Always and Only You

Chapter Fifty-Four

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Five years ago

Do you miss her?

He shifts uncomfortably as he looks at the message that’s just arrived on his phone screen. He knows talking about the night Megan died is the whole reason these messages are pinging back and forth between them, but he always feels a bit queasy when she brings it up.

Yes.

It’s true. He hadn’t known Megan for very long, but she’d been a big-hearted ball of energy that you couldn’t help feeling drawn to.

That helps she types back. Knowing I’m not the only one who feels this way. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me about it. I know you didn’t want to at first, but it’s meant the world to me. I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.

How can you be three thousand miles away from someone but still feel as if you’ve given them a hug? His thumbs hover above his keypad. There’s something I need to tell you …

He deletes it, types it again and deletes it a second time before running a hand through his hair and throwing his phone down on his desk. He’s supposed to be working, but all he can think about is Erin.

He hates lying to her, has been on the verge of coming clean for more than a week, but …

It’s clear as they’ve picked over their memories of that night that she’s not Gil Sampson’s biggest fan. He could live with that if he thought she’d still talk to him, but he doesn’t think she will. And although he wants that for himself, he’d be ready to give that up if it wasn’t for the fact she needs to talk to someone, and Simon is not prepared or able to be that person at the moment.

She said it herself, didn’t she? Not talking has caused her real psychological trauma. Back then, when Simon gathered the three of them together, suggested they should never mention that night again, even among themselves, Gil thought it was a good idea.

They’d talked enough, been grilled by the police over and over until it was all they could think about. But now he realizes maybe that was the wrong move, too. One extreme or the other hasn’t worked. It’s balance they need – dealing with what happened but not letting it consume them.

And he was helping her do this. How can he stop?

He loves Simon like a brother, but it’s all his fault Gil got sucked into this in the first place.

Simon’s phone ran out of battery on a night out and he’d asked to borrow Gil’s and then had promptly dropped it in the street, where it was run over by a taxi. The apologies had been over the top – Simon even lay down in the street saying he’d be happy if the taxi ran him over too. And then he’d thrust his newer, fancier phone at Gil, saying it was his now, and had refused to take it back.

In the end, Gil had shoved it in his pocket. Simon was all about the grand gestures, especially when he’d had a few beers. He reckoned he’d just give it back to him in the morning, no harm done. But the next day, his best friend had rocked up with an even newer, even fancier phone and insisted he keep the old one.

The problem was that he’d hadn’t just inherited Simon’s phone, but his number.

That’s when the messages from Erin had begun to arrive, asking why he wasn’t answering back.

He’d sighed as he’d scrolled through the one-sided text conversation. Simon had been so into Erin over the summer and even when she first went back to the Caribbean. He’d noticed that Simon had been mentioning Erin less, hungry for any bit of news about her, but he’d assumed Simon just wasn’t sharing, not that he’d been ghosting her.

He’d called Simon out on it, of course he had. Told him he owed it to Erin to be honest with her if he’d lost interest. And Simon had promised he would do just that. Soon. But that was Simon all over – great with the promises, but follow-through could be patchy. If he didn’t know Simon had it in him to be the most loyal friend ever, he’d have ditched him a long time ago.

It was hard to watch Erin’s messages day after day while he was waiting for Simon to fulfil his promise, and finally he’d cracked, picked up his phone and answered. At the time, his reasoning was that it was cruel not to, and that after that very short exchange, he intended to drag Simon over the coals for not doing what he’d said he would and call things off with her.

Simon, as always, was truly contrite, promising he was still intending to contact Erin, but that he was ‘building up’ to it. Seriously, procrastination was the man’s middle name.

More texts came while all this ‘building up’ was going on, so Gil answered the occasional one, usually just with a one or two words. Hopefully, not so much that they got into a fully-fledged conversation, but just enough to stop her getting frantic and jumping on a plane to come home and rescue Simon if she thought he wasn’t doing well. That was exactly the sort of thing generous and kind-hearted Erin would do.

What was the harm in it? he’d reasoned. Was it so wrong to send a little kindness her way, let her down gently on Simon’s behalf?

But he hadn’t counted on his best friend’s ability to stick his head in the sand and avoid tough conversations, especially when it was a case of out of sight, out of mind. He also hadn’t counted on Erin’s talent for burrowing under his skin, for teasing him out and making him talk. She was the first person who’d truly been able to do that. And now he’d found it, he was reluctant to let it go, even though he knew it was wrong.

Be honest with yourself, man. You make it sound so noble, but you know why you’re being a shitty best friend, texting your best friend’s girl behind his back. It’s because you like her. Way more than he ever did. Right from the first moment you laid eyes on her. Don’t kid yourself that this is all for the greater good.

He stares down at his phone, knowing it would be easy to keep chatting back and forth for hours. The little voice in his ear is right. If this is all just some selfless exercise, he’d stick to letting her talk about the night Megan died, but they’ve mostly left that subject behind now and have begun talking about other things. About everything, really. How is that all part of his grand plan?

I’d better go, he taps into his phone . Catch you later.

He goes to find Simon, who’s watching the footy in the living room. He picks the remote up off the coffee table and presses the power button.

‘Mate …!’ Simon says, looking both perplexed and pissed off. ‘I was watching that!’

He rarely loses his temper with Simon, but he’s getting close to doing it now. ‘When are you going to tell Erin it’s over?’

Simon frowns. ‘I’m not being funny, but … what’s that got to do with you?’

He holds up the evidence – Simon’s old phone – and Simon’s eyes widen as the penny drops.

‘She’s still messaging? Wow. To be honest, it’s so long since I texted her, I thought she’d have worked it out. She’s probably dating some American deckhand by now, called Brad or Tyler or something …’

The thought of some tall, blond, wholesome-looking meathead taking Erin out on a date sends Gil’s blood pressure through the roof. ‘You’ve got two weeks!’ he says, brandishing the phone towards his best friend. ‘Or I’m going to do it for you.’

Simon just laughs. ‘All right, I’ll do it. Christ. Calm down, Gil.’