Always and Only You

Chapter Forty-Six

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Present Day

The next day, Anjali comes for lunch. She’s been on a training course for work, so I haven’t seen her in two weeks. It’s a nice day out, so we go to sit on the patio at the far end of Mum’s long thin garden. Mum insists we sit and chat while she fetches us soft drinks and sandwiches.

‘How are things going?’ Anjali asks.

‘Okay … I’m getting there.’

‘Any idea when you’ll be able to go back to work?’

I shake my head. ‘It turns out household management isn’t the best fit for someone trying to recover from a head injury.’

Anjali snaffles a prawn cocktail sandwich from the pile on the plate in front of us. ‘Kalinda fired you?’

‘No. I’m on an extended leave of absence. She’s got someone to cover my role for now. You know how the sort of people I work for are … They’re used to five-star service all the way, everything perfect all the time. And it can be unpredictable, putting out fires one after the other. I can’t even stay on top of my own life at the moment, let alone take care of theirs.’

Anjali gets up and comes over to give me a hug. My eyes well up and I blink the tears away. God, I’m such a crybaby these days. Now my emotions have sprung back to life, it’s as if they all come pouring out of me any time I feel the slightest thing.

Anjali sees my face and offers me a tissue from a packet in her handbag. I mop myself up. ‘Anyway, I’m sick of talking about myself. What about you? Is …?’ I’m about to mention Anjali’s evil ex, but it appears I’ve forgotten his name, so I fudge it. ‘Is “you know who” behaving himself?’

Anjali pulls herself up straighter. ‘I wouldn’t know. I blocked him.’

‘You—’

She nods. ‘Yep. That’s right, blocked him on every messaging app and every social media platform.’

I can hardly believe I’m hearing this. I’ve been trying to get her to do that for ages. ‘What brought that on?’

‘He told me he loved me and wanted me back.’

I almost drop my lemonade. ‘Did I hear that right? Because, usually, that kind of thing would have you running back into his arms.’

She gives me a helpless smile. ‘I found out that Charlene – the girl he left me for, remember? – dumped him and slept with his best friend. Or maybe she slept with his best friend and then dumped him … Either way. He was feeling pretty sorry for himself.’

‘But how did you …? What did he …?’

‘How did I manage not to get suckered in one more time?’

‘Well, yes …’

‘I thought about all the advice you’d given me I’d blatantly ignored and realized not only was he an idiot, but I was, too. From that point on, I promised myself I’d only respond to him if I first asked myself “what would Erin do?” . Once I’d done that, I told him to delete my number from his phone and never contact me again.’

I start giggling. ‘Wh–what would Erin do?’

Anjali grins. ‘It’s going to be my new catchphrase.’

And then we really start laughing. Mum comes back up the garden to see if we need more drinks and finds us almost falling off our chairs. ‘Erin!’ she says in her best community busybody voice. ‘Are you sure you’re supposed to be—’

I swallow my laughter and pull my face into a sensible expression. Or at least I try to. ‘It’s okay, Mum. It’s good for me to get endorphins flowing round my system. A little bit of laughter isn’t going to kill me.’

Mum looks at me as if she isn’t so sure, as if she’s afraid if I laugh too much, something will pop inside my head and that will be it. ‘Just … try to be sensible,’ she says, softening a little. Then she turns to Anjali and adds, ‘And don’t you tire her out, madam. I always said you were a bad influence.’ But she’s wearing an indulgent smile, and she pats her on the shoulder as she turns to leave. My mum has always had a soft spot for Anjali.

We both watch her retreat down the garden and disappear into the house. ‘She’s driving me bonkers,’ I say.

‘She’s trying so hard, though. And at least she’s finally present in your relationship. That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?’

I take a sip of my water. ‘I know. I suppose this is a case of “be careful what you wish for”. I mean, I’m going to spend the weekend at home with Simon, just to have a couple of days off.’

Anjali grins at me. ‘Do you think I can come and be your stand-in here? I wouldn’t mind getting breakfast in bed and being waited on hand and foot for a weekend.’

I can’t help laughing. ‘Be my guest.’

‘But seriously,’ Anjali says. ‘She’s just worried about you – which is understandable. You had us all in a panic for a while.’

‘I suppose you’ve got a point and yes, you’re right – I always wanted Mum to be a bit more interested in my life, but it’s also completely exhausting. She’s so … invested. The truth is, I have good days and bad days, but on the days I’m not doing so well, I see the fear in her eyes. And that makes me scared too.’

Anjali twirls a strand of hair around her finger. ‘It must be quite triggering for her. Do you think something about seeing you not well is reminding her of your brother?’

‘That’s definitely crossed my mind. But if anything, it means I’m feeling the pressure to not let her down, to make a full and speedy recovery. Some days I even lie and say I’m doing better than I am because I don’t want her to worry. It’s like she needs me to be okay.’

Anjali looks me in the eye. ‘But what do you need, Erin?’

I shake my head wearily. What I need is to rewind time, go back to that day before the wedding that never was and do something different, so I never end up with a head injury in the first place. But since I don’t know why I was in the garden on my own, I don’t even have a clue what that might be. Other than that, I’m stumped. Knowing what everyone else needs and serving it up to them is my superpower. I’m not so good at turning it around on myself.

A naughty glint appears in Anjali’s eyes, and she leans down to the large tote bag sitting by her chair. ‘Well, while you’re working it out, maybe these will help…’ and she brings out a tub full of salted caramel mini muffins and places them on the table between us.

‘Oh my God!’ I say, taking a swift look at the kitchen window. ‘Don’t let my mum see these! She’ll confiscate them.’

Anjali salutes me, takes two muffins from the pot, and replaces it in her bag. ‘This is why I brought mini muffins,’ she says, unpeeling one from its case and pushing the other towards me. She opens her mouth and pops the whole thing inside, then closes it again. ‘Eaf … ta hide … effy den,’ she says.

I’ve only just recovered from the last bout of laughter, yet I’m set to go again. ‘What?’

She swallows and tries again. ‘Easier to hide the evidence! Go on …’ She nods at my muffin and waits.

I’ve just finished unpeeling it when my mum appears from the back door, carrying what looks like a platter of fresh fruit. I shoot a panicked look at Anjali, crumple the paper up and stuff it down my cleavage, then shove the muffin in my mouth because I have literally nowhere else to put it.

‘Everything okay?’ Mum says brightly as she places the fruit platter on the table. I nod, doing my best version of an angelic smile, muffin threatening to emerge from my closed mouth at any second, and Anjali almost implodes trying to keep the giggles inside. ‘Yes, thank you, Julie,’ she says sweetly. ‘What lovely fruit!’ And she picks off a grape and eats it. ‘Don’t let us keep you …’

‘Well, yes … I have got some charity stuff I should get on with,’ Mum says, shooting a nervous look in my direction, where I’m close to choking on a salted caramel mini muffin.

‘I’ll take care of Erin,’ Anjali says with a winning smile. ‘Don’t you worry.’

I hold it together, quickly chewing and swallowing my muffin while Mum walks back down the garden and when she’s safely winside and the back door is closed, I explode into a coughing fit, showering crumbs everywhere, and then we both start laughing again.

‘Just what I needed,’ I say when we’ve both regained our composure.

‘Personally, I think mini muffins could solve most of the world’s problems, if we only gave them a chance.’

I stand up, walk around the back of my best friend’s chair and give her a big squishy hug from behind. ‘Not the muffins, you melon,’ I say in her ear. ‘It’s you. You are just what I needed.’