Calling Me Away (4 page)

Would Ashleigh like it? I suppose I couldn’t make this decision with anyone else but myself in mind. That was the point, wasn’t it? This was what she wanted from me. To see the decisions in front of me, weigh each one carefully, then pick. Every hour I spent away from her, my focus was getting clearer.

Back inside, I ran my hand along the cool marble of the breakfast bar. Could I see myself reading the paper here?

“There are two bedrooms,” the agent said as I followed her through the flat. She pointed out the master and then the guest bedroom. “There’s a desk in there so you could use it as a study.”

Perhaps it was difficult to picture myself living here because I’d never lived on my own. It struck me that I might get lonely. I could host a Sunday dinner. The dining table seated six, so we’d all fit. Seeing my family here would help me settle. “I can rent from month to month?” I asked. I guess I could try it and see how I liked it.

“Yes, you just need to give thirty days’ notice after the first month, so a minimum two-month stay.”

“I’ll take it.” There was no point in delaying. I needed to take the plunge and move forward.

The agent’s eyes widened.

“And it’s okay if I bring some additional furniture. A sofa . . .” My old brown leather sofa was the only thing I would take from the flat I’d shared with Emma. I loved that thing. It had been my first big, adult purchase, and it had seen a lot of beer, banter and girls. Where I went, the sofa came with me.

“I don’t think that’s a problem. When do you want to move in?”

“You can’t make it happen quick enough.”

The agent grinned. “Let’s go back to the office and get you to sign the paperwork, and I can give you the keys.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets and grinned.

Progress.

Ashleigh

I stared out the window of the café where I’d lunched with Luke just a few weeks ago. It was raining and the windows had begun to fog up. I wiped the glass with the sleeve of my uniform so I could see the raindrops on the outside more clearly. It was like I was watching the inside of my heart. Damp, gray and miserable. Was Luke thinking the same thing? Was he hurting as I was? I wanted to call him, just to hear his voice. To let him tell me that everything was going to be okay. My brain knew that I had to give him space and time to figure out what he really wanted. My heart thought my brain was an idiot.

Adding to my pain was that I couldn’t talk about it with Haven. I didn’t want to create conflict when there was none, but I didn’t want her to tell me I’d been a fool. Not for hoping that a relationship with Luke could work, or for pushing him away. My two best friends were suddenly people who I couldn’t reach out to. The separation felt physical, slicing through me like a million tiny blades.

And then of course there was the guilt. I’d had two patients ask if I was okay. Jesus, that made my stomach tumble. I was distracted, feeling sorry for myself and surrounded by people in their last few weeks of life. How incredibly selfish was that?

“Hey, Ash.” A voice from behind interrupted my self-pity. I was considering whether or not I had the energy to greet the person speaking to me when Richard came into view. “You okay?” he asked.

I nodded and forced the corners of my mouth up in an unconvincing smile. I’d not seen much of Richard since we’d broken up. That wasn’t unusual, and it hadn’t been long. He had probably been on nights. My shifts were more predictable, mainly eight to four with the odd Saturday thrown in. Who said there wasn’t a bright side in palliative care?

“Can I join you?” he asked.

I wanted to say no. I wanted to be left alone with my head full of misery, but Richard was too nice to say no to.

“Sure.” I sat back in my chair, my uneaten sandwich in front of me, as I watched Richard set down his tray, his eyes flickering between his food and my face.

“You seem upset.”

I focused on his throat, not wanting to meet his eyes. How could I tell him that I was heartbroken, just not over him? “Tell me a joke,” I said. “Distract me.”

“A priest, a rabbi and a vicar walk into a bar. The barman says, ‘Is this some kind of joke?’”

I rolled my eyes but managed a genuine smirk.

“Okay, we’re going to need a bigger boat.” He narrowed his eyes then said, “I cleaned the attic with the wife the other day. Now I can’t get the cobwebs out of her hair.”

Half-heartedly, I mimed a roll of the drums and the bash of a cymbal.

“It must be bad. That was funny. What’s up?”

I shrugged and turned back to the rain. “This weather is shit.”

“Yeah, but it’s like this a lot and you’re not normally miserable. How about I cheer you up?”

Richard was being nice, but I just wanted to disappear into myself. I didn’t want to cheer up.

“I have tickets to see Bradley Cooper in The Elephant Man. Wanna come?”

I lifted my chin. What? Was he asking me out to improve my mood, or because he wanted another shot? Perhaps Luke would want another shot with Emma now I’d pushed him away. The thought made my stomach churn.

“Next Thursday, you’re probably busy, but . . .”

“How come you have a spare ticket?” I sounded ungrateful, which wasn’t my intention. I was just trying to establish on what terms he was asking me. “I mean, it’s a popular show.”

“I got them for my mum, but I got the date wrong and she’s away on some yoga retreat. I hoped we were still friends, but if you feel uncomfortable . . .” This time it was Richard’s turn to concentrate on the rain. God, I’d infected him with my bad mood.

“That’s so sweet of you. I’d love to go to the theater.” But how did I make it clear that I wasn’t interested in trying again with him? “I mean, it’s really very kind of you to invite me. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take someone else?” I didn’t want him to waste a good date opportunity. But at the same time, I was curious how they were going to turn Bradley Cooper, of all people, into the Elephant Man. It was the first time I’d spent a full ten seconds not thinking about Luke. It was a relief to know it was possible.

“No, I’d like us to go together. As friends.” He said the last words as if he were replying to his mother. Yes, I’ll be back my dinner time. Yes, I’ve brushed my teeth. I’d never seen him look so young. He grinned, and I couldn’t help but return his smile.

“I’d like that,” I said. I knew I would. He was a good guy, and I needed to widen my social circle. Spending some time with people outside of Luke’s world would be good for me.

“You never know, Ash, you might just fall in love with me once you see The Elephant Man.”

I rolled my eyes. “Is that your plan?”

“I couldn’t possibly tell you. All I know is the hottest woman at the hospital just agreed to go to the theater with me.”

“Yeah, super-hot. Especially in my clogs.” I pointed to my feet. I wanted to go, but I needed him to know we were in the friend zone.

“I know we’re going as friends. But you can’t rule anything out in this life.” He grinned. “Remember that.”

By the time I finished my shift, the small sliver of light that Richard’s invitation had created had disappeared, and the gray had returned. I kept going to text or call Haven or Luke, then remembering that I couldn’t. I’d switched my phone off. I couldn’t be upset when it didn’t ring if it wasn’t on in the first place.

Girl logic.

I was staring into the fridge, trying to decide if I was hungry enough to make myself an omelet, when I jumped at the sound of the buzzer. Shit, I wasn’t dressed for company. I wasn’t mentally prepared to have to speak to people without coming off crazy. I’d managed it at work—at least I thought I had. No one else had asked if I was okay, so I felt like I’d pulled it off. But it had taken a tremendous effort. Now, all I wanted to do was sit and watch mindless television. My door vibrated under the force of someone’s fist. Fucking hell.

My stomach flipped at the outside possibility that it might be Luke, here to tell me I’d been an idiot, to hold my head in his hands and give me a Hollywood-style kiss. It would be so much easier if that had been his reaction. I would have given in to him, and in the long run, it would have destroyed us. But at least I wouldn’t be feeling as hopeless as I was, and right at that second, that sounded pretty good.

“Open the fucking door, Ash,” Haven yelled. I sprinted to the spyhole to see if she was alone.

“I’m coming, you impatient shrew.” Amongst the shouting, I forgot for a second that maybe it might be awkward, given that I’d had sex with her brother and then dumped him. Or sort of dumped him. Was she going to pick a side? Had she come here to give me a piece of her mind? Put her shoe up my ass?

I flung the door open, and before I got a chance to say anything, she pushed past me carrying supermarket bags.

Haven unpacked what looked like a year’s worth of carbohydrates onto my kitchen counter. “So, I have all mandatory food groups. Wine, ice cream, chocolate, white bread and pizza. Oh yes, and of course, diet Coke.” She began wrestling with the corkscrew. “What do you want to start with?”

I picked up a humungous bar of chocolate and pulled the corners apart.

“You look like you’ve showered,” she said, clearly expecting me to be more of a mess.

“No one died,” I replied.

“No, you just told the love of your life that you didn’t want to be with him.”

I let her words swirl around the kitchen as I tried to work out whether she sounded angry with me. Upset? Disappointed? But I couldn’t hear any of that. Her tone was entirely neutral.

“You think I’m nuts?” I asked.

“I love my brother, right?” Haven glanced at me, and I had to look away. “And I love you. I want you to be happy. From what he’s told me, I get it. I think. But I’m here for you. Until death do us part.”

“You’re a freak. I think those are the vows you exchanged with your husband,” I said, shaking my head.

“The thing is you and I don’t need vows. It’s just how it is.” She thrust a cold glass of wine into my hand and ushered us out of the kitchen, laden with alcohol and snacks.

“I was worried you’d tell me I was an idiot.” I broke off a chunk of chocolate the size of my head.

“I can do, if you want,” Haven replied.

“You know what I’m trying to say. I don’t know if we should talk about this. I mean—”

“Of course we should talk about it.” She took a swig of wine, placed it on the coffee table and sat forward expectantly. “So, pretend he’s not my brother, except I don’t want to hear about his penis. Go.”

I slumped back into the sofa, relieved she was here and wasn’t mad. We were still us, despite what had happened with Luke. Now she was asking, there was no way I wasn’t talking about it. I mean Haven would pin me down and experiment with five different kinds of Chinese water torture if she had to, the mood she was in, but I wanted to talk to her about it.

Tears formed immediately and my forehead became tight. I hadn’t cried about this. I didn’t want to cry because if I did, I was accepting the possibility that Luke and I were over. While I managed to hold back my tears, I was in the world where Luke and I were only temporarily apart. That he would pick me. That we would be together.

“There’s nothing to cry about. You and Luke will happen,” Haven said, vocalizing my thoughts. “This is just, I don’t know, the prequel.” Her weird analogy was oddly comforting.