Page 55 of The Book Swap

Elliot shakes his head. “No one reminds you of that. No one has ever blamed you for that. That’s all on you.”

“You don’t know that, because you left.” The words burst out of me. The ones I’ve been suppressing in every call we ever have. “Mum threw it at me all the time. When you dropped off the face of the earth for those two years, it was like she finally had permission to tell me what she thought of me. She blamed everything on me. I kept trying to call and email you, but you’d cut us off. You’d cut me off.” The last words break as they come out, and I bite down on my lip.

“I had to,” Elliot shouts. “I took that year off for you, James. I was there for you every day, waiting after school, and then Joel came along. You two were always off somewhere.” Tears glisten in his eyes, a smile on his lips. “I was so happy. I knew you didn’t need me anymore, and I was fucked inside. I had all these feelings about who I was, and I didn’t dare say them out loud. Mum was leaning on me more than ever. She kept saying I was the only thing that made her happy.” Guilt washes across his face as he admits it. It doesn’t surprise me, but it still hurts. “I stayed because of you, and the second I could see you were okay without me, I ran. I couldn’t be reminded of home while I figured myself out. I’d have come straight back and I’d never have dealt with it. I never would have met Carl. Never would have had Jordan. I had to do what I did, to be the man I am now. But I’m sorry. I really am sorry.”

I wipe the tears from my eyes. It’s all I’ve ever wanted him to say, and I feel awful for having forced it out of him.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know you were going through stuff too.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he says, his voice gentle. “You couldn’t focus on anything except getting through each day. I don’t even know how you did that. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m so proud of you,” I say, reaching out an arm that Elliot falls into, hugging me tight.

“Good. So can I have my brother back now?” he asks, turning and walking back toward his apartment as though we haven’t just been blocking the streets of Times Square.

The brother from years ago would have told Elliot everything, and suddenly I want to. Everything back home with Erin is consuming me and I need help to find my way out of it.

“Consider him back,” I say, and I start talking. “So, you won’t believe what happened before I came here. You remember Erin? Obviously you remember Erin. Well...”

By the time Elliot and I make it to the airport, something’s settled between us. Conversations have been laid bare. I feel as though I can be myself around my brother again.

Jordan insists on wheeling my hand luggage to check-in, which means the whole thing takes considerably longer than it should.

Elliot and I pat each other on the back, before I scoop up Jordan, holding him tight.

“Come here, little man,” I say, trying to hug him as he wiggles out of my arms to spin the suitcase again. “Be good for your daddy, okay?”

Elliot bends down and picks up whatever fell out of my pocket in the struggle. It’s the book I picked up for Erin at Barnes & Noble during my trip.

“We’ve seen that film,” he says, placing the copy of On the Road in my hand and crash landing me back to the reality I’ve so successfully avoided.

21

ERIN

There’s still no book in the library, and it’s been over a week. Rather than let that get to me, I’m trying my new and improved What Would Bonnie Do approach, which involves focusing on other things. Making the most of every day.

Georgia calls me as I’m walking to the local shops to put up posters for my English coaching. The weather is so unpredictable. I left the house in a jumper and jeans, and I’m already down to my T-shirt and dreaming of shorts.

“I’ve done it,” she says, breathing out as I scan back through all our conversations for the thing she’s been wanting to do. “I told Rishi.”

I stop outside the McDonald’s on Camberwell Road. “What? And?”

“He proposed.”

“Of course he did. That is classic Rishi.”

“Erin, you had two therapy sessions with him where you claim he didn’t even speak. Stop pretending you know him.”

“Fine. Then it’s classic you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

A bus pulls up beside me, emptying a load of people onto the street. They disperse around me.

“Well, it’s like the time you spent the whole of Easter crying and freaking out about your exams, so Dad put together that whole revision plan for you, and then you got all As, which you were always going to get anyway.”

My mind jumps to Savannah, who’s got her GCSEs soon. She thinks she’s going to do okay, but C-grade okay.

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