Page 23 of The Book Swap
Don’t you think people got to wear much better clothes back then? I think my life would be complete, were it still acceptable to wear a bonnet.
She only shut herself away in a room for five days? I managed a whole month once. It actually gets easier, the longer you go without leaving. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I’d cross it out, but for some reason, scribbling out words in the margins is unacceptable, whereas writing is fine. Argh. I’m making myself sound weirder by the second, aren’t I?!
Quite the opposite, I think as I read that last comment.
I run, I reply. I try to run every day because otherwise I worry I might get into my bed and never leave it again. Forcing yourself out every day—that’s the harder choice, don’t you think?
I scan my eyes over the words, unable to believe I’ve written them. I’ve never told anyone that. How I run because I’m so afraid that if I don’t, I’ll end up like Mum.
9
ERIN
“Honestly, everyone’s quoting you,” Cassie says, leaning forward across the table, a grin on her face. “Your ‘I. Fucking. Quit.’ line. Charlotte’s even taken the bell away. Now we all have to clap instead—and yes, that’s as cringe as it sounds.” She rolls her eyes and pours us both another large glass of pale rosé.
We’re indoors at the Hope & Anchor in Brixton escaping the bitter December cold.
“Well, if I die, at least I’ve made some kind of mark on the world,” I say, smiling before I realize what I’ve said. Shaking my head, I make a silent apology to Bonnie.
“Oh definitely. Also, and I hate to admit it, she’s being a tiny bit nicer. Nothing outrageous. Anyone who’s started after you left is still terrified of her, but it’s like this secret club. For those of us that were in that room...we see the change.”
“Right. So I sacrificed my entire career so that you could all have a lovely working environment while I’m unemployed?”
Cassie scrunches up her face. “Afraid so. But now you get to choose a whole new career that doesn’t take over your life.” She reaches out and grabs my hand. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you. I wasn’t sure if...” She stops. Shrugs.
“What?”
“I just didn’t know if I’d see you again. I never knew if it was just...you know...a work thing.”
Shame rushes to my cheeks, making them hot. How must I have behaved around her, to make her feel that way? It isn’t something I’d tell Cassie, but Bonnie and Georgia aside, she’s probably my closest friend. What does it mean if a person you think you’re close to doesn’t even know if you want to stay in touch with them or not?
“It wasn’t just a work thing,” I say. “Sorry. I... My best friend died three years ago, and I’ve just, I guess, struggled a bit.” I pick up my wine and down some, so I don’t think too much about what I’ve just said out loud. I never told anyone at work about Bonnie. Largely because I knew that if Charlotte knew, she’d find a way to use it against me.
“Oh my God.” Cassie jumps up and runs around to my side of the table, pulling me toward her for a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so sorry.”
“I was just trying to keep work separate.” As I say the words I understand why Cassie felt the way she did. I was treating her as part of that separate life.
“What happened?”
“Cancer. She was the same age as me.”
“God, that’s so sad,” Cassie says as she returns to her seat. “Tell me about her.” She reaches across and tops up my wine, her eyes wide as she watches me.
“She was amazing,” I say, stumbling for words. I don’t talk about Bonnie; I talk to Bonnie. This is new for me. The past tense stuff. “She had this incredible throaty laugh which filled the room. She always had the best advice. Was such a fierce cheerleader of women, and her friends especially. She was loyal. Funny. She’d never let you get away with saying something that wasn’t true. You know, like the little lies we tell ourselves to excuse something? She saw right through them.” Smiling, I realize how good it feels to remember her this way. To share her with someone. With Cassie. “Thank you,” I say. “I don’t often talk about her. Not like that.”
Cassie smiles back at me. “Sounds like she was one of the great loves of your life.”
She gets it. “She is. She was. Speaking of which...” I raise my eyebrows and Cassie rolls her eyes as she lets out a groan.
“I’m not giving up hope. I refuse to,” she says.
“But...?”
“But the last date I had was, well, standard for me. His profile said he was looking for a relationship, and in the messages before we met, he kept saying how important honesty was.”
“Uh-oh.”
“So I told him the truth over our first drink. That I wasn’t fucking about. I wanted to meet someone. I wanted the rest of my life to begin with the next person I got into a relationship with, and if that scared him then it wasn’t going to work.”