Page 15 of Before You Say Goodbye

“He didn’t hit on you, did he? Was he pestering you? He swore that he sat in the front seat of the cab and you sat in the back.”

Bluebell stopped suddenly and stared straight at Autumn.

“But I know he had a girl home last night,” she continued in a foreboding tone. “I heard him ushering her out this morning. It wasn’t you, was it?”

Autumn was quick to reassure her. “No, it wasn’t me. Marley was a perfect gentleman.”

She felt bad for withholding the truth, but guessed it was imperative she play along with whatever Marley had told Bluebell. Bowie must have asked his brother to lie about how she’d gotten home and who she’d gone with, which meant he wasn’t ready for Bluebell to know about them yet. She was relieved to have an excuse to be secretive besides her own cowardice.

“Oh, good!” Bluebell looked relieved. Autumn tried, unsuccessfully, to push rude images of Bluebell’s other brother out of her mind. “I was worried there for a minute. We’re not supposed to sleep with each other’s friends anymore. Marley screwed every one of my school friends when we were younger and it caused no end of drama. And Bowie, actually, though he was a little bit better behaved. Marginally.”

“You’re sleeping with Adam,” Autumn said pointedly.

“Yeah, exactly,” Bluebell said. “We fight about it all the time. They aren’t really friends, they’re just in the same band, but when it’s convenient for Marley he says they’re best mates, so you would be fair game as far as he was concerned. You’re just his type, too.”

In the interest of acting normal, Autumn forced herself to laugh. It took great effort. She checked her phone. Nothing.

“Did you meet Bowie last night?” Bluebell asked. “Mum said he went in the end.”

Autumn nodded.

“He’s lovely, isn’t he?” Bluebell asked.

Autumn agreed. “Quite lovely.”

“He’s one hundred per cent my favourite brother.” Bluebell grinned. “Don’t tell the others.”

Autumn forced herself to smile. To her relief, Bluebell changed the subject.

* * *

Autumn was angrier with herself than she had ever been with anybody else ever. She seethed as she swigged from a bottle of the beer she’d bought for them to share, glaring at the clock on her mantelpiece. It was midnight. It felt much later, but it was still late enough.

Until ten minutes ago, she had been hoping Bowie might still turn up. She’d finally realised he wasn’t coming. Not only that, he hadn’t even bothered to call and tell her he couldn’t make it. She felt pathetic. If he had been any other man she’d have given up hours ago. She’d have gone out in search of someone else to have fun with, or stayed in to catch up on the sleep she’d lost the night before. For Bowie, Autumn had wasted time sitting at home and stewing. It made her exceedingly angry. Not with Bowie, but with herself.

There was nobody to talk to about it. Bluebell, for obvious reasons, couldn’t know, and any friends she had in England — and there weren’t many — would think it was hilarious if she called to ask them for advice about a man. Her friends had learned at an early age that Autumn was drastically less than sympathetic when they discussed concerns of the heart. She had never been able to empathise with people who caught feelings and felt hurt when somebody rejected them. She’d suggest they find someone who wanted them and move on. She’d been so thoroughly unsupportive that they’d stopped coming to her with their romantic woes. She annoyed them. She didn’t understand because she couldn’t, they concluded.It must be so nice to be Autumn, they’d said.How easy it must be to attract and keep a man when you’re so beautiful.Autumn would blush and lie, telling them her prettiness had nothing to do with it.

They had warned her, too. One day it would happen to her, then she would know how they felt. Well, here she was. Admitting to them that a man she barely knew had made her feel this way was not something her pride would ever let her do. She did, however, resolve to be more understanding if they ever came to her to share their heartache again, though she knew they wouldn’t. They hadn’t come to her for sympathy for years. In fact, she hadn’t heard from either of them in quite a while. She wasn’t even sure they were friends anymore.

As her mind ran wild through the witching hour, Autumn realised she was actually embarrassed. She’d told this man he was beautiful. She’d kissed his scar and chased him when he’d tried to leave. She was becoming increasingly suspicious he had taken her to bed to irritate Bluebell. The thought had been torturing her since her friend’s words at lunchtime.

Also, Bluebell had very suddenly abandoned their coffee date. She’d stepped outside to speak to Marley on the telephone and when she’d returned, she’d told Autumn she had to go. She’dbeen shaking and frantic, but was gone before Autumn could ask what was wrong. Autumn had texted her a couple of times since to check if she was all right and hadn’t had a response.

Oh, God!

Bluebell definitely knew. Autumn could think of no other reason her friend would ignore her messages. The twins must have told her.

Autumn gave in to her tears. She’d lost the only friend who understood her. The only woman who’d ever treated her like a sister instead of competition. Unlike the friends Autumn had somehow acquired in childhood, Bluebell had never made her feel like she had to tone herself down. In fact, Bluebell encouraged her to be her very best self. She was a staunch advocate of women supporting women. Autumn had known and loved that about her since the day they had met.

“Why do men expect us to pretend we don’t know we’re beautiful?” she’d asked Autumn that very morning. Autumn had laughed, not sure what to say. “You’re watching a movie and the leading lady is beautiful. I mean, jaw-droppingly stunning. Incredible to levels that are completely unattainable by most mere mortal women. Then they get her on camera and ask her to play a woman who everyone else in the world can clearly see is perfect, but she’s not supposed to know it herself. It’s such a hackneyed narrative in movies and songs. Everyone wants a beautiful girl who doesn’t know she’s beautiful. It’s all about insecurity. Men don’t want their beautiful woman to know that she’s beautiful because then she might leave. It’s fucking bullshit. If someone tells me they think I’m beautiful, I tell them that I think so too. You’d be surprised by how many men that enrages. Oh, I could go on about this for ages.”

Autumn was sure she would have if she hadn’t had to rush off. Now, Autumn might never get to listen to Bluebell verbalise the way she herself thought and felt ever again.

She sighed, tired of herself. This was exactly why she never let people in. It was too much hard work, too much heartbreak. She’d grown attached to these two people in an exceedingly short space of time and they had hurt her. She shook her head and scolded herself, trying to remind herself she was fine before and would be fine again.

“Stop it. You loser.”

She forced herself to go to bed.

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