All I Have Left of You Read online

  ‘Yeah, he was a real dick.’

  ‘But he had such a pretty dick,’ she said wistfully. ‘I wish

  I’d got his dick in the divorce.’

  I laughed. ‘I’m sure we’ll find you one that’s even prettier one day!’

  ‘That’s the dream!’

  ‘You know, I really want to thank you, Roanna,’ I said.

  She raised a brow and took back another swig of wine. ‘What for?’

  ‘For doing this with me. The bucket list,’ I replied. The reason my friends were coming over tonight was to plan everything, to book flights, hotels, etcetera. ‘It really means a lot to me. I know you don’t have to do it.’

  ‘Lina, I’d do anything for you. And for Michael. He was an amazing man.’

  I smiled at the warmth of my friend’s words. ‘He was, wasn’t he?’

  Roanna nodded and placed her wine on the coffee table. ‘You know, I actually give Michael partial credit for giving me the courage to divorce Eric.’

  I raised a brow. ‘You do?’

  ‘Yep. When Michael was going through his treatment, I came over in tears one afternoon looking for you. You were out running errands, but Michael was up and awake, so he invited me in to wait for you. I made us both a cup of tea, and we talked. I told him how much I loved Eric but how much of myself it felt like I’d lost loving him and trying to trust him again. He told me there and then to divorce him.’ She paused, and her eyes started to shine with tears. ‘He told me that I deserved more. He told me how much he loved you, and how he hadn’t had to lose himself to do so. Instead, he’d found himself, loving you. I decided I wanted -deserved- that. I left straight away and told Eric I wanted a divorce that night.’

  ‘Wow,’ I breathed. ‘I never knew that.’

  ‘I don’t know why I didn’t tell you before. I suppose I had a lot going on, and so did you. But your husband’s words helped me find myself again. And I’ll never, ever forget that. So no matter what’s on that bucket list of his, we’re doing it.’

  It was another hour before Kit arrived, so it worked out well that I hadn’t made the risotto as planned.

  ‘So sorry I’m late, Lina.’ She was full of apologies when she came through the door, and she seemed so distracted by that and the session with Pete that she didn’t even comment on my ridiculous sunburn. She’d even brought two bottles of prosecco as an apology.

  ‘Oh, you didn’t have to do that,’ I said kindly, putting the bottles in the fridge to chill.

  ‘I did. I was awful the last time I saw you. And, now I am

  late,’ she chastised herself.

  I wrapped her in a hug. ‘Don’t be silly. I’m grateful you’re here, Kit.’

  ‘How did it go with Pete?’ Roanna asked gently, once we were all sat on the balcony eating our salad. The sun was setting, and the cool breeze that passed kissed my sunburn and rustled through my hair.

  Kit nodded and swallowed a mouthful of feta and olives before responding. ‘It was alright, I guess. He opened up about why he did it.’

  ‘And what did he say the reason was?’ I asked.

  ‘He said he feels like we haven’t been intimate since the twins were born, which we haven’t really, I suppose,’ she said, sounding a little glum.

  Roanna scoffed. ‘That’s bullshit. Loads of men have children, and they don’t cheat.’

  I shot her a warning look when Kit wasn’t looking. Roanna rolled her eyes.

  ‘I know. They don’t,’ Kit agreed. ‘He said I don’t seem like his wife anymore, that I treat him like my third child.’

  ‘Do you think you do?’ I questioned.

  Kit sighed and shrugged. ‘I don’t know. If I do, it’s not intentional. He said that I never make time for him, that he plans romantic nights for me and I just blow them off. But I’ve been so exhausted, you know? He works all day, sitting down in an office talking to other adults, and then when I get home from work with children, I come home to more children, with loads of books to mark, tea to cook, children to bathe and play with and by the end of it all I’m just knackered. A couple of scented candles and a bubble bath once in a blue moon doesn’t help as much as he thinks it does.’

  ‘Does he help with the twins?’ Roanna asked.

  ‘He does, but he does all the fun stuff with them. And don’t even get me started on the school holidays when I’m not at work. He’ll tell me I have to get up with them in the night because he’s up for work, but he doesn’t get how difficult it is when I’m with them on my own all day. I love them to bits, they’re my children, and they’re my life. But I didn’t expect to have to do most things by myself.’

  ‘Have you said all this to him?’ I wondered, taking a sip of my wine.

  ‘I did in therapy,’ she replied. ‘And then he complained that I hadn’t told him and that he wasn’t a mind reader.’

  Roanna and I groaned simultaneously. ‘Men!’

  ‘I know, right?’ Kit washed back the last of her wine and poured herself another glass.

  ‘So, where does all of that leave you two?’ I asked. ‘Are you gonna try and work on things?’

  Kit pursed her lips. ‘I’ll keep going to therapy, but he’s in the spare room for now. He’s not the same person to me at

  the moment.’ She paused, and then she perked up and forced herself to smile. ‘Anyway, I’m done talking about Pete for now. Let’s plan the trip!’

  To my surprise, after two bottles of wine and two bottles of prosecco, we actually managed to get a plan in place and book some flights, to the right places and everything.

  We booked a flight to Las Vegas for the first weekend in August, where we would ride the Stratosphere, and then a flight from there to Miami four days after that to go diving with sharks. The idea of being in such close proximity to a toothy predator of the sea panicked me, but I wanted to do this for Michael. The thought of doing something for him made my heart swell which eliminated the fear. Well, mostly. They were sharks, after all.

  Climbing Mont Blanc was a bit trickier. For that, you needed climbing experience which none of us had, plus my budget was running out quickly after booking the flights to America, so I decided to stick a pin in that one and approach it another time. Just because I didn’t do it straight away, it didn’t mean I wouldn’t do it. I intended to finish every single item on that list.

  I went to bed at about one in the morning after the girls had left, feeling tipsy and giddy about our upcoming plans. ‘I wish you were here, Michael,’ I whispered as I tucked Mikey underneath my neck and rested my chin against the top of his soft, fluffy head. I’d sprayed him with some of Michael’s aftershave a while ago, and a hint of it still came through. ‘You’d be so excited. I can’t wait to do all this stuff for you, but I so wish you’d been able to do it for yourself. I’m living for you, sweetheart. It’s all for you. God, I miss you.’

  Chapter Seven

  8th April 2006

  The year that followed our first kiss was the best I’d ever had.

  Michael and I fell into being a couple naturally, as though our prior years of friendship were just a prelude to our romantic relationship. It was as though it had been inevitable; like we were meant to be together. We spent most of our evenings together, watching films and listening to The Killers and The Libertines, and on Friday nights we’d go to the cinema to watch the new release, although to be honest, we didn’t end up seeing much of film.

  He’d send me sweet messages before he went to bed and first thing when he woke up. My stomach would flip every time his name popped up, and I felt so lucky that my best friend was now my boyfriend.

  We were unbreakable.

  ‘What time is Max meeting us later?’ I asked Michael. It was a sunny Saturday morning and Michael and I were sat in the living room at my house. As always, we had plans with Max later that night. Just because we’d become a couple, it didn’t mean we spent any less time with our best friend.

  ‘About seven, I think, but this might be his last Sat
urday with us for a bit,’ he said, but he had a smile on his face.

  ‘Why?’ I asked, frowning. Our Saturday nights together were a tradition.

  ‘He’s got a date next weekend,’ Michael said with a grin.

  My eyes went wide with excited happiness for our best friend. ‘With who? That girl he’s been talking to from Music?’

  Max had taken Music for his GCSE’s and he’d recently been talking to a girl named Josie. We’d spent a couple of break times with her, and she seemed really nice. She had long, dark, curly hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a warm smile. I could tell she fancied the pants off Max; she laughed at everything he said, even when it wasn’t all that funny.

  Michael nodded. ‘Yeah. They’re going to see that new film with Hugh Grant, I think.’

  ‘I wonder if they’ll see as much of the film as we would,’ I said with a giggle.

  Michael’s eyes widened with a mischievous smile, and he scooted closer to me on the sofa. He lifted my legs and placed them across his, running his fingers up and down my thighs. I smiled and rested my head on the arm of the sofa, shutting my eyes. ‘Well,’ he began. His voice trembled just a touch as he spoke. It piqued my curiosity. ‘I was thinking that with Max not with us next week, it will just be you and me.’

  I smiled. ‘That will be nice. We’ve never had a Saturday evening just us.’ It sounded blissful. We could kiss as much as we wanted without feeling like we were grossing Max out or putting him off his pizza.

  ‘Yeah,’ he carried on, but his voice was so low it was almost just a breath. ‘On Saturday nights my parents usually go out, and we’ll have the whole house to ourselves, just you and me…,’ he trailed off. His fingers had stopped tickling and were now tenderly massaging my thighs. It sent tingles running all over my body and opened a pool of excitement in my stomach.

  That was why we always chose Michael’s house for our Saturday nights; we had the lounge all to ourselves with the big TV. They’d been going out with some friends his mum had met through work every Saturday for almost a year and a half now.

  I let his words sink in, and then I started to realise what Michael was trying to say. My eyes snapped open. ‘What? You mean… sex?’

  I thought I’d whispered it, but Michael’s look of horror told me I hadn’t been as quiet as I’d assumed. ‘Shush!’ he urged in a hushed tone, but his eyes were half-lit with laughter. ‘Your mum is upstairs! She could have heard!’

  I put a hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing too loud. Michael laughed too.

  Once we’d calmed down, I asked quietly, ‘Is that what you meant?’

  A pinch of pink crept into Michael’s cheeks, and he raised his eyebrows and nodded. But he looked a little anxious, as though afraid I might say no. ‘What do you think?’ he said after a few moments. He chewed his lip, and I could feel his pulse racing against my hand.

  The thought of having sex with Michael gave me only one reaction: excitement. I didn’t need to be nervous because I knew Michael would look after me. I knew he’d be soft, tender, and above all, loving. With a broad smile, I nodded.

  With no close girlfriends to talk to, I spent the next week looking on the internet in my room. As soon as I’d finished tea with my parents, I’d rush upstairs, claiming that I had homework to do, and then I’d spend an hour or two on various sites, trying to figure out what to expect the following Saturday.

  Initially, I’d been nothing but excited about having sex with Michael. I’d dreamed about it, fantasised about it, and whenever we’d been doing other stuff, we’d both had to try hard not to go all the way. But after reading some of the accounts I’d seen online of other girls’ first times, I was more than a little nervous.

  Words like ‘blood’, ‘pain’, and ‘hurts’ jumped out from the screen, and I suddenly imagined the worst; Michael’s bed covered in blood, me screaming out in pain as Michael wondered what on earth he’d done wrong. Apparently, it was normal to bleed the first time if the hymen was still intact, but I’d also read that this could have broken when using tampons. I seriously hoped it had. I didn’t know how we’d explain it to Michael’s mum if she found blood on his bed sheets.

  I’d then read that it might be a good idea to use a lubricant, or lube, as people at school called it, to ease the pain the first time. The article I’d read even pointed out which ones were best and where you could buy them, but when I pictured myself adding it to my basket in Boots along with 99p facemasks and kohl eyeliner, I blushed violently and shut the idea down almost instantly.

  I’d also read about contraception, and decided to make an appointment with the local nurse to go on the pill as soon as possible. I was happy enough just using condoms to start with, but knowing we had two methods of contraception in place would certainly put me more at ease.

  That Friday evening, Michael and I took the train to Manchester City Centre after school. I headed off to the Arndale shopping centre to find something nice to wear for the occasion, while he said he’d take care of all the practical stuff.

  I didn’t have much money to spend. I’d spent most of my pocket money on a new CD, and only had about seven pounds and fifty pence left. That ruled out any expensive shops, so I ultimately ended up in Primark after trailing around the Arndale with no luck. I didn’t want to buy something that would make me look slutty, so I stayed away from red and animal print. There were loads of lacy slips and boob-enhancing bras, but after much deliberation, I decided on something simple. The matching set was light blue lace. I’d chosen it because I thought the blue would bring out my eyes, and it looked classier and more subtle than any of the other garish pink or bright red garments.

  Pleased with my purchase, I headed back to meet Michael outside Starbucks.

  ‘Hey, you,’ he said as he saw me approaching. He wrapped me in his arms and planted a long kiss on my lips. I melted into it and suddenly felt a million times better about the following night. The nerves were still there, lurking beneath the surface, but Michael had squashed them somewhat and had reignited my initial excitement.

  ‘That was a nice way to say hello,’ I said with a smile when he pulled away.

  ‘I couldn’t resist,’ he said, still staring at my lips. I could feel a buzzing between us, a tension that I’d not felt before, and suddenly I didn’t want to wait twenty-four hours to have sex with him.

  Saturday morning came.

  Sunlight seeped into my room through the lime curtains, brightening the lemon walls, creating a pool of light on the cream carpet. Birds chirped outside, and the smell of bacon crept under my door. Any minute now, my mum or dad would shout up that the bacon sandwiches were ready, and I’d rush downstairs in my dressing gown to wolf it down and follow it with a cup of tea with two sugars. It was how Saturdays ran in the Lawrence household. We’d sit around the kitchen table together and chat. Just a normal Saturday.

  But today wasn’t a normal Saturday, not at all.

  ‘Elina!’ Dad called up. ‘It’s ready!’

  I climbed out of bed, grabbing my lilac dressing gown from the hook on the back of my door. It smelled like apples. Mum had apple air fresheners in every room in the house. Michael said that was my smell, and that whenever I’d left anything at his, it would have that typical ‘Lina apple smell’.

  ‘Coming!’ I called back as I headed downstairs and into the kitchen.

  ‘Morning, love,’ Mum said as she poured boiling water into three white mugs. She was in her dressing gown too, buried beneath the soft blue.

  ‘Morning,’ I replied, taking a seat at the glossy white breakfast bar.

  Mum and Dad had had the kitchen done after Christmas. All the cupboards were white and shiny like the breakfast bar, and the floor was covered with dark grey tiles. The walls were painted light grey, and French doors led out to the brightly coloured back garden. Dad always planted flowers in the spring, and oranges, pinks, and blues brought life to the vibrant green of the grass.

  ‘Did you sleep well?’ Dad asked as h
e pulled the bacon out of the pan with tongs and placed a couple of rashers each on white, floury teacakes. He was already dressed in a dark blue shirt and black trousers. He was the sort of man who got up with the sun and showered and dressed as soon as he awoke. I took after my mum who tended to lounge around in her pyjamas until lunchtime at the earliest.

  ‘Not bad,’ I said, stifling a yawn. I hadn’t slept badly, but excitement and nerves awoke me from dreams about tonight with Michael. Some of them had been mortifying, and Michael had found himself unable to go through with it after seeing me completely naked. Others had been blissful, and I’d cursed upon waking up, wanting to lose myself back in the dream. ‘What are you doing today?’

  ‘I thought I’d go and see your grandma and grandad after breakfast, do you want to come?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Maybe, are you going too, Dad?’ I asked.

  Dad shook his head. ‘It’s a perfect morning for some golf, I think.’

  I nodded. ‘It is a nice day. I think I’ll sit outside in the garden with a book. Is it okay if I don’t come to Grandma’s, Mum? She never has the windows open, and it looks like it might be warm today.’ They lived over an hour away, and I didn’t quite fancy the long journey either.

  ‘That’s fine, sweetheart,’ she said with a light laugh. ‘I’ll send them your love.’

  With Mum and Dad out of the house, I spent a few more hours on the internet in my stuffy bedroom with The Killers playing low. It turned out to be a hot day for April, and I had the window open as wide as it would go. Every now and again a breeze would pass, rustle my curtains, and brush against my clammy skin, bringing the smell of freshly cut grass inside with it. Lawnmowers buzzed outside, and children laughed as they played with water bombs made from balloons and balls that bounced on the pavements with a ‘whump’.

  When it got to two ‘o clock, I decided enough was enough. There was only so much reading I could do about what to expect the first time you have sex. The only thing I could do was experience it for myself, and I was lucky enough to have someone amazing to share it with me, to make me as comfortable as possible.