THE TROUBLE WITH PAPER PLANES(15)

“While you’re in my lair – so to speak – have you got a costume sorted for tomorrow night?” Jas asked, glancing at me in the mirror again.

“Yep. Done.”

“What is it?”

“Ah!” I tried to wink at her, tapping my nose. “Surprise.”

“I’m not kidding, Heath. If you turn up without a costume, I’m kicking you out. You’ve been warned.”

“Oh ye of little faith!” I threw my hands up in mock disappointment. “Don’t you trust me?”

“In a word? No.”

“Jazzy, I promise you – I have a costume and it’s awesome,” I said, shrugging modestly. “But I’m keeping it under my hat. And that may or may not be a clue.”

She raised her eyebrows at me in the mirror but didn’t say anything.

“My costume is awesome,” Vinnie stated. “Isn’t it babe?”

“It’s… very you.”

“Which is to say, awesome.”

I chuckled. Despite Jas being four years younger than Vinnie, she was definitely the one who wore the pants in their relationship, and that was a good thing. She was like me – sensible, logical, level-headed, but with a side of stubborn that I was completely in awe of. It took a special kind of woman to put up with Vinnie’s shit, and she was that woman. She was going to be the sensible Mum, just like ours was. And Vinnie would be the fun Dad. They’d be the perfect little family, and I’d be the weird, quiet, eternally-single Uncle Heath.

Christ almighty.

Em was very much like Vinnie, and in our relationship, we were total opposites. But that had seemed to work fine, just like Vinnie and Jas did. But now she was gone and there was just me. I felt like I was floating sometimes, without her to tether me. It was like she took all the fun, the joy and the laughter with her. Me, on my own, was just sensible, like Jas said. But sensible was damn lonely.

It’d been tough for Jas, after Em disappeared. They’d been like two peas in a pod, from their first day at school. Then Em was gone and she was struggling, as though she was missing a limb. But she was lucky. Vinnie was there and he was patient, and he loved her through all of it. I think, in a way, working through it together was what made them even stronger.

The town was dead and traffic was non-existent. Before long, we were pulling up in my driveway. I looked down at the house, nestled halfway down the hill, behind the mature trees on the front lawn. No light shone in the windows, no-one moved around inside. It was just sitting there in the darkness, shrouded in loneliness. There was something incredibly depressing about coming home to an empty, dark house. It was like a beacon. Look! I’m all alone! I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it.

“So, we’ll pick you up tomorrow morning then?” Jas asked, yanking me out of the pit.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

“Five thirty, okay? I told Bridget we’d meet her there, she’s picking up Henry on the way through.”

“Yeah, that’s sweet. Thanks for the lift.”

“No worries. Got your keys?”

“He doesn’t need babysitting,” Vinnie chuckled as I got out of the car. “Ain’t that right, bro?”

“Ha-ha, yeah, whatever.” I ducked down to see Jas. “Yep, got my keys – see you guys in the morning.”

I made my way down the concrete driveway to the front door. I used the light from the car’s head-lights to jam my key into the lock and flicked on the hall light as the car reversed back out onto the road again. Closing the door behind me, the silence seemed to buzz in my ears, taunting me. After what happened today – meeting Maia, talking with Henry, seeing Alex at the pub – Emily seemed to be everywhere.

I was so drunk, I was wired. My brain was spinning, and I was caught in that dream-like hinterland, halfway between fantasy and reality.

I’d always been able to feel Em in the house. I think I convinced myself that, because all the evidence of her was here, it meant she still was, too. I could feel her all around me, in the furnishings she had chosen, in the photos of us on the wall, in the bathroom, where her toothbrush still sat in the holder by the sink. But lately, it felt like she was fading. Her presence, if you want to call it that, wasn’t as strong as it once was. I told myself it was because I was getting used to her not being here. I didn’t want to think about what that might mean, but I missed her – her presence, the feel of her in the house. It felt emptier now, colder.