Page 45 of Carbon

“You’re in all of them.”

My dreams turned into a nightmare two weeks later, when Ben came to school looking terrified. He’d gone chalk-white, and when I squeezed his hand, it shook.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mum says we’re leaving. Dad’s got a new job, and we’re moving to Manchester.”

“Where’s Manchester?”

“I don’t know, but she said it’s far away.”

I burst into tears, and I could tell he wanted to cry too. His chocolate brown eyes glistened behind his thick glasses. “But what will I do without you?”

“You’ll be okay, Gus. You’ll make new friends.”

“But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll come back and find you. As soon as I’m old enough, I’ll come back. I promise.”

But he hadn’t. From the twentieth of June, his eighteenth birthday, I waited on edge for a year in case our next visitor was the boy I’d never forgotten. Rupert was on the scene by then, as my suitor elect, and despite Mother’s constant badgering I’d put off accepting his proposal for fifteen months in the hopes that Ben might return. But he hadn’t.

Until now.

“Ben?” I whispered.

He nodded, biting his lip.

Before I could stop myself, I thumped him in the chest. “You’re late! Nine bloody years late.”

His worried look turned to confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You said you’d come back when you were old enough. I figured that meant eighteen, not twenty-flipping-seven. I refused to marry Rupert until I was twenty in case you turned up to get me out of there.”

“But I did come back when I was eighteen. Your mother said you were engaged and didn’t want to see me.”

“She saidwhat?” I could hardly get the words out, my teeth were clenched so hard.

“She left me standing at the door while she went to talk to you, then came back all apologetic and said you didn’t think it was a good idea to rake over the past. That you’d just got engaged.”

That… That bitch! “She didn’t tell me you were there, I swear.I swear.”

“I’m beginning to get that.”

“And I wasn’t engaged when I was eighteen. Mother acted like it was a done deal, but I didn’t say yes until I turned nineteen.” I screwed my eyes shut for a second. “I can’t believe she did that.”

Midnight—Beau—Ben laid his forehead against mine once more. “Fuck. And I can’t believe we wasted all this time. I should have tried harder to see you. But when you didn’t reply to any of my letters, I figured you’d forgotten about me.”

“Letters? What letters? I sent you letters, but I never got one back.”

“I didn’t get any letters. Not a single one.”

The heat in my veins turned to anger. “Did you see your mum post your letters to me?”

“No, I always posted them myself. The post box was only a few yards away from the house. My mum just checked I’d stuck the stamp on properly.”

“I always gave mine to Mother to post.” And now I realised she hadn’t. How could I have been so stupid? “She must have hidden yours from me too.”

“Fucking hell. We’ve lost years over this. Years.”

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