Page 62 of Before You Say Goodbye

“Many of the things you say are a waste of your breath, my darling girl.”

Bluebell ignored her, calling out to check on her sister, instead.

“Maddie, how are you doing in there?”

Maddie had been so quiet Autumn had almost forgotten she was there, but, then, suddenly, there she was, standing awkwardly before them, dazzling them in the bright yellow dress she had seemed so sure would not suit her. Her shoulders were hunched and her hands were positioned awkwardly in front of her chest but, nonetheless, she was breathtakingly well-suited to the gown she was wearing. Bluebell stood up. She and Autumn stared at her together.

Maddie frowned. “Don’t be weird. We’re not those girls. Let’s not pretend we are.”

“Oh my God,” Bluebell said.

“Have you seen yourself?” Autumn blinked wildly at her, reaching to pull her out of the cubicle and positioning her in front of the full-length mirror. Bluebell stood at the other side of her. “You look amazing.”

“I can already see our Instagram selfies taking shape.” Bluebell pouted ridiculously, posing for an invisible camera. Autumn followed suit and the two of them burst out laughing. Maddie tried to hide her amusement.

“I’m so glad there are two of you now.” She rolled her eyes.

“Maddie, just look at yourself,” Bluebell said. Maddie was still avoiding her reflection.

“I’ve seen myself already,” Maddie said. “I think I look OK.”

They groaned. If Maddie couldn’t see how incredible she looked inthisdress there was no hope for her. Autumn didn’t say that, though. Truthfully, she was still a little wary of Bowie’s youngest sister. Despite her insecurities about her appearance, Maddie was a strong character and was unafraid to call anyoneout for the entitled and unreasonable behaviour they were all guilty of at times. She’d even snapped at Bowie on a couple of occasions. She could silence Autumn’s whining with a severe warning glance from across a room. Still, Autumn loved her. She would have willingly shared some of her own self-confidence with her if she could.

“You’re everything I hate,” Bluebell said.

Maddie shook her head. “I’m not fishing. I genuinely think I just look OK.”

Autumn sighed sadly, wrapping her arms around her friend’s shoulders. “Well, that’s a shame, sis, because you look like a snack.”

Bluebell guffawed, clutching her hand to her mouth. When she removed it, her expression had become oddly serious. Suddenly, she lunged — quite desperately — to hug her sister from behind. Maddie gasped, grabbing Bluebell’s forearms to steady herself. Before she knew what she was doing, Autumn had thrown her arms around them both. Although she protested at first, Maddie leaned into them eventually, and, when she did, Autumn felt Bluebell trembling. She tightened her arms around them further, and felt like she might cry. She didn’t want to, but the only way to stop herself from sobbing would be to let go of the women she was holding, and she couldn’t bear to do that either. She felt like they were holding each other together. Like they were clinging on to normality the way Bowie was holding desperately on to life, and they could no longer manage unless they literally pushed each other’s broken bits back together. She couldn’t say for sure how the other two women were feeling, but that was how she felt. She was sure there were variations of the same sentiment running through the minds of her friends. Maddie was half right — they may not have been gushy, overly sentimental women, but it still felt good to embrace one another,all three of them, in a way they’d never done before. They stood there — a circle of supportive sisterhood.

Autumn didn’t hear Emma step out of her cubicle, but she was suddenly there. She was gentle but purposeful as she approached them without a word, eager to foster the moment they were having. Perhaps that had been her intention all along. She was wearing the green dress.

They pulled her into their group hug and stood in comfortable silence together for what felt like an age.

Autumn let herself cry when she realised that the women surrounding her already were.

* * *

“Bowie and Marley are doing my fucking head in,” Bluebell said later that afternoon. They’d bought their dresses — Emma had purchased the green one they’d all known she would choose — and she’d taken them for lunch as promised. They’d decided to drink wine instead of beer and had been sinking glass after glass for over an hour, perched around a tall, circular table in a restaurant they knew served great vegan burgers. Nobody had ordered food, nor had they talked about their hug, which had ended when a teenaged girl had appeared in the fitting room. They’d broken apart with sad smiles, collecting their things and leaving without a word to one another. They’d been in Cassie’s American Diner — Bluebell’s recommendation — ever since. So far, Ben and Bowie had both called Emma more than once to ask when they were coming home. She’d told them both rather curtly that the women were having fun without them and would probably be back much later. She’d asked that they respectfully leave them to their ‘girl time’ unless there was an absolute emergency. They could entertain themselves for an afternoon, she’d insisted.

Autumn was surprised it had taken so long for the twins to come up in the conversation. So far, they’d spent most of their time talking about how frustrating it was trying to get Bowie to eat anything and how wonderful Autumn thought it was that Ben was so affectionate with his children. Two evenings before, he’d offered to spend the night with Bowie, who’d been struggling with exceptionally uncomfortable neck pain for the third night in a row. He’d sent Autumn upstairs to Bluebell’s room to get some sleep. In the morning, she’d found Ben laying on his back on the sofa, cradling Bowie who’d slept peacefully on his chest. He’d told her, in a whisper, that it was the only position his son had been able to find comfort in. Autumn had almost burst into tears. She’d never seen a father hold a son of Bowie’s age so tenderly.

There had been so many beautiful moments, but that didn’t mean living together didn’t come with its issues. Bowie and Marley were also doing Autumn’s head in, but she didn’t feel like it was her place to express her frustration to their mother. She was glad Bluebell had done it, instead.

“I know they’re annoying, my darling.” Emma reached across the table now to stroke Bluebell’s cheek. “You just have to try to ignore them.”

“How can I ignore them? They’re there, doing my fucking head in, all the time.”

The Whittles loved each other deeply, but they were not used to spending quite so much time together. When they’d first returned to the UK, everyone had come and gone as usual, but the sicker Bowie became, the less they socialised with anyone except each other. It was so intense that Autumn and Bowie now had to ask for time alone when they wanted it. She hadn’t told anybody that they couldn’t have sex anymore, not even Bluebell, and neither had he, so their request for time to themselves usually came with a certain amount of teasing.Far from being embarrassed enough to correct them, Autumn was happy to let the family continue to believe that they were still sexually active because it stopped them bursting into the bedroom unannounced whenever they felt like it, meaning that Autumn and Bowie could spend time talking and hugging and sleeping without interruption. Sometimes she read him poems or short stories aloud, or they watched a movie together. For a while he’d helped her to satisfy her own desires but, in the end, they’d come to the conclusion that it was too frustrating for them both. Although Bowie could not perform, he still had a sexual appetite, and her writhing around in front of him felt unfair. She made love to herself most mornings in the shower now instead.

Marley wasn’t having sex either. He had stopped inviting women back to the house and never really went out anymore. There was still a stream of women’s names clogging up his social media pages and bombarding his mobile phone with messages, but he’d quite suddenly lost all interest in any of their attention, spending all of his time with his family instead. Although Autumn continued to enjoy having him around, she hadn’t realised quite how overwhelming he and Bowie could be to live with until she’d seen what they could be like when they were together all the time. When tensions ran high in the house, which they often did now with so many strong characters around, they tended to make it worse. Marley could be incredibly argumentative and Bowie would defend him beyond all reason, even when he was in the wrong. When Bowie’s family challenged him about how much he’d eaten or if he’d taken his painkillers or whether he was well enough to be out of bed, Autumn would watch him actively seek Marley’s support. The raised voice of one twin was like a distress signal to the other and winning an argument with them became impossible. They were extremely intelligent, quick-witted and relentlessly combative, and would take on anyone or anything together.

Bluebell struggled with them the most because she and Marley disagreed a lot, and he knew that Bluebell found arguing with Bowie distressing. He would call on his brother to add weight to his argument when he wanted to have the last word. He was shameless about doing it, too. Bluebell had privately begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t. The twins continued to present a united front, calling Bluebell out every time she and Marley were at odds. Their poor sister was so terrified that any disagreement she had with Bowie might be their last conversation that she would give in and agree with his point of view. Autumn felt sorry for her. It must be so frustrating. She pouted in empathy with her friend and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“And Pip,” Maddie said, resting her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. Her cheeks were flushed red from the wine they had been drinking and there was a ruby tinge to her lips. “When did he turn into a world-class binge-drinking sass-machine?”

Pip had always been spoiled by everyone. Now, it seemed he absolutely had to have his own way at all times. Pip was the only one who could get Bowie and Marley to do whatever he wanted, and with the weight of the twins behind him he was invincible. Autumn would go as far as to say that he was running the entire household with his tantrums. When he wasn’t spending time with Bowie, he spent most of his days arguing for LGBTQ rights on social media sites and ranting relentlessly to his family. He was a whole lot of passion, but Autumn appreciated hearing Pip’s perspective nonetheless. She’d had no idea of the issues gay people continued to face. She was ashamed to admit she’d thought that things were getting much better for the LGBTQ community. Pip was always quick to enlighten her.

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