples over.

“I can go and get more beers if you want,” I offer.

He sits down heavily and leans back against the wall.

“It’s fine.”

I light us cigarettes and pass one to him. Even when he’s angry, he smokes delicately.

There’s a nasty yellow bruise on the bridge of his nose. He sees me looking and turns away, so I don’t say anything, but I’m guessing what I heard wasn’t Tay’s first fight with Danny. “I can’t do the rings,” I say after a while.

Tay puts his arm around me and tells me he thinks the sideways smoke looks better anyway. I can’t help but look at the bruise— there’s a small cut, too, that’s scabbed over.

“Must have whacked myself in the face while I was asleep,” he says.

I frown at him.

“Who were you talking to just now? Danny?”

“No one.”

“Tay, I could hear you. Why did you tell him to f*ck off?”

“He’s just being a twat. He says I need to help more with the diving club. He thinks I shouldn’t be spending all my time with you.”

“So? I thought you didn’t have to listen to him.”

Tay brings his knees up and then stretches out again, like he can’t get comfortable.

“He says you’re too vulnerable.”

And then I know that Danny has told Tay about Eddie. I shouldn’t have provoked him by waving all the time, and there’s a chance he saw me having a teary moment in the water the other day.

“He’s told you about my twin, hasn’t he?”

Tay is silent for a minute and just smokes. At first I panic and think that Danny was right, Tay doesn’t even care. Then I wonder if he just didn’t hear me.

“Tay?”

He turns to me and reaches out to stroke my hair. Then he puts his cigarette down and touches my forehead with his. Finally, he pulls back and picks up his cigarette again.

“I know about Eddie,” he says. “And I’m sorry. Why didn’t you talk to me about him?”

He doesn’t give me the pity head tilt. Instead, what I read in his face is disappointment that I didn’t tell him myself. And something else. Admiration, perhaps.

“I can’t pretend to know how you feel,” he continues. “But just so you know, you can talk about it, if you want. Or not, if you don’t want to.”

I’m so relieved he’s not running away that I kiss him, on the lips, and I have to rein myself back in before I literally eat him. And he is just as hungry for me. And then, when I’ve kissed away all my fear and I feel Eddie getting embarrassed for me, I tell Tay everything: about the day Eddie disappeared, the police search, the flashbacks I’ve been having. Tay holds me against him as I talk. I can’t see his face, but I can tell he’s listening because he breathes lightly and twirls my hair. I’ve never told my story to anyone before. Everyone I meet either already knows or doesn’t need to know. I tell him about how my family is falling apart, about Dillon not eating, and about his nightmares.

“He wakes in the night shouting, ‘You let him go!’ And it’s completely my fault.”

Tay squeezes my hand.

“It’s not your fault, El.”

I sit up and look at him. His eyes are watery, but he quickly wipes them dry.

I’m ready to tell someone my biggest secret.

“It was my fault,” I say. “I was supposed to hold Eddie’s hand the whole time we were in the water. I shouldn’t have let go but I did. He’s never said it to me, but I know Dillon blames me. My dad does too.”