Page 120 of The Spark

But for today, it is Christmas. And this year, no expense has been spared – thanks, I suspect, to Felix. There is a turkey about five times too big for the four of us, piles of gifts and boxes of chocolates and bowls overflowing with nuts and crisps and tangerines. Billy’s favourite Elvis Christmas album is playing. The fire crackles sumptuously. In this moment, death and unhappiness feel so distant, I can barely believe they are real.

After lunch, Lara insists we play Monopoly.

‘But you can’t let me win,’ she says, sternly. ‘I don’t want a pity-victory.’

So we play, but it’s obvious Felix is letting her win. And I can’t help thinking, She meant that. She didn’t want a pity-victory.

Then again, the love of his life is dying. She might only have a matter of weeks left. We’re all floundering here. None of us knows what the hell we’re supposed to do.

I catch up with him in the kitchen as he’s making coffee. Lara and her mum are in the living room, trying to find a good, uplifting film to watch. No James Bond for us this year. None of us wants to think about death or suffering, even in the context of a film franchise we always loved.

Felix and I are both wearing Christmas jumpers, on Lara’s orders. His says, Pull My Cracker. Mine says, Festive As F**k.

Next to the kettle, I touch his arm. ‘I just want you to know. I still loved her, even when I was angry with her.’

He turns to face me. His eyes are so kind. I see it fully, now. All my doubts were misplaced. Lara’s discomfort was never about him. It was about the cancer taking hold inside her. Nothing to do with her gentle, loving boyfriend.

‘I know,’ he says. ‘And she always knew it too, deep down.’

‘I just didn’t know how to process what had happened.’

He nods, leans back against the kitchen worktop. He looks tired, I realise. Drained of hope, even though he puts on a superhuman show each day for her.

‘How are you coping?’ I say, softly.

‘Uh, some good days. Some bad. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to... you know. Say goodbye.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

‘I love her,’ he says, as if he thinks I might not know.

‘She loves you too. So much.’

He nods. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’m so glad she found you.’

‘I’m so glad she found me too.’

A moment passes. I feel his eyes on me, like he’s trying to think of the right way to say something else.

Eventually, he says, ‘Neve, for what it’s worth – I think Ash is a really good guy.’

I smile sadly. ‘So do I.’

‘Is it too late?’

‘I can’t... think about that right now. I can only think about Lara.’

‘She’d hate you to lose what you have with him. She wants you to be happy, Neve.’

I nod, because I know. But still. I am only able to focus on getting through the next week. Saying goodbye to Lar.

‘You could invite him. To the funeral.’

‘No. I just need to be there one hundred per cent for Lara. No distractions. He’d understand.’

‘Okay. I get that.’

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