This Book Made Me Think of You(67)
“It’s my mum’s music too.”
“Leave it, I like it.”
Tilly settles into her seat, leaning her head against the window and humming along to the music.
“What’s your mum like?” she says as the car crawls through the airport traffic.
“Well, you probably guessed it from the car, but Mum is a tiny woman. I got this”—he gestures at his long arms and legs—“from my dad. My sister Tash got the perfect blend of the two of them—she’s a completely normal height.”
“Are you close?”
Alfie nods, keeping his eyes ahead as the lights change.
“We always were, but the three of us became even closer after losing Dad. I try and visit my sister and her family as much as I can. Mum remarried a couple of years ago. I found it a bit strange at first, but Andrew’s a good guy. They’re happy together. I often think how well he and Dad would have got on. Maybe that’s strange…”
“It’s not so strange. They both have your mum in common. It makes sense.”
Alfie glances at Tilly.
“How are things with your sister? Have you spoken yet?”
Her expression clouds.
“Not yet. I just can’t stop thinking about everything she kept from me and how she ignored everything I said about not being ready to date again…”
Alfie shifts in his seat, feeling his hands tense around the wheel.
“We’re supposed to be running the half-marathon together in a few weeks,” Tilly continues, oblivious to the pain between Alfie’s temples, “but I don’t even know if she’s still been training. It’s not been as fun running on my own. And I keep thinking about her. When I was in Scotland, I kept wanting to send photos to her. She would have loved it all in spite of the rain. She’s always been the adventurous one. Maybe that’s why she was so keen to hook me up with some random guy online. Maybe she’s just sick of me being so sad and boring.”
Alfie’s stomach clenches at Tilly’s words and her expression as she stares out of the window.
“How can you not think you’re adventurous?” His words come out a little louder than he’d intended. “Adventures don’t have to mean whitewater rafting or bungee jumping.”
“Harper loves those things…”
“It can mean trying new things. Pushing yourself out of your comfort zone. Signing yourself up for a marathon…”
“Half-marathon.”
“That’s one hundred percent more of a marathon than I’ve ever done. The point is you’ve been going through one of the hardest things anyone ever has to deal with, and yet you haven’t given up. She might have a bad way of expressing it, but I’m certain that Harper is proud of you. People can just be crap at knowing how to deal with someone who is grieving.”
His thoughts turn for a moment to Freya, and it surprises him to realize it’s been a long time since he last thought of her. Tilly drags him firmly back to the present by saying in a quiet voice, “However mad I’ve been at her, I miss her.”
“And I bet she misses you. You two will work it out.”
“I hope so.”
In the quiet of the slow-moving traffic, his thoughts turn to the bookshop, as they so often do. Ever since the letter from the bank, he’s tried to come up with new solutions, but he is running out of time and energy. He might have praised Tilly for not giving up, but perhaps there comes a moment when that’s all there is left to do.
Suddenly, more than anything else, he wants to talk about it. And not talk about it with just anyone, but with Tilly.
“Tilly, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…”
But as he glances at her, he sees that her eyes are closed, her chin slumped to her shoulder. A sound like a purring cat fills the car as she snores contentedly. As he watches her sleeping soundly, the thought of off-loading his own worries seems suddenly selfish. With everything that she has been through, she doesn’t need to deal with his problems too. They’re his to carry, even if sometimes it would be a relief to have someone to help share the load.
* * *
—
“Oh god, did I snore?”
Tilly stretches, rolling her shoulders. The car has stopped, and she realizes they are parked outside her flat.
“Not at all,” replies Alfie, turning off the engine.
“Oh, thank god. Thank you again for coming to get me. If I’d taken the tube, I probably would have fallen asleep and ended up in Morden.”
Watching Alfie climb out of the car is like witnessing a baby giraffe take its first steps. He ducks his head, just about avoiding hitting the roof, then peels himself out, stretching his long limbs. He reaches for her bags in the car’s boot.
“I can take those…”
To her surprise his voice is firm when he says, “I know you can. But you’ve been cycling for two days straight, Tilly, and just fell asleep within two minutes of sitting down. Let me.”
“OK. Well, thank you.”
As she unlocks the front door, it hits her that it’s been a long time since anyone other than her family has stepped inside. She lets him go first up the stairs, following a few steps behind. His broad shoulders brush against both walls in the narrow space. Once they emerge in the living area, he places her bags down on the floor and looks around. She watches him taking it all in: the craft corner and sofas covered in crocheted blankets, the books, and the fairy lights. His attention lingers on the pair of running shoes on the bookshelves.