Page 98 of We Used To Be Magic

I don’t know where her grave is.

The realisation rattles me, and I stop by a streetlight and fumble in my pocket to turn my phone back on. I call Caroline’s number without looking at any of her messages – she picks up after the first ring.

‘Ezra?’

‘Hey,’ I say, clearing my throat. ‘How are you?’

‘Worried, Ezra. You’ve beenAWOLfor days. What the fuck is going on?’

‘Not much. Uh – weird question, but where’s Mum?’

‘What?’

‘I mean – where’s her grave? Which cemetery?’

She’s silent for a moment. I can hear Romy in the background, whispering. I’m probably on speakerphone.

‘Where are you, Ezra?’ Caroline finally asks.

‘Just walking. I thought I might take some flowers.’

‘That’s a really nice idea. Come over. You can stay the night and we can both go tomorrow morning.’

There’s a lilt of unease in her voice. It occurs to me then then that I might be drunker than I realised.

‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Just tell me which one.’

‘It’s late, Ezra. It can wait.’

‘Obviously. I know she’s not going anywhere.’ I laugh, but it’s a flat, awful sound and an awful thing to say. I’m on the verge of an apology when a sob escapes my throat instead, and then I’m crying, and laughing because I can’t believe that I’m actually fucking crying, but the laughter just sounds like more crying. It’s humiliating, and I keep trying to pull in enough air to tell Caroline that I’m sorry but the breaths are too small, too shallow – I lower the phone, sink back down towards the kerb and put my head between my knees, trying desperately to calm the fuck down.

But it’s not working.

It’s not working, because this is never going to get better. I’ve pretended otherwise for so long but the hole she left is going to keep getting bigger, and bigger, and eventually it’s going to swallow me whole. I know it. I’ve always known it, from that first night when we were waiting for the phone to ring, except the doorbell rang instead, and Dad stood up—

I can hear Caroline’s voice coming from the phone. She’s not on speakerphone, which means she must be shouting – I raise it back to my ear with a trembling hand.

‘I’m sorry,’ I manage. ‘I—’

‘Where are you, Ezra? Tell me where you are.’

‘I’m not – I’m at the house.’

‘Whose house? Tell me the address.’

She sounds so scared. I know why, and it absolutely kills me.

‘I’m fine,’ I tell her. ‘You don’t have to – I’m not—’

‘Don’t what, Ezra? You’re not making any sense.’

‘Don’t act like I’d do something, because I wouldn’t,’ I say in a rush, voice hoarse. ‘I wouldn’t. Even though I’m – I’m so fuckingbadat this. And she was good. She was sogood…’

Another sob escapes my throat then – I feel my face crumple and hide it with my hand, chest hitching. Shit.

‘Come home,’ Caroline says, her voice breaking – she’s crying too, I realise dimly. ‘Just get in a cab and come home. Please?’

‘I’m – I don’t know where that is any more,’ I tell her. ‘I don’t think there is one.’

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