Page 33 of When We Were Young

‘Teenagers need boundaries.’

‘She’ll be off to university in a couple of years,’ he said, sensing victory. ‘You need to start letting go. You need to live your own life.’

I haul myself out of bed, head pounding, and get in the shower. When I’m done, I turn the water to cold and let the icy stream cool my head.

Jesus, I hope he can behave himself in his bachelor pad while Liv’s there. And the exams, he’s got to make sure she’s revising, eating properly, and getting enough sleep. I catch myself. Am I being overprotective and controlling? The cold water is hurting, so I turn off the shower and get out.

Wrapped in a towel, shivering, I realise what Scott was trying to tell me.

Get a life, Emily.

Before I head downstairs, I hesitate on the landing. Something draws me to the staircase up to Liv’s room. Her room is unusually neat; things must be missing, but I’m not sure what – it doesn’t look empty, just strange. Tears well up and threaten to spill over. A flash of yellow catches my eye on her desk. The moment I recognise the CD, my chest tightens. I shouldn’t be surprised; I knew she was listening to Will’s music. But why buy a CD when she has nothing to play it on? She left it here on purpose, to tell me she knows. I pick it up for a closer look. I’m torn between affection and hatred for itand drop it to the desk with a clatter. Maybe she didn’t see my name in the small print. Nobody reads the small print.

Downstairs, everything is tidy. No cereal box left on the side, no Rice Krispies littered across the counter, no schoolbooks on the kitchen table. Just my phone. I usually charge it by my bedside. I must have forgotten last night. The screen shows an unread message.

FHD:Great – can’t wait.

What’s this?

I click on it and scroll back through the short message history. The first one is ‘Whenever you’re ready’. Florence Harding’s dad. I must have saved him as ‘FHD’ in my contacts last night.

Oh shit.

I messaged him after midnight. Drunk.

Me:Do you, by any chance, have a nickname? Perhaps your friends call you Liam or Bill? Maybe your mum calls you William?

Oh my God.

His reply a minute later:You don’t want to know what school kids do with a surname like Harding.

Then: I’m only William when I’m in trouble. Why?

Me:Long story… Are you free Friday night for a drink (alcohol, not coffee)?

FHD:I would love to but I’m away for the Easter hols (taking Flo to my parents in Devon). Can do Friday the week after, though. How about Hemingways, 8pm?

Me:It’s in the diary. Looking forward to it.

Suddenly the word‘online’appears at the top of the screen, then morphs into the word‘typing…’

Shit. He’s messaging me right now.

FHD:BTW you can call me anything ;)

Chapter 18

April 2016

Liv

I pull out my earphones before pushing through the revolving doors. A huge glass atrium rises above me with several walkways crisscrossing the space. I may have said ‘woah’ out loud. The wall behind the long reception desk is one huge screen playing a video of what looks like the inside of a lava lamp. When no one’s looking, I take a picture and send it to Chloe. The reception desk is manned by a team of female clones dressed like cabin crew. I tell the nearest one I’m here to see Dad’s friend Tom.

Her long fingernails clack on the phone keypad. ‘I’ve got Olivia Lawrence in reception for you.’ Then to me: ‘Please take a seat. He’s sending someone down.’

My phone buzzes while I’m waiting. Chloe has sent a picture of her dad’s office. It’s the opposite of this place, all wood panelling and leather-bound books.

Chloe:I’m soooooo booooooooored!