Page 5 of Before You Say Goodbye

“Do you believe in fate?” she asked. Autumn stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She wanted to give Bluebell the benefit of the doubt, something she did not award to many. Autumn supposed it was easy to assume life had been designed for you when it had always been perfect, so she shoved aside her annoyance at the question to answer.

“I don’t think so. Do you?”

“Absolutely.” Bluebell nodded. “And I listen when it sends me a message. Something told me I should talk to you. I had a feeling, right here in the pit of my stomach. Don’t you ever get that?”

“No. But I spend most of my time trying to shut myself up.” Autumn was an introverted overthinker. If she paid any attention to her head she’d never get anything done. She wouldn’t have written her book or published it online. She wouldn’t be here in this busy city by herself.

“That’s no good. You should listen to your gut. If I hadn’t listened to mine when it told me to talk to you, we wouldn’t be here.”

Fortunate coincidence.Autumn internally explained their chance meeting away.

They stopped beside her apartment building. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.

“Do you want to come up?” she asked.

“Sure, I’ll come up. Do you have wine?”

“Always.”

Giddy from more than enough merlot, they giggled their way towards Autumn’s top-floor apartment. The lift, which only went part way up the building anyway, was broken today and they had thirteen floors to climb. Luckily, they were not short of conversation. Bluebell raved through hiccups and howls about things that were ‘meant to be’. They weresupposedto meet today ? she was quite certain. The reason would become clear in due course. Despite Autumn’s dramatic groans and comical eye-rolls, Bluebell paused on the sixth floor and turned. She stared straight into Autumn’s face.

“Can’t you feel it?” she asked in earnest. Her expression was deeply serious. Autumn let her cheeks fill with air, then guffawed. “Don’t laugh!” Bluebell scolded her, hitting her playfully. They turned to continue their ascent.

“Sorry,” Autumn said. “But it’s all bollocks.”

Bluebell ignored her. “The universe is sending you signs. I really believe that. Pay attention, Autumn. Listen to that feeling you get in your chest. You know the one I mean. We all have it. It tells us when someone is dodgy. It lets us know all isn’t as it seems. Let it guide you. Why don’t we climb quietly for a bit and focus really hard on it?”

They tumbled into silence. Autumn resolved not to speak until they reached her apartment. Even in her drunken haze, she knew letting Bluebell think she’d won was the easiest way to get her to shut up about what was essentially magic. They climbed quietly for a minute or so.

“My gut is telling me you’re not actually doing it.” Bluebell smirked.

Autumn sighed. Well, why not? What was the worst that could happen? It was all hocus-pocus, anyway. Mumbo-jumbo. The climb was long and boring. Slightly fatigued — and looking for a distraction from the dull ache in her legs — Autumn tooka deep breath and asked her inner self, a little irritably, how she felt.

She was surprised. There was something there. A little glow. A feeling of safety. And, buried deep somewhere in a place she hadn’t known existed, the dim knowledge that she’d never be lonely ever again.

Chapter 2

Eight weeks into their glorious friendship, Autumn answered the door to find Bluebell on her knees, her hands clasped dramatically before her.

“My mum is in New York and she’s making me go to a concert tonight to watch my brother because nobody else from the family can go. I know you have that big meeting with your publisher tomorrow and you said we can’t hang out, but please come. There’ll be boys. And booze. Please come. Please. They’re really good, but it’s no fun when I’m alone there. Nobody wants to play with me because I’m Marley’s sister.”

Autumn had once promised herself she would stop doing things she didn’t want to do for the benefit of other people, but she couldn’t say no to Bluebell. Her new friend knew it, too. She sighed. She was bored anyway, she reasoned. A little break from writing might do her good. And she’d yet to meet any of Bluebell’s family, a group of people she knew more about than she did her own relatives. So she agreed to go, but with stark warning.

“No boys. And no drinking. And no after-parties. And no drugs.”

“Yes, yes, I get it, no fun. Please come.”

In less than five minutes, she’d thrown on a flowery tea dress and a pair of matte black heels, a smidge of lipstick and some smoky eye make-up. All the while, Bluebell chatted about her brother.

“You’ll like Marley — he’s really confident and funny. He and Bowie are total opposites. Bowie’s so sensible and quiet. He’s really contemplative and careful. Marley is a party animal. He’s even worse than I am. I can’t believe we’ve been friends all this time and you haven’t met him yet.”

“We’ve only been friends for two months.”

“Fuck me, is that all it’s been. I feel like I’ve known you for ever.”

Autumn felt the same. Hardly a day had gone by since they’d met when they hadn’t seen each other or spoken in some capacity, either over the telephone or via text message. Autumn had quickly come to rely on Bluebell for comfort and entertainment. She was undoubtedly her very best friend. Autumn felt like nobody knew her better. She’d told Bluebell all about her university days, and how disappointed she’d felt when she’d realised higher education was not bursting with people who wanted to discuss politics and human rights, but largely kids who’d just wanted to escape home. At least, that was the case for the peers she had met. She’d elaborated further on how disconnected she felt from her family and the way they wanted to live. She’d told this woman all about her insecurities and how they sometimes made her feel strange. In return, Bluebell entertained Autumn with tales from her childhood, of everyday life with her quirky, loving parents, sister, and three brothers, throwing in the odd story about her time at college, where she’d studied musical theatre, not because she’d had any desire to act, but because her circumstances had meant there was no immediate pressure to work. Drama had been her favourite subject at school and she’d thought it would be fun.

She’d told Autumn all about the interesting friendships she’d forged and then lost through the years, not because she was a bad mate, but because she was quick to lose interest. Bluebell loved to talk and she was good at it. She could start a conversation about absolutely anything at all, which meant being in public with her was often an adventure. Wherever they went, Bluebell would find someone to talk to about something, effortlessly charming the object of her attention until they were as shamelessly hooked on her as Autumn was. That was always as far as it went, though. Bluebell was choosy about who shelet in her life and Autumn felt incredibly lucky their initial conversation had progressed into full-blown friendship.

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