Page 95 of The Spark

So I do. I describe all the intricacies and hallmarks of who Jamie was. His innate tenderness, his dry humour. His passion for architecture. Where he hoped to live. Who he wanted to be. I open my phone and show her the list I made of all the ways in which he was similar to Ash.

When I’m done, Gabi puts her vape away then pulls her cardigan a little tighter, her breath making mist in the air. ‘See, your man was the opposite of the Ash I knew. Ash was a livewire, a joker, loved a prank, would never shut up. We all thought he was going to be famous one day. Like, a household name. We just didn’t know for what.’ She laughs faintly. ‘I guess he sort of got there, with the lightning strike and the papers and all that. Which I actually thought was funny at first. Like, the kind of thing that could only happen to Ash.’

We say nothing more for a couple of moments, until the silence is dismantled by the wail of an ambulance siren.

‘What do your parents think about what happened?’ I ask her. ‘Your mum didn’t say much when I was talking the other night.’

Gabi smiles. ‘No. I don’t think she quite bought what you were telling her. Well done for trying, though. You delivered quite the speech, apparently.’

I shut my eyes briefly. ‘I know.’

‘It’s okay. I’m assuming she kind of dragged it out of you? Mum has a knack for doing that. I’ve always thought she missed her vocation as an MI6 interrogator.’

‘Kind of,’ I admit. ‘But it’s not her fault. I didn’t have to say anything.’

Gabi shrugs. ‘Well, if it helps, you were only saying what I think, every day: that it doesn’t make sense. That something isn’t right.’

Vindication sits bolt upright in my chest. ‘You really think there might be something in it?’

‘Maybe. But as you know, my brother definitely doesn’t.’ She frowns, chews her bottom lip. ‘Look, Ash has had two fairly major near-misses in his life now, and countless minor ones. Tonight, it was as if he became the brother I lost all over again. And I have to be honest... it doesn’t feel that great. So maybe he’s right. Maybe I do just need to accept that he’s... a better version of who he was before.’

‘Maybe,’ I say neutrally, not wanting to derail her train of thought, because I’m desperate to see where it leads.

‘And maybe you need to accept who he is, too. Whether he’s really your ex, or not. Because I think you make Ash happy, and I think he does the same for you. And ultimately... I’d rather have a different version of him than no brother at all.’

‘What are you saying?’

She sighs heavily, like she’s encountering the full weight of the last decade all over again. ‘I’m saying that whoever Ash is now, I have a feeling that without you by his side, I’m pretty sure all is lost. So, can you two please just sort it out? Because I’ll be straight with you – I would really like him to make it to old age, and I think you can probably help with that.’

‘Okay,’ I tell her, my mind a hailstorm of conflicting emotions. ‘Okay. I’ll try.’

Chapter 41.

Then

A few nights after dinner with Jamie’s parents, I knew.

I came back from the bathroom in the middle of the night and sat down on the edge of our bed. The air was still, unruffled by breeze. Through our open window, I could hear traffic on the ring road, the sound of people walking home from the pub. From somewhere close by, music was playing, the incessant gallop of a repeating bass line.

‘Jamie,’ I whispered.

He rolled over and groaned.

‘Jamie.’

I could feel rather than see his eyes snap open in the gloom. ‘You okay?’

‘I think... I think I’m having a miscarriage.’

The spotting had started two days before. I’d been hoping, praying, that it was nothing to worry about. But now the cramps had come, and the pain was lower, heavier. The bleeding was brighter now, too. An alert, an alarm.

He snapped on the bedside light, then sat up bare-chested, blinking into its glare. He looked disorientated and shocked, like he’d woken midway through a burglary. It was theft of a kind, I thought. Something was being stolen against my will.

I was already smarting with shame for not having been brave enough to tell him. For this being how he found out. For him learning about, and losing, our baby at exactly the same time.

It had been ten days since the pregnancy test. Ten days of keeping it secret. In that moment, I questioned myself. Wondered if the miscarriage was my fault, somehow. If all the lying and evading and pretending had put too much stress on my body.

‘What... What do you mean?’ His eyes and voice were thick with dismay.

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