The Life You Love

Chapter 7/Part 1

I stare at the woman in front of me. The woman who thought she knew me, who I thought said my name but was then convinced I was mistaken, that she was just an old woman with a failing mind. But here she is, in Amelia's house. I can see it now, looking into the same eyes as my best friend. Though her face is full of wrinkles, her eyes sunken and lips not as full as they once were, I can still see the similarities - the family resemblance. But then why did that woman from the Day Centre come looking for her? I'm utterly confused, but it seems I'm not alone for Elizabeth is glaring at me, a look of anger upon her.

'What do you want? I'm not buying anything. Leave me alone.' She sounds scared. She's vulnerable and I think, although perhaps she doesn't realise, that she knows this too. She makes to close the door on me when I suddenly find my voice.

'Wait, Bet. No!' I beg of her. I need to find out where Amelia is - if she's ok.

'Who's Bet?' she asks and for a second I think I have been gravely mistaken. I know I'm not. I know this is the same lady I bumped into in the street. This lady knows me. And I know her. I didn't realise at first. I had never seen her anywhere other than this house before, so of course I was unable to place her. The nurse called her Elizabeth, her full name, but she always insisted on being called Bet and I guess I just forgot that wasn't her given name. I also know for absolute certain that this is Amelia's house - I knew it was the moment I saw it, the moment I saw the lobby inside, yet I'm still doubting my own instincts for the briefest of moments until I hear the voice I've been waiting for: Amelia.

'Gran? Where are you?' There's a sound of laundry being thrown onto the nearest chair as Amelia's voice grows impatient.

'Gran! What are you doing? You know you aren't to answer the door. I don't want you running off with someone or giving them money.' She's getting closer now and I can hear the exasperation in her voice. I'm hit with a wave of nerves, suddenly anxious about what Amelia will think that I've came to her house. All too soon, yet not quickly enough, Amelia appears at the door. For the first time in months we make eye contact and I feel a kaleidoscope of butterflies all swarming around my stomach.

'Liss?' it's barely a whisper. The exhaustion on Amelia's face is so obvious that I can't believe I haven't noticed it before. I look between her and Bet, trying to say with my face what I'm failing to form into words.

'Gran,' she addresses Bet, 'go head inside. I've got your programmes on for you. Come on.' She goes to lead Bet into the living room and for a moment I panic, wondering if she's just going to shut me out but instead she mouths to me "one minute", pointing at the stairs. I tentatively step over the threshold, being reminded of the few times I did spend in this house. I can still picture Amelia's childhood bedroom - lilac wallpaper with deep purple and silver butterflies all over it. I feel like I'm on autopilot as I head up the stairs and into Amelia's room. I'm so taken aback by how little it has changed. The wallpaper is the same but she has a wooden framed day bed in place of her old metal loft bed, still right by the window. All of her old her teddies are bundled up against the wall, including Mr Phin, the dolphin plush I brought her back from a waterpark in Spain one year. My heart warms at the sight of him. She mustn't hate me completely if she still has him. I look around and see the same desk she has always had now on the opposite wall to where it used to be but now instead of neatly organised notebooks, it's cluttered with leaflets and schoolbooks, the framed photo of us from our first day of primary school is hidden behind the stacks of papers but it's still there, as is the collage on her wall full of pictures from our biggest milestones: when we we gave our brownie promise, the primary farewell dance, our first day of high school. I'm taking it all in when the door shuts behind me.

'What are you doing here?' she snaps, trying to keep her voice low, presumably so Bet doesn't hear. The smile on my face drops. I thought when she asked me upstairs that it was for us to chat, so she could explain and we'd fix things but it sounds like I've just angered her. For some reason I make a mental note to tell Mr Maguire that he's wrong - we should trust our gut instinct.

'What am I doing here?' I practically spit the words at her. 'I'm here because you're my best friend, Amelia, and I'm fed up of you pushing me away. Now will you tell me what is going on?' I want to rip my hair out, to scream. I can't believe this. I thought from the way Jem spoke that Amelia wanted me to know but was scared of what I'd think, yet here we are, Amelia is pissed because I care. Why do I bother?

'No, Elissa. This has nothing to do with you. Stop trying to stick your nose in, please. Why did you come? Why couldn't you just leave me alone?' She has tears forming now, droplets threatening to spill over. I want to reach out, to hug her. I want to tell her it's ok. But I'm mad. I feel like everyone wants rid of me. Alex running off from our date, my best friend not even telling me why she won't act like a friend anymore. I contemplate for a moment just walking out of the door and away. Away from her forever. But my eyes are drawn to the pictures still taped on the walls, Mr Phin, the matching friendship necklace I can see around her neck. Instinctively I draw my hand up to my own. We've worn these everyday since we bought them back in primary school on a rare shopping trip. They're not even those real BFF necklaces you get, the ones that are two halves of a heart type. It's just a normal necklace we both liked: a silver chain with a silver star pendant. So we each bought one and, although they were exactly the same, we gave the one in our hand over to the other like a gift, before helping to put them on. Every day, for years, we've worn them. And we both still have them on. It has to be a sign. I take in everything around me, all these reminders of our friendship, our vows of sisterhood. We promised that nothing would get in the way of us. We had plans to go on holidays after high school, go to the same if not nearby universities. We both wanted to be vets for a while and said we would absolutely work together, and if nowhere would hire us both, we would just open our own surgery. Lately, I haven't a clue what I want to do, nor what Amelia does. I just know we don't want to be vests anymore. All of these little things in her room remind me of these plans, of us. It just can't be. Amelia and Elissa. Elissa and Amelia. For the longest time our two names went side by side, no matter what. We were inseparable. We are inseparable. I'd been holding on to the hope that I'd finally get my chance to talk to her and things would be alright and though it seems doubtful now, she still has these memories. She still has that necklace. I can't give up, not now, not ever. I can't give up on Amelia.