After the Fall by Julie Cohen

Author:Julie Cohen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Chapter Twenty-One

Lydia

As soon as Mum got home, Lydia ran to Avril’s house. All she could think about was what Granny H had said. How she’d loved without hope or reason. How she’d never found anyone else, for forty-five years. The expression on her face when Lydia had brought down the letters, the way she had touched the envelopes as if they were a person, fragile and immeasurably precious.

They had only read one letter out of the eight, the one with the earliest postmark. It had been written the Christmas after her father had died, and the thing about it was that it sounded so normal. It had news about his family, his three daughters and their children, who were Lydia’s cousins, now that she thought of it. Nothing about it would hint that it was the letter of a father to his son, except for the last line: I think about you often, and hope one day to meet again. And for the way Granny H had looked when Lydia had read it to her: greedy, drinking in every word, tears shining in her eyes.

Lydia ran faster. When she reached Avril’s block of flats, she was out of breath and had to recover for a minute before she pressed the button. Avril appeared almost immediately. ‘Hiya,’ she said, plainly pleased, and for a minute Lydia thought that everything was back to the way it had been last week, before Harry.

‘Want to go for a walk?’ Lydia asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll get my jacket.’

Lydia waited for her outside. She didn’t have her own jacket, and it was a little bit chilly, especially since she’d sweated a bit. She rubbed her hands over her arms and when Avril came down, she gave Lydia her pink hoodie. It smelled of her.

They walked around for a little while, off her estate and across the park. Lydia wasn’t really sure what to say, and the longer she didn’t say anything, the harder it was to start. When she’d been running, she’d had some idea of trying to persuade Avril that Harry wasn’t worth it. But Avril was smiling, like she had a wonderful secret, and there was a bounce in her step.

Jealousy felt awful. It was like burning acid eating away at her insides, destroying every good bit. It made her want to strike out at Avril for being so happy. Except she didn’t want to get into an argument. She didn’t even want to mention Harry, because Avril would be able to tell she was jealous, but she knew that Avril was dying for her to ask about him, so she’d have an excuse to talk about him. She wanted to feel his name in her mouth, like Lydia felt Avril’s name sometimes: the burr of the v on her lips, the kiss of the l on her tongue.

‘How’s your mum?’ Lydia asked finally. ‘Did she go to the parents’ evening?’

It was a mistake. Avril’s face closed up. ‘No. And she’s fine.’

‘Is she out tonight?’

‘She’s working.

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