Harry
"Bye Harry," her voice says, but it doesn't sound like Alex. She sounds straightforward, not even bothering to ask what is going on, and she ends the call without waiting for an answer.
For a moment I just listen to the silence of the garden, barely hearing the crippling of the lake or the birds singing their songs in the trees above me.
She's finished with me. I feel like ripping out my insides, most of all picking out my brain for being so stupid to return to Susie. Susie who now is happy with Joseph. Joseph who is probably the most in demand artist now. And I'm here, in this godforsaken place without a proper job, without the woman I love and with a dying mother who couldn't even speak today. I fucked up, but I can't help but wonder why I even went back to Susie in the first place. Why didn't I just believed me and Alex were going to be alright?
Everything happened too quick. It would have been better if she'd stayed in Palas a little while longer. Have her settled down in London in her own place. But I can't deny that even so, Susie would still be in the picture and that wrecked everything. We could have survived Alex's anxiety and my pain over my family, but not with me leaving out a huge detail that is Susie.
I love Alex plenty and from the moment we got together I also knew that I'd never find anyone like her. It is why I never quite got over her. Always this longing feeling towards her, even after years apart. But maybe that's how it is supposed to feel when you lose your first, real love and you're just supposed to let it bleed out instead of trying to rekindle it like we did. Maybe you need even more time than three years to get over each other, although I hope it won't take me this long this time around. I don't think I can go from girl to girl again, never feeling completely at ease with them.
But I guess that is my future now, and I brought it upon myself. Alex will pack the rest of my clothes and belongings and I'll stay here for as long as needed. We'll meet one last time, but I have a feeling we both will put that off as long as possible, my mother probably right about us meeting once she's dead.
There were multiple moments today where I thought she might pass any second. Her breathing shallow and quick, but Abby gave her a different kind of painkiller and she seems to react to it. It only makes her a bit drowsy and I wonder if she'll be able to get outside again.
After a few more minutes the sun sets and it becomes too cold to be outside without a jacket. Not feeling the need to look out over the lake in the depressed mood I'm in, I move myself inside where it is a sauna for my mother's sake. She's sitting upright in bed, leaning against the headboard, her eyes closed.
"Harry," she mumbles, her voice thin and weak, just like her body.
"I'm here," I tell her, taking my usual spot on the chair next to the door. "Alex picked up," I continue, to distract her from whatever she's feeling. "I gave up the rent and she's okay with it."
"How did she sound?"
"Almost as if she's ending a job."
"I can imagine you were one to her," she says, opening one eye, the humor clear on her face. "She's probably protecting herself. She choose you, Harry and it was never her choice to end it like this. She must still have feelings for you."
"Might be, but I don't stand a chance. I don't deserve her anyway."
"You deserve her and she deserves you, Harry. You both deserve to be happy, but you weren't with each other."
"Whatever," I say, waving with my hand to stop her talking about this. "Is Abby coming later?"
"No, I'm fine. No one needs to tuck me in."
"I have to start there on Monday."
"It will be okay," she says, and maybe it is the fact that she's giving me useful advise that she hasn't given me in years or just the bitterness of the situation that makes me snort.
"Sure it will," I tell her. "Let's just go to sleep."
I don't need to tell her twice and she lets herself slouch down the headboard and settles on her pillow. Judging by her breathing, it doesn't take her long to fall asleep and I stay on the chair until I know for sure that she's peaceful and without pain. After thirty minute I stand up and go to my own room where I strip down to nothing and manage to fall asleep for a few hours. A new record.
****
Abby has given me one job to begin with and that is sort out her administration. Apparently that was her husband's job and after his death, she has been putting it off. She pays her bills, but hasn't bothered to really dive in and see what is coming in and what she's spending. Money isn't my favorite thing to deal with or think about, but it keeps my mind off my mother who is now home alone. It's stupid to worry about her because she's been alone there for the majority of the time and she prefers me out of the house. Dying can happen any day, any time, being in the house of Abby reminds me of that.
Having lost her husband in a car crash, her and her daughters life changed drastically in the course of days. In a much less serious sense I know what that's like, but it doesn't compare to what they must have gone through. Abby seems okay, but maybe that's just her being a professional when she's around my mother. Maxime was quiet the moments when I helped her get to school in time, but I'm not sure if it has anything to do with the loss of her dad. For all I know she was always a quiet girl, even before her dad died. But I know how the passing of a parent can change you, I've seen it first hand with Alex. That very first year in Palas we were compatible. She brought out the best in me and I in her, but somewhere that changed and it probably had to do with that as well.
I get through the days without much of a hassle, organizing everything in neat piles only thinking about how ridiculous this all is for the half of it. During it I manage to clean up her house, the mess the only indication that maybe Abby isn't doing as well as she lets on. After two weeks the administration is done and I feel guilty even asking money for it. Maybe with the rent being stopped in a few days, I can manage without it.
"Look," I say when Abby returns home from a night shift, Max eating the breakfast I made. "I don't really need the money. Everything is in order now."
"I'd still like for you to help with Maxime," Abby says, rubbing her eyes as she pours a glass full with water.
"There's coffee," I offer, but she shakes her head.
"Can't sleep if I drink coffee now, but Harry, I thought we agreed on this. I'll pay you. I need help with Maxxie, too."
"Max," she mumbles.
"Well, with Max," she says, clearly tired. "I can't keep this all together on my own."
"Isn't there someone else that can help?" I ask, feeling a bit guilty for it, but children aren't my strongest suit. "It's just, I can do administration and cook and clean, but I don't work well with kids. No offense, Max."
"Non taken," she says, grinning.
"I don't know," Abby says, looking from Max to me, "but it seems to me that you are with Max."
"Also, I'm not a kid," Max adds.
I roll my eyes to that, and sigh. "Fine then."
"Great," Abby speaks, getting up from her seat. "Can you bring Maxxie to school? It is pouring out. Then I can go to bed for a few blissful hours and meet you at your mother's."
"Okay," I mumble, sitting down next to Max.
"Also, you're still my baby," Abby says to Max as she walks away to her room for much needed sleep.
"No, I'm not," Max whispers, clearly angry at that.
"You are nine," I deadpan to her.
"Almost ten. I wouldn't be surprised if she asks you to bake my cake in a few days."
"I'll buy one," I deadpan.
"She barely has time for me," Max then says, and it feels like she has been dying to tell someone about it.
"Well, she has to work twice as hard doesn't she," I say, feeling a little bit like a dick for speaking this way to a nine-year old. "I doubt she wants that."
"Whatever," she says, getting up from her seat. "Will you take me or is that too difficult for you?"
"I think I'll let you walk if that's how you're going to behave. I liked you much more quiet," I say, getting up too, thinking I was wrong about this girl believing she was only quiet, not bitchy.
"My hair will get wet, it doesn't look good when it is wet."
"Should have thought of that earlier."
"Please, Harry, will you bring me to school? I'll be quiet again."
"Thank you," I say, grabbing the keys of my car, and in silence we drive to her school before I return home.
"Back already?" I hear mother say as I walk through the back door.
"Yeah, she only needed someone to do the breakfast and then bring Max to school. She's asleep now, will stop by here later."
"She doesn't have any more queries for you then?"
"Want me out of the house?" I counter back, sitting down on the chair by her bed.
"No," she says with a shrug. "I'm actually feeling alright today. I'd like to go outside."
"Okay," I say, getting up to gather her clothes and the wheelchair. "And she is almost out of queries, yes. The administration is done, the house is clean, the only thing left is paint some rooms."
"That will take up some more time then."
"I told her not to pay me," I go on, knowing she needs me to talk in order to get out of bed. If we're quiet she pays too much attention to the fact that I'm helping her out and am touching her. It's basically the only time of the day where I tell her more than I have to.
"What did she say?" She wonders as I slide my arm around her and help her scout to the end of the bed and sit down.
"That she still needs help with her daughter who I thought was nice and quiet but is actually a bit bitchy," I explain, putting on her trousers as I crouch down.
"A bitch? Isn't she like ten?"
"Well, yes, I think some woman are born a bitch, don't you think?" I ask, finishing up on her shoes.
"No, I don't think so," she says, smiling a bit as I help her stand up.
"Just a few steps," I mumble, feeling her weight lean on me and eventhough there's not much left of her, it's still rather heavy to almost carry her.
"I got it," she snaps, and with that she sits down, exhaling at the exercise and power this costs her.
"I see," I say, taking a breath.
"You'll be fine with the child," she then goes on to say.
"Yes, I'm sure," I laugh. "I don't believe I'm cut out for children."
"You might be surprised."
"Don't think so, but outside it is then?"
"Yes, outside, please," she says and I wheel her out of the house and out on the porch where I find a seat next to her where we sit for the rest of the morning, reading articles online and back to not telling each other much, but secretly enjoying each other's company more than we should with her end coming closer.
****
Alex
"Thank God it was furnished and we don't need to sort that out as well," Liam says as he's cleaning out the kitchen.
"Yeah," I mumble, going through the shit we kept in our drawer in the living.
For the past hour me and Liam packed most of our stuff in the living room and we're slowly going to the kitchen and lastly the bedroom which I dread. I remember so well how we visited this place and he wanted to make sure that I liked and I did. Even then I was picturing myself here with him when I never made plans to come back permanently or to get back together with Harry. He on the other hand had also been house shopping with Susie. So many questions come to mind when I think back to those few weeks spent in England. That I didn't had a clue he was having a side chick, and that when I came to live here I truly believed I was home. Now I'm without a home and without Harry, and maybe practise makes perfect, because I'm dealing with it better than the first time we broke up.
Most of the stuff we own is rubbish and I throw it away almost immediately. Bills, advertisements of food stuff we wanted to order or visit, tickets to movies he went to, stuff from his work. Neither of it matters or holds value. The only thing I keep for Harry's sake are his paintings and photo's that are too dear to throw away.
"Here," I say, giving Liam a photograph of us that was taken at Harry's birthday a few months ago. "You can keep that one."
"Thanks," he says, smiling as he looks at the two of us. "I'll put that on the wall. Which makes me realize I don't even have a picture printed of me and Nina."
"Are you two okay?" I wonder.
Since living with them for a month I have seen them fight maybe three times which is something surreal for me to witness. They can be very close, almost tight up in each other and then other moments they seem perfectly content with minding their own business. Nina is almost finished with her school, searching for a job as a graphic designer, and Liam works irregular shifts and there are days where they barely see each other due to his different work hours. Still, they seem more in love than ever.
"Yes, we very much are. Still not sick of the two of us?"
"Only when I hear you at night," I joke.
"Never going to apologize for that."
"I was thinking of something for my own. I mean, I lived alone in Palas too," I admit to Liam, a bit scared for his reaction.
"But how will you pay for it?" Liam wonders, rightfully so.
"No clue. Guess I first have to find a job."
"Or use Harry's mother's money," Liam says, smiling as he does.
"Of course not. I haven't received it yet, and I doubt I will. And even if I do, I'm not going to use it. Not a penny."
"Do you have any clue how she's doing?" I shake my head, pushing the image of a heartbroken Harry to the back of my mind. "Maybe you'll find out if you are bringing his stuff."
"We decided to send it. He hasn't offered me an explanation for anything, Liam and I'm not going to meet up with him when he's with his mother. I won't be able to think straight."
"That's probably true. But you also haven't really given him the chance to explain, have you?" Liams says and it surprises me to hear him sort of stick up for Harry.
"I did, right here and he had already given up. All he did was call and text to ask me to come back. I don't call that fighting for me, he already knew I wasn't going to come back."
"He's a dick," Liam says, suddenly done with the conversation or maybe just ready to get this going again. It is his only free day this week and he's spending it packing stuff that partly belongs to a guy he hates. "Living room done?"
"Yes, I'm going to the bathroom and bedroom next."
"I'm almost done here, then I'll join you."
I watch the boxes full with our cutlery and plates that I'll send back to Harry since he bought them when he moved in. There's only so little stuff that's actually mine that the need to start something for my own is only growing. It's a foreign feeling to me, but it keeps me going to sort out his stuff.
The bathroom is easy as almost all of it is gone already except for the towels and some of our fragrances and shower gels. I sort them out equally and take a little bit longer on this task than needed, but in the end I can't keep putting it off and clean up our bedroom. Starting with the easy part of bed sheets and pillows, for a moment doubting if I'm going to keep his pillow before putting it in one of Harry's boxes. Then what is left of his clothes as most must be with him in Cambridge already. It costs strength to not keep some of his shirts, just to sleep in, but again I succeed in separating myself from them and giving them back.
"Woah, you are quite far already," Liam says as he enters the room. All the drawers are open and everything is scattered around the place, but it's almost done.
"You took your time," I tell him, thinking of how much I sidetracked this.
"Yeah," he says, scratching the back of his head. "Facetimed Nina for a bit. This is all rather depressing."
"It's okay. I didn't bother speeding up either although it looks like it."
"I'll pack your clothes, then you can do the nightstands."
"Then we're done, Liam. Done."
I thought this would be much more difficult. Finding stuff about him, or hidden booze. There's none of that, nothing to really rattle me and test me, that is until I open his drawer next to his bed. It's a notebook I never noticed before, maybe because all the sketches are of myself and most of them are of me when I'm asleep. Some are only of parts of my body, my legs, my stomach, a portion of my arm and back, my breasts, my eyes, my lips, my hair pushed behind my ear. I know it is all me, and I need a moment to sit down.
The drawer is full with notebooks, the other ones hold portraits of people he must hold dear. Some are of myself again, some of his mother and his sister. There's even one of Liam that I show him. I realize that I'm looking through his stuff that is private since he never told me about this, but he must know that I'd find it when I offered to pack his stuff too. He didn't hesitate at all when I proposed. The last one I find is a sketch of my father and for a split second he's here in the room with me. With just the use of a pencil he brought my father back to life if even for a second.
"You should take that out," Liam says. "It is for you."
"Is it?" I wonder with a frown and he points to the back of the piece of paper. For Alex, with the date of my father's passing written on it.
"Maybe he meant to give it to you on his anniversary?"
"Maybe," I mumble, carefully tearing the paper out of the notebook. "It says Alex though, so."
The entire drawer is filled with scribbles of lettering, little symbols, everything having to do with tattooing. I give it all back although it pains me the most. Especially the notebook full with myself. It is weird to look at your own body, but watching it I can almost feel him near me, his hands circling and exploring my skin, taking it in so that once I was asleep he could draw it to never forget. I know I'll never forget and I take my time organizing his boxes. Liam found the letter of his mother notary in the kitchen and I place it on top of the first box and write a little note to go with it.
Slowly we work our way out of the flat, leaving no trace of Harry and I ever living here. Luckily I was able to borrow Nick's car and it is loaded with our stuff. I leave the key on the little side table as discussed with Harry over text and then I close the door, not looking back as we drive to the post office.