Page 35 of The Life Experiment
Sadness covered Peter’s face. ‘I won’t say a word, but you should think twice about that. Your mother is a better person than you give her credit for.’
Silenced, Angus watched his father amble away, a strange sense of guilt overcoming him. He didn’t like the way it sat on his chest. Reaching for his phone to distract himself, Angus’s eyes widened when he saw that Layla had replied.
Angus, I would love to go to dinner with you, but I need to be honest – it would be a ‘friends’ thing. There’s a lot going on in my life right now. I don’t have the capacity for anything more.
I love talking to you and don’t want to stop, but I also don’t know if you are hoping for more…
All I can offer at this time is to be friends. If that works for you, then YES to dinner. If not, I understand x
It took Angus three reads of the message to fully digest what it said.
It took five seconds for him to find air after that.
The pain that hummed through Angus felt like it was alive, tearing chunks from him with its sharp, pointed teeth.
But there was something accompanying the pain that Angus didn’t expect – understanding.
The day he met Layla, it was clear she was going through something. In all their interactions since, Angus had felt the undertones of sadness. Just two days ago, Layla described her day as ‘heavy’. Angus wanted nothing more than to lighten that load, but Layla was guarded about the cause.
Angus knew that Layla didn’t need any added pressure. She needed a friend. And, if that was the only way he could be in her life, then Angus would be the greatest friend Layla ever had.
Besides, she said ‘at this time’, his brain pointed out.That doesn’t mean never.
A small smile lifted his mouth. Angus could wait. He had all the time in the world. Almost another sixty years, in fact. If that was how long it took Layla to deal with whatever she was going through, he would wait. Then maybe, if he was lucky, some of those years could be spent with her.
I understand, say no more. When you’re back in London, we’ll make plans x
As a yawn escaped Angus, he dropped his phone on the sofa. It was time for bed.
Dragging his lethargic body out of the living room, Angus began the ascent to his childhood bedroom where Ms Tillman had laid fresh bedding for his arrival. His shoulders relaxed as his mind wandered to thoughts of the bed that awaited him, and the dreams that would accompany it.
17Layla
Icy wind slapped Layla’s cheeks as she walked with Joanna towards the bypass that led to the estate they called home. She had been in Hull for a little over a week, but it felt like the temperature had dropped by at least ten degrees in that time. Winter was well and truly coming.
Usually, winter meant going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark. It meant months of daydreaming about sunshine and brighter days. But with Angus in her life, winter didn’t seem as dull as it once had. Especially considering what could happen if –when, Layla’s brain snapped – she returned to London. The run-up to Christmas was the most magical time in the capital. That’s what tourists were told, anyway. Layla was usually too busy to participate in the frosty revelry, but this year, she hoped for something different. And, judging by their recent exchanges, it sounded like Angus was determined to make those wishes a reality.
Just wait, Cannon – dinner is only the start of our festive plans. I’m picturing roaring fires, toasted marshmallows and of course, mulled wine x
Layla had almost squealed reading that. Her mind filled with visions of cosy, intimate dates. Only as friends, of course.
‘Come on,’ Joanna said suddenly, picking up her pace. ‘We can get home and out of this cold faster if we hurry.’
Layla copied her mum, moving so fast her arms swung with determination. The walk back from the neonatal unit of the local hospital wasn’t far. Thirty-five minutes, if that. However, the pink tip of Layla’s nose indicated that thirty-five minutes of walking on a freezing day was not exactly comfortable.
Joanna had refused to get the bus, though. ‘The exercise will be good,’ she insisted.
Although Layla suspected her mum’s personal motivation for the walk was to punish herself for eating pasta last night, she hadn’t argued. The only reason Layla was out of bed was because of Joanna.
Since Layla had arrived in Hull ten days ago, Joanna had filled her time with odd jobs. A skirting board that needed painting, a grocery shop she could not complete alone. And earlier, when Joanna announced that she was dropping off another batch of knitting to the neonatal unit, she’d asked Layla to tag along.
Layla knew it was all a ploy to get her outside and moving, but she didn’t mind. Fresh air sounded appealing, as did seeing the place Joanna visited every month to drop off the fruits of her labour.
Joanna had been knitting items for premature babies for the last nine years. The project started when Layla was at university, Maya was in her partying phase, and David was working through a new physio regime. Layla had never questioned her mother’s sudden love of knitting. In fact, she’d almost forgotten it was something Joanna did until she saw her making a tiny yellow hat while watching TV.
But as Layla watched Joanna being greeted like a hero by the staff at the hospital, she’d felt a surge of pride for her mother. She had seen an opportunity to make a difference and learned a new skill to do it. In a world where it often felt like people were more self-serving than ever, Joanna was bucking the trend. Her way of helping might not be huge, but it definitely wasn’t small.
‘Why do you do it?’ Layla asked when they approached a set of traffic lights near a busy intersection.
