Contents ( 45)
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Four months later...
- Acknowledgments
I shouldn’t have lied to Stuart, but he’d have insisted I stay if my parents weren’t expecting me. We both need space and it can’t do any harm.
Perhaps that’s something I should talk about with Christian. Why I chose to stay, not travel, to take over Nina’s role so wholeheartedly. I loved Ibiza, but it’s my one and only experience of traveling abroad. My parents were campers, great believers in the magic of the fresh British countryside.
With the TV on in the background, I sit cross-legged on the comfy bed and open my laptop. I’ve transferred everything over to mine from Nina’s. I need to concentrate, to try to read between the lines and cross-reference to unpick what Nina was really trying to convey to Camilla. I’ve been putting off reading the words again because they sting, but now that Camilla is trying to worm her way into my life (or Stuart’s—her motivation isn’t obvious), I need to be in possession of all the facts. It’s not a wise enough tactic to bank on the hope that a dog alone will be enough to scare her off.
The emails are dated earlier this year.
03/01 12:32
Hi Camilla,
Long time and all that! I don’t know if you ever check this email address. If you don’t, I’ll have to find some other way to contact you. I’m not sure how to word this, I don’t imagine that it’s necessarily welcome to hear from me.
I thought about this a lot, whether or not to write, sleeping dogs and all that. I know our goodbye was supposed to be just that. But I’d like to make amends because I’m dying. Sorry to put it so bluntly, but I’m running out of time. I’m married (to Stuart still), two children aged seven and five. A boy and a girl, Felix and Emily. Marie said after I’d had Em that of course I’d have a boy first and a girl second, isn’t that everyone’s ideal? I never thought of it like that, and I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Maybe I’ll delete that part.
I stop reading at this point every time, wondering why she didn’t delete it. Thinking about it again, perhaps it makes sense. Toward the end, Nina became even more brutally honest. Our conversations didn’t dwell on trivialities. She got straight to the point, or so I thought.
I don’t need to read on—I know what it says—but I do anyway. Every time I hope that something new will leap out at me, and I’ll come up with a better interpretation.
There’s not much about you online, other than you still live and work in Canada. Long shot, but any chance you’ll be in the UK within the next few months? I’m not sure how long I have. I’m not up to traveling too far. All my time now will be spent with family. I know you’ll understand why I needed to get in touch. I need to tie up all the loose ends, make amends and ensure that my conscience is completely clear. We must speak.