Me Before You(71)
Author: Jojo Moyes

‘Louisa, I’m sorry I’m late.’ Camilla Traynor entered briskly, her handbag tucked under her arm, dressed in a grey silk shirt and navy trousers.

I fought the urge to stand up. There was never a time when I spoke to her that I didn’t still feel like I was engaged in some kind of interview.

‘I was held up in court.’

‘Sorry. To get you out of work, I mean. I just … well, I wasn’t sure it could wait.’

She held up a hand, and mouthed something at the waitress, who within seconds had brought her a cappuccino. Then she sat across from me. I felt her gaze like I was transparent.

‘Will had a lawyer come to the house,’ I said. ‘I found out he is a specialist in wills and probate.’ I couldn’t think of any gentler way to open the conversation.

She looked like I’d just smacked her in the face. I realized, too late, that she might actually have thought I’d have something good to tell her.

‘A lawyer? Are you sure?’

‘I looked him up on the internet. He’s based in Regent Street. In London,’ I added unnecessarily. ‘His name is Michael Lawler.’

She blinked hard, as if trying to take this in. ‘Did Will tell you this?’

‘No. I don’t think he wanted me to know. I … I got his name and looked him up.’

Her coffee arrived. The waitress put it on the table in front of her, but Mrs Traynor didn’t seem to notice.

‘Did you want anything else?’ the girl said.

‘No, thank you.’

‘We have carrot cake on special today. We make it here ourselves. It’s got a lovely buttercream fill–’

‘No.’ Mrs Traynor’s voice was sharp. ‘Thank you.’

The girl stood there just long enough to let us know she was offended and then stalked off, her notepad swinging conspicuously from one hand.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘You told me before that I should let you know anything important. I stayed awake half the night trying to work out whether to say anything.’

Her face looked almost leached of colour.

I knew how she felt.

‘How is he in himself? Have you … have you come up with any other ideas? Outings?’

‘He’s not keen.’ I told her about Paris, and my list of things I had compiled.

All the while I spoke, I could see her mind working ahead of me, calculating, assessing.

‘Anywhere,’ she said, finally. ‘I’ll finance it. Any trip you want. I’ll pay for you. For Nathan. Just – just see if you can get him to agree to it.’

I nodded.

‘If there’s anything else you can think of … just to buy us some time. I’ll pay your wages beyond the six months, obviously.’

‘That’s … that’s really not an issue.’

We finished our coffees in silence, both lost in our thoughts. As I watched her, surreptitiously, I noticed that her immaculate hairstyle was now flecked with grey, her eyes as shadowed as my own. I realized I didn’t feel any better for having told her, to have passed my own heightened anxiety on to her – but what choice did I have? The stakes were getting higher with every day that passed. The sound of the clock striking two seemed to spur her out of her stasis.

‘I suppose I should get back to work. Please let me know anything that you … you can come up with, Louisa. It might be better if we have these conversations away from the annexe.’

I stood up. ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘you’ll need my new number. I just moved.’ As she reached into her handbag for a pen, I added, ‘I moved in with Patrick … my boyfriend.’

I don’t know why this news surprised her so much. She looked startled, and then she handed me her pen.

‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.’

‘I didn’t know I needed to tell you.’

She stood, one hand resting on the table. ‘Will mentioned the other day that you … he thought you might be moving into the annexe. At weekends.’

I scribbled Patrick’s home number.

‘Well, I thought it might be more straightforward for everyone if I moved in with Patrick.’ I handed her the slip of paper. ‘But I’m not far away. Just by the industrial estate. It won’t affect my hours. Or my punctuality.’

We stood there. Mrs Traynor seemed agitated, her hand running through her hair, reaching down for the chain around her neck. Finally – as if she could not help herself – she blurted out, ‘Would it really have hurt you to have waited? Just a few weeks?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Will … I think Will is very fond of you.’ She bit her lip. ‘I can’t see … I can’t see how this really helps.’

‘Hold on. Are you telling me I shouldn’t have moved in with my boyfriend?’

‘I’m just saying that the timing is not ideal. Will is in a very vulnerable state. We’re all doing our best to keep him optimistic … and you –’

‘I what?’ I could see the waitress watching us, her notepad stilled in her hand. ‘I what? Dared to have a life away from work?’

She lowered her voice. ‘I am doing everything I can, Louisa, to stop this … thing. You know the task we’re facing. And I’m just saying that I wish – given the fact he is very fond of you – that you had waited a while longer before rubbing your … your happiness in his face.’

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I felt the colour rise to my face, and took a deep breath before I spoke again.

‘How dare you suggest I would do anything to hurt Will’s feelings. I have done everything,’ I hissed. ‘I have done everything I can think of. I’ve come up with ideas, got him out, talked to him, read to him, looked after him.’ My last words exploded out of my chest. ‘I’ve cleaned up after him. I’ve changed his bloody catheter. I’ve made him laugh. I’ve done more than your bloody family have done.’

Mrs Traynor stood very still. She drew herself up to her full height, tucked her handbag under her arm. ‘I think this conversation has probably ended, Miss Clark.’

‘Yes. Yes, Mrs Traynor. I think it probably has.’

She turned, and walked swiftly out of the cafe.

When the door slammed shut, I realized I too was shaking.

That conversation with Mrs Traynor kept me jangling for the next couple of days. I kept hearing her words, the idea that I was rubbing my happiness in his face. I didn’t think Will could be affected by anything that I did. When he had seemed disapproving about my decision to move in with Patrick, I had thought it was about him not liking Patrick rather than any feelings he had for me. More importantly, I didn’t think I had looked particularly happy.