The First Time I Said Goodbye Read Online Free PDF Page A

die.
    We chatted for a while. I agreed to drink a cup of tea. Sam said I would be banished from the family before I’d even been properly welcomed if I refused. I nibbled at a sandwich and watched my mother come to life before my eyes – her eyes dancing with tears and joy as she reacquainted herself with people she had last hugged forty-eight years before, her eyes darting around the room trying, I imagine, to remember when it was her home. It was clear from very early on that this party was not going to end any time soon, so when Sam offered to take me back to his place I almost threw myself into his arms with gratitude.

    Chapter 4

    I think if you were here it would be easier – but you feel so far away. It feels like so long since I have held you and have felt you with me. What if it has all changed?

    * * *

    His house at least was not what I had feared. In fact, I actually did cry a little when I saw the whitewashed house with a beautifully manicured garden. The painted red door opened to reveal a modern, not at all chintzy, interior – light and airy with bucket-loads of natural light which did hurt my tired eyes a little but definitely did my heart good.
    Walking down the long hall, Sam gestured to a shiny white kitchen before pointing towards a lounge which screamed minimalist elegance. My heart dared to hope that the spare room might not be the hellhole I had imagined. But what I hadn’t counted on was the room being like something out of my dreams. A bed dominated the room – a very large wrought-iron bed. It sat under a bay window draped with light muslin curtains, but equipped with the best black-out blinds money could buy. And on the bed the plump eiderdown was covered in crisp white linen which Sam kindly informed was indeed Egyptian cotton (3000 count) and I had to fight the urge to lie down there and then. He pointed to a door that led to an admittedly small walk-in closet and another that led to a beautifully appointed en suite bathroom. The power shower called to me and I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.
    “A shower is not a shower unless you feel there is a real possibility the force of the water will take off a layer of skin as well,” Sam said and, not for the first time, I fought the urge to hug him.
    “Why not rest up? Take your time. I’ve a friend calling over later – you are more than welcome to join us, or you can just rest here until you feel recovered from the journey.”
    Still smiling like a woman delirious from hours and hours of travel, I said I would see how I felt after I washed off the grime of two continents from my skin and had a little lie-down.
    He switched on the small antique lamp beside the bed and pulled down the black-out blinds for me. “Sleep well,” he said. “Anything you need just holler.”
    As he left the room, I sat down on the edge of the bed, allowing the softness of the sheets underneath me to soothe my tiredness. Thinking I would just lie down, just for a moment, I put my head on the pillow and drifted off.
    When I woke the house was silent. A glass of water had appeared on my bedside table with a note saying to help myself to anything in the kitchen. Lifting my cell from my bag I saw that it was gone 3 a.m. – my brain was too tired to figure out what that meant in US time.
    I had a series of messages from Craig.
    Through my still-exhausted fug I tried to make some sort of sense of them.
    Are you there?
    Are you safe?
    Where are you?
    Do you even care?
    You leave the country and I cease to exist any more, huh?
    Oh, shit. He was annoyed and I would have to try and appease him. I should have called, or sent a text or something, but it had all been so full on that, I was ashamed to admit, he had simply slipped my mind. But I couldn’t tell him that: that he had simply slipped my mind. That would not go down well at all. Not one bit. I felt something sink in the bottom of my stomach – which given the fact I thought my stomach was already at an