Page 101 of You Had Me At Thirteen

Carla kneels beside me, rubbing her hand up and down my arm. ‘Wren, it’s okay. Just take a deep breath.’

‘Don’t you dare touch me.’ My voice is hoarse, unrecognisable as my anger seeps through my pores.

My cousin holds her hands up in front of her body while my eyes shoot daggers at her.

Mum continues, simultaneously wiping her cheeks as she speaks. ‘I didn’t want you hating him, so I kept it all to myself. We tried to start over by moving here, and things were good for a while, don’t you remember?’

Sure, Dad tried for about six months. But when I saytry, I mean being less of a dick than he was before. Buying your son ice cream twice doesn’t make up for all the years of not giving a shit.

‘I can’t believe you,’ I say. ‘You kept that piece of shit in our lives for what? So that we could play happy families and pretend that we aren’t just as fucked up as everyone else?’

‘Wren, please. It’s not like that. I loved your father, and I wanted to try, but sometimes love isn’t enough. We grew apart, so twelve months ago we called it. He was working away a lot, so it made sense that after you graduated, he would find his own place. Then I got sick…’ She trails off and takes a couple of deep shaky breaths to calm herself.

I can’t even look at her. How stupid am I for not seeing what was going on? I knew their relationship was bullshit, but what hurts me the most is the lies. I’m not some child who needs to be spared his feelings. If anything, I would have preferred my dad left. At least I wouldn’t have had to deal with him for this long. This just makes everything worse.

And what does Mum mean,sometimes love just isn’t enough? Am I destined to end up just like my mum and dad?

Mum reaches for me again. ‘Wren, please talk to me.’

I swipe at the tears falling down my cheeks as I shove out of my chair and head towards the door. ‘I need to go.’

Carla rushes over and grabs my arm. ‘Wren, please. Don’t do this.’

I stare at the door, not able to bring myself to look at either of them. ‘Don’t. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m not the one who’s been lying for the last twelve months.’

‘I promised your mum…’

‘So I’m just the last to know? You’re unbelievable. Both of you.’ I’m out the door before Carla opens her mouth again.

For the first time, there’s someone I want to run to, to spill everything to. Instead, I head for my car and speed out of town.

FORTY-FOUR

Matilda

* * *

Aknock at my door has me squinting out of one eye at the alarm clock on my bedside table. My room is still dark, so I know it’s either early or raining outside. The clock tells me it’s 5 am.

I rub my hands over my face. ‘Come in.’

Mum opens the door, stepping into the doorway, the hallway light illuminating her slight frame. The look on her face has me pushing myself into a sitting position.

‘Mum? What’s wrong?’

‘Sweetheart, it’s Deb.’

My hands fly to my mouth. ‘Is she…?’ I swallow the next words, unable to send them out into the universe.

‘No,’ she says, walking over to my bed. ‘But she’s not well. The ambulance brought her in last night about midnight. I just got home.’ Mum lowers herself onto the bed next to me and stares at the wall.

This last week has been surreal, with Wren in a better mood since Carla arrived. I guess having her here takes some of the pressure off him. I know he stays up late, though. I’ve watched him at his desk, the lamplight glowing against his face as he reads over those damn textbooks.

Now I’m not sure what he’ll be like. Angry again. And he has every right to be. That’s his mum. He has to sit there and watch as cancer eats her alive. Just staring at my own mum, I can’t imagine what that would feel like.

‘How’s Wren?’ I rub the centre of my chest, trying to ease the constriction of my lungs.

She squeezes my hand. ‘I don’t know. He wasn’t there.’

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