Losing You Read Online Free PDF Page B

before? He was familiar, but I couldn’t place him, or the woman his arm was wrapped round.
    ‘I’m packing,’ I said.
    The man – was he called Derek or Eric? – pulled the cork from the bottle and a spume of smoke and froth oozed over its neck. I stood back as the group advanced over the threshold like a small army. Someone thrust a bunch of flowers into my hands.
    ‘I’m leaving in a couple of hours,’ I tried to say.
    As I was about to shut the door on us all, I saw more people coming round the corner, carrying bottles and parcels: Carrie from the primary school and her husband; Ashleigh’s mother; the nice woman who’s a solicitor, Joanna or Josephine or something. Behind her Rick and Karen and, trailing them, Eamonn, who wasn’t even wearing a jacket, just a T-shirt.
    I turned to face my visitors. ‘Make yourselves at home,’ I said, although most of them already had. Alix was shaking crisps into one of my serving dishes and the vicar had dug out some glasses for the champagne. ‘Can you answer the door for me? I’m going to get some clothes on.’
    ‘Take a drink up with you,’ someone called.
    ‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘It’s not even midday and, anyway, I’m driving later.’
    ‘Just one. It’s your birthday! I’m certainly going to.’
    ‘I’ll make you some coffee,’ said Joel.
    ‘Thanks,’ I said.
    ‘Go and change. I know where everything is. Sorry to be dressed like this. I’ve got some work to do afterwards.’
    ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said, meaning that it didn’t matter how he was dressed, it didn’t matter whether he had work to do. He didn’t need to tell me about his life.
    I escaped up the stairs and put my head round Jackson’s door. He was sitting on his bed, in an immaculately tidy room, filming his feet, as far as I could see.
    ‘There’s a horde of people downstairs,’ I said, in a hiss.
    Jackson aimed the camcorder at my face.
    ‘Charlie said something about it. She told me not to tell you.’
    ‘Yes, I can see that.’
    ‘Shouldn’t you put some clothes on, though?’
    ‘Good idea. But where’s Charlie? Has she prepared something else?’
    ‘Dunno.’
    I heard the sound of more knocking on the front door and Sludge barking. The swell of voices and laughter from downstairs grew louder.
    ‘Please stop filming me,’ I said.
    He put the camcorder down on his bed.
    ‘She’ll be here soon,’ he said. ‘You know what she’s like. She only did it because she thought you’d be pleased.’
    I went to my room and rang Charlie’s number again.
    ‘Where are you?’ I said, leaving a message. ‘Charlie, this is getting ridiculous. Come home now. There are dozens of people drinking downstairs, thanks to you, and we’re leaving for Florida soon. You haven’t even packed and – oh, never mind, just come home.’
    Making no concession to the impromptu celebrations going on without me, I pulled on the jeans and top I planned to travel in and brushed my hair in front of the mirror, then tied it, still damp, in a loose bun. I put on the earrings Christian had sent me days before as an early present. I knelt in front of my suitcase and rifled through its contents: light skirts, bright shirts, shorts, sandals. Had I packed enough books, I wondered. I could always get more at the airport. I wished we were there now, just the four of us, loitering together in the timeless, placeless limbo before departure, buying things we didn’t need. On an impulse, I called Christian again on his mobile. This time he was there.
    ‘Hi,’ I said softly. ‘Me again. That’s all I’m ringing to say, really. And I’m looking forward to seeing you.’
    ‘Me you too,’ he said. His voice sounded as if he was smiling. ‘Are you all packed?’
    ‘Not as such.’
    ‘Where are you? You sound like you’re calling from the pub.’
    ‘I’ll tell you about it later.’
    ‘Don’t be late.’
    ‘I won’t. Unless I can’t find Charlie.’
    ‘What does that