Me Before You(87)
Author: Jojo Moyes

He lifted his eyes to mine. ‘I don’t think I’m being unreasonable. But I don’t want you to go. I don’t care if you don’t want to do the Viking, but I don’t want you to go on this … this holiday. With him.’

‘But I –’

‘Nearly seven years, we’ve been together. And you’ve known this man, had this job, for five months. Five months. If you go with him now, you’re telling me something about our relationship. About how you feel about us.’

‘That’s not fair. It doesn’t have to say anything about us,’ I protested.

‘It does if I can say all this and you’re still going to go.’

The little flat seemed so still around us. He was looking at me with an expression I had never seen before.

When my voice emerged, it did so as a whisper. ‘But he needs me.’

I realized almost as soon as I said it, heard the words and how they twisted and regrouped in the air, knew already how I would have felt if he had said the same to me.

He swallowed, shook his head a little as if he were having trouble taking in what I said. His hand came to rest on the side of the worktop, and then he looked up at me.

‘Whatever I say isn’t going to make a difference, is it?’

That was the thing about Patrick. He always was smarter than I gave him credit for.

‘Patrick, I –’

He closed his eyes, just for a moment, and then he turned and walked out of the living room, leaving the last of the empty dishes on the sideboard.

21

Steven

The girl moved in at the weekend. Will didn’t say anything to Camilla or me, but I walked into the annexe on Saturday morning still in my pyjamas to see if Will needed any help, as Nathan was delayed, and there she was, walking up the hallway with a bowlful of cereal in one hand and the newspaper in the other. She blushed when she saw me. I don’t know why – I was wearing my dressing gown, all perfectly decent. I remember thinking afterwards that there had been a time when it had been perfectly normal to find pretty young things creeping out of Will’s bedroom in the morning.

‘Just bringing Will his post,’ I said, waving it.

‘He’s not up yet. Do you want me to give him a shout?’ Her hand went to her chest, shielding herself with the newspaper. She was wearing a Minnie Mouse T-shirt and the kind of embroidered trousers you used to see Chinese women wearing in Hong Kong.

‘No, no. Not if he’s sleeping. Let him rest.’

When I told Camilla, I thought she’d be pleased. She had been so wretchedly cross about the girl moving in with her boyfriend, after all. But she just looked a bit surprised, and then adopted that tense expression which meant she was already imagining all sorts of possible and undesirable consequences. She didn’t say as much, but I was pretty sure she was not keen on Louisa Clark. That said, I didn’t know who it was Camilla approved of these days. Her default setting seemed to be stuck on Disapprove.

We never got to the bottom of what had prompted Louisa to stay – Will just said ‘family issues’ – but she was a busy little thing. When she wasn’t looking after Will, she was dashing around, cleaning and washing, whizzing backwards and forwards to the travel agent’s and to the library. I would have known her anywhere in town because she was so conspicuous. She wore the brightest-coloured clothing of anyone I’d seen outside the tropics – little jewel-hued dresses and strange-looking shoes.

I would have said to Camilla that she brightened the place up. But I couldn’t make that sort of remark to Camilla any more.

Will had apparently told her that she could use his computer, but she refused, in favour of using those at the library. I don’t know if she was afraid of being seen to be taking advantage, or if it was because she didn’t want him to see whatever it was that she was doing.

Whichever it was, Will seemed a little happier when she was around. A couple of times I heard their conversations filtering through my open window, and I’m sure I heard Will laugh. I spoke to Bernard Clark, just to make sure he was quite happy with the arrangement, and he said it was a bit tricky as she had split up with her long-term boyfriend, and all sorts of things seemed to be up in the air at their home. He also mentioned that she had applied for some conversion course to continue her education. I decided not to tell Camilla about that one. I didn’t want her to think what that might mean. Will said she was into fashion and that sort of thing. She was certainly easy on the eye, and had a lovely figure – but, honestly, I wasn’t sure who on earth would buy the kinds of things she wore.

On Monday evening, she asked if Camilla and I would come with Nathan into the annexe. She had laid out the table with brochures, printed timetables, insurance documents and other things that she’d printed off the internet. There were copies for each of us, in clear plastic folders. It was all terribly organized.

She wanted, she said, to present us with her plans for a holiday. (She had warned Camilla that she would make it sound like she was the one gleaning all the benefit, but I could still see Camilla’s eyes grow a little steely as she detailed all the things she had booked for them.)

It was an extraordinary trip that seemed to involve all sorts of unusual activities, things I couldn’t imagine Will doing even before his accident. But every time she mentioned something – white-water rafting, or bungee jumping or what have you – she would hold up a document in front of Will, showing other injured young men taking part, and say, ‘If I’m going to try all these things you keep saying I should, then you have to do them with me.’

I have to admit, I was secretly rather impressed by her. She was a resourceful little thing.

Will listened to her, and I could see him reading the documents she laid out in front of him.

‘Where did you find all this information?’ he said, finally.

She raised her eyebrows at him. ‘Knowledge is power, Will,’ she said.

And my son smiled, as if she had said something particularly clever.

‘So … ’ Louisa said, when all the questions had been asked. ‘We will be leaving in eight days’ time. Are you happy, Mrs Traynor?’ There was a faint air of defiance in the way she said it, as if she were daring Camilla to say no.

‘If that’s what you all want to do, then it’s quite all right by me,’ Camilla said.

‘Nathan? Are you still up for it?’

‘You bet.’

‘And … Will?’