Page 92 of The Life Experiment
‘I don’t think you do, Angus. Do you have any idea what she is going through?’
Rubbing his forehead, Angus tried to wipe the stress away, but it clung on. ‘I’ll be there next time.’
‘Next time isn’t good enough. You should have been there today. She was waiting for you while you were out doing God knows what with God knows who.’
‘I’ve said I’m sorry. It’s… I’m going through something right now.’
‘And your mother isn’t?’ The question hung in the air, spiked with a truth Angus couldn’t deny. ‘She needs you.Ineed you. Not this drunken husk of a person standing before me. I need the man who came to us with an idea that could help people.’
Pushing himself upright, Angus lifted his head and glared at Peter. ‘But that’s not who I am, is it? I’m the other guy. Drunk Angus. Off-his-face Angus. Fucked-up Angus. That’s all I’ll ever be.’
Snarling the hateful words made Angus feel even sicker. Reaching for his water, Angus went to swill the acrid taste away, but Peter stepped into the kitchen and knocked the glass out of his hand.
As it clattered to the floor and smashed, Angus’s jaw dropped.
‘What?’ Peter snapped. ‘Do you want me to pander to you because you’ve had too much to drink again? Well, I refuse. You’ve made some bad choices in life, Angus, I get it, but so what? You’re not the only one. Do you know what I do when I’m sat in hospital with your mother? I hold her hand and tell her stupid stories, but all the while I sit there thinking of the times I could have been a better husband. Worked less. Listened more. Removed the pressure of this life. I burn with regret for my mistakes, but guess what? I don’t let it stop me from waking up every day and trying to be better. And right now, I’m trying harder than ever because that’s what your mother needs. She needs me by her side, and she needs you there too.’
‘I… I can’t see her like that,’ Angus croaked. ‘It kills me.’
‘Don’t you think it kills me too? But this isn’t about me or you, it’s about your mother. It’s about the ways you can distract her fromher pain. Make her laugh. Be there for her in the ways she would be for you, if you were the one in that hospital bed.’
As Angus’s shoulders caved, a memory came to mind. One he hadn’t thought of in years.
Aged twelve and battling glandular fever, Angus had been sent home from boarding school. Already distanced from his parents after losing Hugo, Angus assumed he’d be left alone to recover, but Gilly insisted on Angus sleeping in the master bedroom with her so she could keep an eye on him. Peter had been banished to a spare room. Every feverish dream Angus woke from, his mother was there. Gilly might not have fussed over him or doled out hugs, but she was there, quietly beside Angus when he needed her.
Lifting his head, Angus faced his father. ‘I haven’t been a very good son, have I?’
‘No,’ Peter replied. Bluntly, brutally.
Honestly.
‘I’m sorry,’ Angus said. ‘I’m going to do better. I promise this won’t happen again.’
Angus resolved that it was a promise he would keep. No more excuses, no more hiding, and definitely no more lies.
43Layla
It seemed to Layla that London had never been busier. The assault on her senses was rough as she followed Michelle out of Mayweather & Halliwell’s Westminster office. Drunken cheers rang out from pubs, Friday night mayhem taking over every establishment along the street.
‘Watch it,’ a tipsy man leered as he knocked into Layla. Or maybe she knocked into him, she was too overwhelmed to tell.
When Layla stumbled, Michelle grabbed her arm. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We’ll be late for dinner if you keep dawdling.’
Layla allowed Michelle to drag her along, grateful to have someone lead the way. Moments later, a venue lit by fairy lights came into view ahead. The women crossed the road, weaving through queues of traffic with reckless abandon. As they ducked under a sprig of mistletoe pinned above the restaurant door, the scent of oregano infiltrated Layla’s lungs. Remembering her first dinner with Angus, Layla’s heart twinged.
Brushing aside her sadness, Layla moved through the bustling venue towards a long table where Sinead, Rashida and a few others from their team were waiting.
It was Michelle’s idea to set up a ‘Women in Law’ dinner to celebrate the end of the year. When it was first suggested, Layla had been excited at the prospect of an evening with her colleagues. But back then, Layla’s heart hadn’t been broken.
Greeting her colleagues, Layla forced a smile that was becoming harder to fake. Taking a seat beside Nidhi, a junior lawyer in their division, and Priscilla from the accounts team, she pushed herself into the conversation.
‘Michelle’s outdone herself tonight,’ Layla commented.
‘Hasn’t she?’ Priscilla said, pouring Layla a glass of red wine. ‘I can’t remember ever getting together like this. Isn’t it exciting?’
‘So exciting,’ Layla replied, somewhat flatly.
Layla couldn’t understand it. A social outing with the people who made work bearable should have brought her to life, but as Rashida began recounting a client’s recent cutting feedback, all Layla could think was,Does any of this really matter?
