Page 92 of Before You Say Goodbye

“I know that now,” Autumn said.

“It’s been really helping Ben and I to look at things,” Emma said. “To focus on the things we did have and do have, instead of the things we don’t.”

“I’ll get some help. And I’ll make sure Marley does too.”

“Did he say anything about coming home?” Emma asked hopefully.

“No,” Autumn said. “Just that he couldn’t stand being in the house any longer.”

She knew that it would hurt Emma to hear it, but thought it best not to lie to her about his frame of mind.

“Maybe we should come back out there?” Emma wondered this aloud. “Although I don’t know if I can bear to leave Bowie just yet, in all honesty.”

They’d been given permission to bury Bowie’s body in their garden. Autumn hadn’t even known such things were possible, but, apparently, they were if you had the right permissions. It had seemed like a lovely idea at the time, sweet and sentimental, but the temptation to sit beside his headstone when they missed him was overwhelming, and Autumn was quite sure that feeling that he was so close by would not be of help to any of them in trying to move forward.

“Bowie’s gone,” Autumn said softly. Emma inhaled sharply. “Marley needs you now.”

She had listened to Emma lecture her on the importance of appreciating the difference between what you had and what had gone, and she knew Emma would never forgive herself if Marleyhurt himself while she sat by the headstone of the son who was already lost to her.

“Yes,” Emma whispered. “You’re right. Of course, Autumn, love, you’re right.”

Autumn reached the till, her hands full of avocados, tomatoes and seeded loaves.

“Hang on a minute,” she muttered to Emma. “How much is that?”

“That’ll be fourteen dollars and thirty-six cents.”

“Autumn, where are you?” Emma asked, suddenly anxious.

“Buying breakfast.” Autumn smiled enthusiastically at the cashier, handing her a twenty-dollar bill and hoping that the young lady serving her would forgive her for continuing her conversation. She wasn’t normally so rude, but this was important.

“Did you leave Marley on his own?” Emma asked. Something in her tone made Autumn spin on her heel.

“Yes,” she said. “Why?”

Somebody behind Emma was shrieking hysterically. Autumn was fairly certain it was Bluebell.

“Emma?” she shouted into the telephone. She was suddenly afraid.

Emma gasped. “Autumn, run! Go home now, and run.”

* * *

Autumn howled for help, taking the stairs two at a time, as a stream of concerned strangers followed her up to the very top floor of her building.

“My friend has hurt himself,” she shouted. “Please help me.”

At least, that’s what she feared. As she’d sprinted from the supermarket, Emma was screeching something about a sorrowful text message Marley had just sent to Bluebell, and begging her desperately to run faster. Autumn hadn’t heardmuch. She’d taken her phone away from her ear and focused everything she had on reaching him as quickly as she could, quite sure that Emma was still waiting on the end of the line.

He’d used the deadbolt inside to stop her from opening the door. She threw herself at it in desperation. It didn’t move at all.

“Marley!” She screamed his name as she kicked the door. Fuelled by her love for this man and the terror she felt at losing him, she had beaten everybody to the top floor by quite a way, but others were joining her now. A stout man reached her first, pulling her back by her arms.

“Move right away,” he said. He threw himself forward and, although the door shook, it did not open.

“Call an ambulance.” Autumn shouted at the top of her voice. Walter, who had been watching from the door of his apartment, stepped out into the hallway.

“You’ll never break it down if it’s deadbolted,” he said. “It’s reinforced steel.”

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