Me Before You

All but one of the reporters cleared off by half past seven. I didn’t know if they had given up, or if Thomas’s habit of posting bits of Lego out of the letter box every time they passed another note through had become boring. I told Louisa to bath Thomas for me, mainly because I wanted her to get out of the kitchen, but also because that way I could go through all the messages on our answerphone and delete the newspaper ones while she couldn’t hear me. Twenty-six. Twenty-six of the buggers. And all sounding so nice, so understanding. Some of them even offered her money.

I pressed delete on every one. Even those offering money, although I admit I was a teeny bit tempted to see how much they were offering. All the while, I heard Lou talking to Thomas in the bathroom, the whine and splash of him dive-bombing his six inches of soapsuds with the Batmobile. That’s the thing you don’t know about children unless you have them – bath time, Lego and fish fingers don’t allow you to dwell on tragedy for too long. And then I hit the last message.

‘Louisa? It’s Camilla Traynor. Will you call me? As soon as possible?’

I stared at the answerphone. I rewound and replayed it. Then I ran upstairs and whipped Thomas out of the bath so fast my boy didn’t even know what hit him. He was standing there, the towel wrapped tightly around him like a compression bandage, and Lou, stumbling and confused, was already halfway down the stairs, me pushing her by the shoulder.

‘What if she hates me?’

‘She didn’t sound like she hated you.’

‘But what if the press are surrounding them there? What if they think it’s all my fault?’ Her eyes were wide and terrified. ‘What if she’s ringing to tell me he’s done it?’

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Lou. For once in your life, just get a grip. You won’t know anything unless you call. Call her. Just call. You don’t have a bloody choice.’

I ran back into the bathroom, to set Thomas free. I shoved him into his pyjamas, told him that Granny had a biscuit for him if he ran to the kitchen super fast. And then I peered out of the bathroom door, to peek at my sister on the phone down in the hallway.

She was turned away from me, one hand smoothing the hair at the back of her head. She reached out a hand to steady herself.

‘Yes,’ she was saying. ‘I see.’ And then, ‘Okay.’

And after a pause, ‘Yes.’

She looked down at her feet for a good minute after she’d put the phone down.

‘Well?’ I said.

She looked up as if she’d only just seen me there, and shook her head.

‘It was nothing about the newspapers,’ she said, her voice still numb with shock. ‘She asked me – begged me – to come to Switzerland. And she’s booked me on to the last flight out this evening.’

26

In other circumstances I suppose it might have seemed strange that I, Lou Clark, a girl who had rarely been more than a bus ride from her home town in twenty years, was now flying to her third country in less than a week. But I packed an overnight case with the swift efficiency of an air stewardess, rejecting all but the barest necessities. Treena ran around silently fetching any other things she thought I might need, and then we headed downstairs. We stopped halfway down. Mum and Dad were already in the hall, standing side by side in the ominous way they used to do when we sneaked back late from a night out.

‘What’s going on?’ Mum was staring at my case.

Treena had stopped in front of me.

‘Lou’s going to Switzerland,’ she said. ‘And she needs to leave now. There’s only one flight left today.’

We were about to move when Mum stepped forward.

‘No.’ Her mouth was set into an unfamiliar line, her arms folded awkwardly in front of her. ‘Really. I don’t want you involved. If this is what I think it is, then no.’

‘But –’ Treena began, glancing behind at me.

‘No,’ said Mum, and her voice held an unusually steely quality. ‘No buts. I’ve been thinking about this, about everything you told us. It’s wrong. Morally wrong. And if you get embroiled in it and you’re seen to be helping a man kill himself, then you could end up in all sorts of trouble.’

‘Your mum’s right,’ Dad said.

‘We’ve seen it in the news. This could affect your whole life, Lou. This college interview, everything. If you get a criminal record, you will never get a college degree or a good job or anything –’

‘He’s asked for her to come. She can’t just ignore him,’ Treena interrupted.

‘Yes. Yes, she can. She’s given six months of her life to this family. And a fat lot of good it’s brought her, judging by the state of things. A fat lot of good it’s brought this family, with people banging on the door and all the neighbours thinking we’ve been done for benefit fraud or some such. No, she’s finally got the chance to make something of herself, and now they want her to go to that dreadful place in Switzerland and get involved in God knows what. Well, I say no. No, Louisa.’

‘But she has to go,’ Treena said.