Me Before You: After You Part 10

I didn't tell Dad we were coming. I wasn't entirely sure how to have that conversation. We pulled up outside our house and I sat for a minute, conscious, as she peered out of the window, of the small, rather weary appearance of my parents' house in comparison with her own. She had suggested we bring flowers when I told her my mother would insist we stay for lunch, and got cross when I suggested petrol-station carnations, even though they were for someone she'd never met.

I had driven to the supermarket on the other side of Stortfold, where she had chosen a huge hand-tied bouquet of freesias, peonies and ranunculus. Which I had paid for.

'Stay here a minute,' I said, as she started to climb out. 'I'm going to explain before you come in.'

'But '

'Trust me,' I said. 'They're going to need a minute.'

I walked up the little garden path and knocked on the door. I could hear the television in the living room, and pictured Granddad there, watching the racing, his mouth working silently along with the horses'

legs. The sights and sounds of home. I thought of the months I had kept away, no longer sure I was even welcome, of how I had refused to allow myself to think of how it felt to walk up this path, the fabric- conditioned scent of my mother's embrace, my father's distant bellow of laughter.

Dad opened the door, and his eyebrows shot up. 'Lou! We weren't expecting you! ... Were we expecting you?' He stepped forward and enveloped me in a hug.

I realized I liked having my family back. 'Hi, Dad.'

He waited on the step, arm outstretched. The smell of roast chicken wafted down the corridor. 'You coming in, then, or are we going to have a picnic out on the front step?'

'I need to tell you something first.'

'You lost your job.'

'No, I did not lose my '

'You got another tattoo.'

'You knew about the tattoo?'

'I'm your father. I've known about every b.l.o.o.d.y thing you and your sister have done since you were three years old.' He leaned forward. 'Your mother would never let me have one.'

'No, Dad, I don't have another tattoo.' I took a breath. 'I ... I have Will's daughter.'

Dad stood very still. Mum appeared behind him, with her ap.r.o.n on. 'Lou!' She caught the look on Dad's face. 'What? What's wrong?'

'She says she has Will's daughter.'

'She has Will's what?' Mum squawked.

Dad had gone quite white. He reached behind him for the radiator and clutched it.

'What?' I said, anxious. 'What's the matter?'

'You you're not telling me you harvested his ... you know ... his little fellas?'

I pulled a face. 'She's in the car. She's sixteen years old.''Oh, thank G.o.d. Oh, Josie, thank G.o.d. These days, you're so ... I never know what ' He composed himself. 'Will's daughter, you say? You never said he '

'I didn't know. n.o.body knew.'

Mum peered around him to my car, where Lily was trying to act as if she didn't know she was being talked about.

'Well, you'd better bring her in,' said Mum, her hand to her neck. 'It's a decent-sized chicken. It will do all of us if I add a few more potatoes.' She shook her head in amazement. 'Will's daughter. Well, goodness, Lou. You're certainly full of surprises.' She waved at Lily, who waved back tentatively. 'Come on in, love!'

Dad lifted a hand in greeting, then murmured quietly, 'Does Mr Traynor know?'

'Not yet.'

Dad rubbed his chest. 'Is there anything else?'

'Like what?'

'Anything else you need to tell me. You know, apart from jumping off buildings and bringing home long-lost children. You're not joining the circus, or adopting a kid from Kazakhstan or something?'

'I promise I am doing none of the above. Yet.'

'Well, thank the Lord for that. What's the time? I think I'm ready for a drink.'

'So where'd you go to school, Lily?'

'It's a small boarding-school in Shrops.h.i.+re. No one's ever heard of it. It's mostly posh r.e.t.a.r.ds and distant members of the Moldavian royal family.'

We had crammed ourselves around the dining-table in the front room, the seven of us knee to knee, and six of us praying that n.o.body needed the loo, which would necessitate everyone getting up and moving the table six inches towards the sofa.

'Boarding-school, eh? Tuck shops and midnight feasts and all that? I bet that's a gas.'

'Not really. They shut the tuck shop last year because half the girls had eating disorders and were making themselves sick on Snickers bars.'

'Lily's mother lives in St John's Wood,' I said. 'She's staying with me for a couple of days while she ... while she gets to know a bit about the other side of her family.'

Mum said, 'The Traynors have lived here for generations.'

'Really? Do you know them?'

Mum froze. 'Well, not as such ...'

'What's their house like?'

Mum's face closed. 'You'd be better asking Lou about that sort of thing. She's the one who spent ... all the time there.'

Lily waited.

Dad said, 'I work with Mr Traynor, who is responsible for the running of the estate.'

'Granddad!' exclaimed Granddad, and laughed. Lily glanced at him, then back at me. I smiled, although even the mention of Mr Traynor's name made me feel oddly unbalanced.

'That's right, Daddy,' said Mum. 'He'd be Lily's granddad. Just like you. Now who wants some more potatoes?'

'Granddad,' Lily repeated quietly, clearly pleased.'We'll ring them and ... tell them,' I said. 'And if you like we can drive past their house when we leave. Just so you can see a bit of it.'

My sister sat silently throughout this exchange. Lily had been placed next to Thom, possibly in an attempt to get him to behave better, although the risk of him starting a conversation related to intestinal parasites was still quite high. Treena watched Lily. She was more suspicious than my parents, who had just accepted everything I'd told them. She had hauled me upstairs while Dad was showing Lily the garden, and asked all the questions that had flown wildly around my head, like a trapped pigeon in a closed room. How did I know she was who she said? What did she want? And then, finally, Why on earth would her own mother want her to come and live with you?

'So how long is she staying?' she said, at the table, while Dad was telling Lily about working with green oak.

'We haven't really discussed it.'

She pulled the kind of face at me that told me simultaneously that I was an eejit, and also that this was no surprise to her whatsoever.

'She's been with me for two nights, Treen. And she's only young.'

'My point exactly. What do you know about looking after children?'

'She's hardly a child.'

'She's worse than a child. Teenagers are basically toddlers with hormones old enough to want to do stuff without having any of the common sense. She could get into all sorts of trouble. I can't believe you're actually doing this.'

I handed her the gravy boat. '"h.e.l.lo, Lou. Well done on keeping your job in a tough market.

Congratulations on getting over your terrible accident. It's really lovely to see you." '

She pa.s.sed me the salt, and muttered, under her breath, 'You know, you won't be able to cope with this, as well as ...'

'As well as what?'

'Your depression.'

'I don't have depression,' I hissed. 'I'm not depressed, Treena. For crying out loud, I did not throw myself off a building.'

'You haven't been yourself for ages. Not since the whole Will thing.'

'What do I have to do to convince you? I'm holding down a job. I'm doing my physio to get my hip straight and going to a flipping grief-counselling group to get my mind straight. I think I'm doing pretty well, okay?' The whole table was now listening to me. 'In fact here's the thing. Oh, yes. Lily was there.

She saw me fall. It turns out she was the one who called the ambulance.'

Every member of my family looked at me. 'You see, it's true. She saw me fall. I didn't jump. Lily, I was just telling my sister. You were there when I fell, weren't you? See? I told you all I heard a girl's voice. I wasn't going mad. She actually saw the whole thing. I slipped, right?'

Lily looked up from her plate, still chewing. She had barely stopped eating since we sat down. 'Yup.

She totally wasn't trying to kill herself.'

Mum and Dad exchanged a glance. My mother sighed, crossed herself discreetly and smiled. My sister lifted her eyebrows, the closest I was going to get to an apology. I felt, briefly, elated.

'Yeah. She was just shouting at the sky.' Lily lifted her fork. 'And really, really p.i.s.sed.'There was a brief silence.

'Oh,' said Dad. 'Well, that's '

'That's ... good,' said Mum.

'This chicken's great,' said Lily. 'Can I have some more?'

We stayed until late afternoon, partly because every time I got up to leave, Mum kept pressing more food on us, and partly because having other people to chat to Lily made the situation seem a little less weird and intense. Dad and I moved out to the back garden and the two deckchairs that had somehow failed to rot during another winter (although it was wisest to stay almost completely still once you were in them, just in case).

'You know your sister has been reading The Female Eunuch? And some old s.h.i.+te called The Women' s Bedroom or something. She says your mother is a cla.s.sic example of oppressed womanhood, and that the fact your mother disagrees shows how oppressed she is. She's trying to tell her I should be doing the cooking and cleaning and making out I'm some f.e.c.king caveman. But if I dare to say anything back she keeps telling me to "check my privilege". Check my privilege! I told her I'd be happy to check it if I knew where the h.e.l.l your mother had put it.'

'Mum seems fine to me,' I said. I took a swig of my tea, feeling a faintly guilty pang that the sounds I could hear were Mum was.h.i.+ng up.

He looked sideways at me. 'She hasn't shaved her legs in three weeks. Three weeks, Lou! If I'm really honest it gives me the heebie-jeebies when they touch me. I've been on the sofa for the last two nights. I don't know, Lou. Why are people never happy just to let things be any more? Your mum was happy, I'm happy. We know what our roles are. I'm the one with hairy legs. She's the one who fits the rubber gloves.

Simple.'

Down the garden, Lily was teaching Thom to make birdcalls using a thick blade of gra.s.s. He held it up between his thumbs, but it's possible that his four missing teeth hampered any sound production, as all that emerged was a raspberry and a light shower of saliva.

We sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to the squawks of the birdcalls, Granddad whistling, and next door's dog yelping to be let in. I felt happy to be home.

'So how is Mr Traynor?' I asked.

'Ah, he's grand. You know he's going to be a daddy again?'

I turned, carefully, in my chair. 'Really?'

'Not with Mrs Traynor. She moved out straight after ... you know. This is with the red-headed girl, I forget her name.'

'Della,' I said, remembering suddenly.

'That's the one. They seem to have known each other quite a while, but I think the whole, you know, having-a-baby thing was a bit of a surprise to the both of them.' Dad cracked open another beer. 'He's cheerful enough. I suppose it's nice for him to have a new son or daughter on the way. Something to focus on.'

Some part of me wanted to judge him. But I could too easily imagine the need to create something good out of what had happened, the desire to climb back out, by whatever means.

They're only still together because of me, Will had told me, more than once.

'What do you think he'll make of Lily?' I asked.'I have no idea, love.' Dad thought for a bit. 'I think he'll be happy. It's like he's getting a bit of his son back, isn't it?'

'What do you think Mrs Traynor will think?'

'I don't know, love. I have no idea where she even lives these days.'

'Lily's ... quite a handful.'

Dad burst out laughing. 'You don't say! You and Treena drove your mother and me half demented for years with your late nights and your boyfriends and your heartbreaks. It's about time you had some of it coming back your way.' He took a swig of his beer and chuckled again. 'It's good news, love. I'm glad you won't be on your own in that empty old flat of yours.'

Thom's gra.s.s let out a squawk. His face lit up, and he thrust his blade skyward. We raised our thumbs in salute.

'Dad.'

He turned to me.

'You know I'm fine, right?'

'Yes, love.' He gave me a gentle shoulder b.u.mp. 'But it's my job to worry. I'll be worrying till I'm too old to get out of my chair.' He looked down at it. 'Mind you, that might be sooner than I'd like.'