Everything is Beautiful Eleanor Ray (best manga ereader .TXT) 📖

away with it,’ said Amy, unwilling to talk about herself. ‘For all these years.’ She paused. ‘And you just disappeared.’

‘Mum gave me enough money to tide me over,’ said Chantel. ‘Everything she had. I was so careful. No credit cards, no mobile phones. Nothing that could be traced to me. It wasn’t that much to leave, not really. My life was a mess, you know that. I was leaving behind a dead-end job that I hated. An abusive relationship. Half a bag of weed hidden in my sock drawer and a pile of debt. You and my mum were the only good things I had left. I thought I was doing the right thing by you. Keeping you safe.’

‘Where did you go?’ asked Amy, her voice a little softer.

‘Wales,’ said Chantel. ‘It was a fresh start, a clean slate. I got a job in a local pub, cash in hand, that came with a room upstairs. The landlord was a widower, and ever so kind. Things started to look up.’

Amy looked at her. She knew Chantel well.

‘Yes, we got together,’ admitted Chantel. ‘We’ve got two kids. I told Rhys everything, of course. More or less.’ She paused. ‘Can we have that wine?’ asked Chantel. She was looking at Amy and Amy realised Chantel didn’t just want wine.

She wanted forgiveness.

‘No,’ said Amy. ‘I don’t think so.’ She paused, watching Chantel’s face.

‘I understand,’ said Chantel. ‘Perhaps I had better leave now?’ Amy hesitated. Part of her wanted to tell Chantel everything.

That she’d been waiting for Tim all these years, a part of her always hoping he’d come back. She wanted to say that she didn’t think she could love again after the betrayal she’d felt. That she’d never been able to completely let go because she could never be certain what had happened. That instead she’d collected her treasures and cared for them. Because they made her feel almost happy at times and they could never leave her. Like Chantel had left her. And like Tim had too, albeit she now knew it was not of his own volition. Perhaps if she’d known the truth, she would have moved on, instead of being fossilised inside this house, surrounding herself with belongings that made her remember a past long gone.

Chantel hadn’t fossilised. Chantel had known the truth. She’d started a family. Even had a house in Wales, like she said she always wanted.

Amy was angry. Perhaps she always would be. But there was something else she felt too, her heart beating a little more fully, as if a vital component had been returned. Tim wasn’t the only person she’d desperately missed over the past eleven years.

‘Maybe you can have some wine,’ she said. ‘Just a glass.’ Chantel beamed at her, but Amy found she wasn’t ready to smile back. Instead she turned to the kitchen to fetch the wine. Chantel followed her.

‘I like what you’ve done with the place,’ said Chantel, deadpan. It was so inappropriate for Chantel to criticise her and yet so intensely Chantel that Amy burst into something that was half a laugh, half a sob. ‘I don’t know why I said that,’ said Chantel. ‘Sorry. There must be something wrong with me.’

Amy poured the wine and handed a glass to Chantel. She refilled her own glass and took a nervous sip, wishing it were brandy.

‘You live here alone?’ asked Chantel, eyeing up the towers of mugs doubtfully. ‘You’ve never . . . met someone?’

The doorbell rang before Amy could reply. ‘I can’t believe you’ve kept that awful bell,’ said Chantel, with an awkward laugh.

‘I kept what I could,’ said Amy.

Chantel went to hug Amy, but Amy backed away. ‘No,’ she said.

‘I’ll get the door.’

Amy walked into her hallway and tripped over an empty wine bottle. She went to pick it up. It was perfectly ordinary. Glass, bottle-shaped. She held it to the light. A pleasant enough shade of green, but nothing special. She hesitated a second, then went back to the kitchen and put it next to the bin. She’d take it to the recycling centre tomorrow. It, and about a hundred others. And some newspapers. And maybe even some of the clocks that didn’t tick. It was just stuff, after all. Stuff that she didn’t need and weighed her down. Stuff that she would need to get rid of to make room for other things in her life. No. Not other things.

People.

Amy released the catch to the door. She knew the truth. It wasn’t a happy ending, but at least it was an ending.

It would be Richard, thought Amy, remembering again the feeling of his hand on her arm. She needed to talk to someone, someone who wasn’t Chantel. It was so much to take in.

She swung the door open, but it wasn’t Richard she saw.

It was DCI Jack Hooper.

June 2008

Amy decided that she was glad Tim hadn’t picked her up at the airport. Even as she heaved her heavy suitcase on to the train, she told herself it was a good thing. She’d be bound to blurt out her news, in front of the hubbub of people. It would be better to wait. Tonight, back home.

Or maybe tomorrow. Amy was tired and sweaty and didn’t fancy a big conversation. She wanted a shower and then to curl up next to Tim on the sofa, feeling his warm body against hers. Then to go to sleep in bed next to him. She’d hardly slept since she’d found out, and had put it down to a mixture of excitement and hormones. And missing Tim. Being in bed and listening to his breathing was what she needed for proper sleep. Then tomorrow she’d make a special meal for dinner and tell him. Anything but pasta. That was the plan.

It was perfect.

The train ride seemed to take for ever. She had to travel into