‘You’ve got everything,’ Leonie says as I open The Folder and flick through the documents. ‘I’ve seen you check it at least five times already.’
‘I know,’ I say, pulling out my phone and tapping on the airline’s app to double-check the online boarding passes. ‘It just feels weird not having much stuff printed out. I mean, what if my phone broke?’
‘It’s more likely to break with you checking it every two minutes,’ Elyse says. ‘It’s all fine. If anything happened to your phone, I could access the app on mine. Stop worrying.’
I stare out of the taxi window, but it’s early and still dark and there’s no one on the street. I look at the back of Mum’s head – she’s in the front with the driver – and think she must be asleep because she hasn’t said a word since we got in the car. Actually, she didn’t even say much before we got in the car. Just drank some coffee and grabbed her bag and followed the three of us outside when the taxi arrived.
I open The Folder again and Leonie nudges me. ‘Give it a rest, Mil. You’re stressing me out.’
I close The Folder, but run over its contents in my head again instead.
We check in with no problems. I was worried about the weight of our bags, particularly Leonie’s, but it’s fine, and then head to security. We have to stand for a couple of minutes while Leonie drinks the rest of the bottle of water she’s brought with her, so she can throw it in the recycling, and then we head for the gates.
‘Boarding passes?’ Mum says, turning to me.
‘They’re on my phone,’ I tell her, taking it out of my pocket for what feels like the fiftieth time this morning.
I tap on my boarding card, hold it over the scanner and pass through the gates. But then I’m on the far side with my phone and everyone else’s boarding cards.
‘Um,’ I say.
‘Pass the phone back over and one of you scan everyone else through,’ a guard tells me. I pass my phone to Mum, feeling a flicker of anxiety in case she drops it.
Mum tries to scan the boarding card but nothing happens.
‘Give it to –’ I start to say, but then realise I can’t do anything because I’m on the wrong side of the barrier.
‘I can’t …’ Mum says. ‘It’s not …’
‘You need to scroll it!’ I say. ‘That’ll still be mine.’
Mum pokes at my phone and the urge to reach over and grab it is so strong.
‘Scroll it!’ I say.
‘I’m trying,’ she says, through her teeth.
The security guy reaches over and takes the phone and scrolls before letting the three of them through and then giving the phone to Mum.
‘Give it to me,’ I say, almost snatching it out of her hand.
‘Jeez,’ Leonie says. ‘You really should’ve had a coffee before we left the house.’
I shake my head. ‘Sorry. I just … it’s not hard.’
‘It’s fine,’ Leonie says. ‘We’re on the other side. Now you get to pull the stick out of your ass and relax.’
But first we have to go through the security check, which I’ve always hated. I feel guilty even though I know I’ve done nothing wrong. When I can see my bag on the scanner I always expect to see the X-ray of a gun or a shitload of cocaine. I hold my breath as I walk through and then pick up my bag, put my shoes back on and breathe a sigh of relief.
‘Where are we going to have breakfast?’ Leonie asks, once we’re all through.
‘That place looks nice,’ Elyse says, pointing at a cafe, half open to the departures lounge, with white subway-tile walls and pale wood tables.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Mum says, looking across at the Starbucks. ‘I don’t want anything to eat, just a coffee.’
‘I’m pretty sure they do coffee,’ Elyse says, pointing at the blackboard menu.
‘Do they do takeaway?’ Mum says. ‘I think we probably need to be at the gate.’
‘We’ve got plenty of time,’ Leonie says, looking up at the flight information screen. ‘The gate hasn’t even been announced yet.’
Mum nods and follows the three of us into the cafe. We sit down under a huge mirror, Elyse and Mum with their backs to it, Leonie and I opposite.
‘I’m having a full English,’ Elyse says, holding up the huge white menu. ‘I’m starved.’
I’m not at all hungry, but know that if I don’t eat anything I’ll be hungry on the flight. I scan the menu, but nothing appeals.
‘I might just have a pastry,’ I say. ‘I’ll go and order. Then I can have a look. Mum? Do you know what you want?’
‘Just a cappuccino,’ she says. ‘No chocolate.’
‘I’ll come with,’ Leonie says.
We shove our chairs back and I take a menu with me.
‘I don’t want anything,’ Leonie says, as we stand in front of the chiller, looking at the various fancy juices.
‘You have to get something,’ I tell her. ‘Get a chocolate croissant. Or a pain au raisin.’
‘Did you sleep okay?’ she asks me.
I frown. ‘It took me a while to go off, but then I did, yeah. Did you not?’
‘I don’t think I slept at all,’ she says. ‘I’m just going to get a massive coffee.’
‘And a banana,’ I say, picking one out of a basket on the top shelf of the chiller.
She smiles. ‘Okay, Mum.’
‘Go and talk to her,’ I say. ‘I’ll sort this out.’
‘She’s quiet, right?’ Leonie says, dipping her head. ‘Was I too horrible last night?’
I shake my head. ‘I think it needed to be said.’
She grabs my arm, her fingers digging in, and she suddenly looks really young. ‘Do you? Because I wasn’t sure if it was just me. I mean –’
‘What can I get you?’ the woman behind the counter asks. I order for Mum and Elyse and I get toast for myself.
While we’re waiting for the coffees, Leonie says, ‘I’m going to go and apologise.’
‘You want to wait for me?’ I ask her.
She shakes her head. ‘I’m a big girl.’
I grin at her. ‘You’re really not.’
By the time I get to the table with a tray of coffees, spoons and sugar sachets, Mum and Leonie are looking a bit pink and Elyse is looking at her phone.
I sit down. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Mum says. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been a bit –’
‘It’s fine,’ I say, shaking my head and passing everyone their coffees. ‘Can we just forget about it?’
Mum nods, pressing her lips together. ‘But if you ever want to talk …’
‘Yes,’ I say, picking up a sachet and shaking it so the sugar gathers at one end. ‘I will. I promise. It’s fine.’
She stares at me, nibbling on her lips, so I know what she’s going to say before she says it.
‘Did you post your acceptance?’
I look down at my coffee and then back up at Mum. ‘Yes.’
‘You did?’ she says, her eyebrows shooting up.
I nod.
‘When?’ Leonie says.
‘Last night.’ I say. ‘While you were painting your toenails and eating all the cheese.’
‘That’s fantastic,’ Elyse says. ‘Well done.’
‘I’m so proud of you!’ Leonie says, flinging both arms around me and squeezing me so hard that I feel something crack in my neck.
‘It doesn’t mean I’m definitely going,’ I say.
‘Of course not,’ Elyse says. ‘You can change your mind at any time.’ She’s taking the piss, but I decide to let her get away with it.
‘This is so wonderful, Milly,’ Mum says and she looks almost tearful. ‘He would’ve been so proud of you.’
I nod, swallowing around the lump in my throat.
‘Ugh,’ Elyse says. ‘Enough of this. Can we just get into Holiday Mode now?’
Holiday Mode was another of Dad’s things – once we were at the airport, we had to forget all our problems and responsibilities at home and focus on enjoying our time in Italy.
‘Sounds like a plan,’ I say.
As I stir my latte, I look up at the mirror behind Mum’s head. I look tired and pale, but that’s not surprising for this time in the morning. And then I notice something I hadn’t seen when we first sat down: at the bottom of the mirror are the words ‘Pack up! Leave your troubles behind. Let’s fly away.’
I think about the acceptance letter, not posted at all, but packed in a zipped pocket in my suitcase and I think, chance would be a fine thing.
Mum sleeps for most of the flight, while Elyse, Leonie and I read magazines, eat the in-flight meals (out of boredom rather than hunger) and talk about the wedding. Our Aunt Alice was married before, when she was pretty young. She and her husband had our cousin Toby and then split up when he was only a few months old. Toby still sees his dad every now and then, but I don’t think anyone else in the family ever does.
Alice and Stefano have been together for years, but they didn’t decide to get married until recently. It’s been mainly a long-distance relationship too – Alice didn’t want to take Toby out of school and Stefano runs the family restaurant in Rome, so there’s been a lot of back and forth and Toby working there in the holidays. They moved out there permanently the year before last, after Toby did his GCSEs. Stefano had proposed loads of times over the years, but Alice only accepted after they’d been living together for a while.
‘I still don’t know why they’re bothering to get married,’ Leonie says. ‘But I’m glad they are. I love a wedding.’
‘I think it’s nice,’ Elyse says. ‘They want to commit to each other. In front of everyone.’
‘But they were already committed,’ Leonie says. ‘Alice and Toby gave everything up and moved to Rome. That’s pretty committed.’
‘Yeah,’Elyse says. ‘I guess …’ She turns a page of the copy of Elle she’s flicking through and says, ‘Me and Robbie are thinking of getting a place together.’
Leonie and I stare at her and eventually, after she’s turned at least ten pages, she looks up at us. ‘What?’
‘You and Robbie?’ I ask.
‘Moving in together?’ Leonie adds.
Elyse smiles. ‘Yeah. What’s wrong with that? It’s about time I left home, Robbie needs somewhere to live, we get on great, we can share the bills … I mean, it wouldn’t just be us, we’d have to have flatmates – but there’s this guy at college –’
‘Elyse,’ Leonie interrupts, putting her hand on Elyse’s arm, ‘I don’t think Robbie will like it when you bring other boys home …’
I laugh, but Elyse frowns and shakes her head. ‘You’re funny. But there are no other boys.’
‘Really?’ I say. I’m shocked. Elyse has generally had at least two boys on the go for years. She doesn’t go out with them both at the same time, but she always seems to have one lined up in case things don’t work out with the one she’s with. She’s always liked to keep her options open, flirt, nothing serious. The thought of Elyse settling down is, well, insane.
‘I can’t imagine you settling down with just one boy,’ I say.
‘It’s not “settling down”!’ Elyse says, flinging her long hair back over her shoulder. ‘We’re not, like, getting a mortgage or a family car or a dog or anything. It’s just more like a flat share.’
‘Yes,’ Leonie says. ‘But it’s still a commitment.’
Elyse shrugs. ‘Maybe that’s okay.’
‘God,’ I say.
‘What about you?’ Elyse asks Leonie. ‘No boys you like?’
‘Nah,’ Leonie says. ‘All the boys I meet are total dicks.’
‘Sometimes that’s good,’ Elyse says, grinning.
‘Ew,’ Leonie says, with a straight face.
They both go back to reading their magazines and I realise that neither of them asked me.
‘Er, hello?’ I say when I realise they’re not joking, they’ve just ended the conversation.
‘Hello,’ Leonie says, resting her head on my shoulder.
I shrug her off. ‘How come neither of you asked me?’ I pull my elbow in as a steward rattles past with a trolley.
‘Asked you what?’ Elyse says, looking genuinely confused.
‘If there’s anyone I like!’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Elyse says. ‘First of all, I know there isn’t, because if there was you would have said. Secondly, you haven’t been out for months, so unless you’ve totally changed your preferences and got off with someone at school it seems very unlikely. And third, we both – we all – know you’re going to be mooning after Luke as soon as we get to Rome.’
‘God,’ I say. ‘I didn’t realise I was so transparent.’
Leonie laughs so loud that I hear another passenger tut. ‘You’re totally transparent. You’re like …’ She screws up her nose while she tries to think of something transparent. ‘Cling film?’ she eventually says. ‘But not so clingy.’ She puts her head back on my shoulder.
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘You’re the clingy one. Knobhead. And I won’t be mooning over Luke. He’s got a girlfriend anyway.’
‘How do you know that?’ Leonie says. ‘Been doing some Facebook stalkin’?’
‘No.’ I mean, I have, obviously. ‘But he had a girlfriend last time I saw him.’
‘Which was – what? – a year ago?’ Elyse says. ‘Come on, Milly.’
‘It doesn’t matter anyway,’ I say.
I feel Leonie laugh against my shoulder. ‘Sure, Jan.’
I spend the rest of the journey wondering if my sisters are right. They’re right that I haven’t been out since Dad died. I can’t remember the last time. My friends stopped inviting me to things months ago and they don’t even bother telling me about them any more. I just see the photos on Facebook. Occasionally I feel left out, but mostly I’m relieved not to have to get dressed up and go and pretend to have fun and be interested in some random friend of whatever boy my best friend Jules fancies. Actually, I don’t even think I can call Jules my best friend any more – we barely even speak outside of school and not even in school much either. My sisters have always been my best friends really.
They’re wrong about Luke though. There’s no way I’m going to waste my time in Rome chasing after him. Not that I would chase after him. But I’m not going to waste my time wondering whether he likes me. Or whether he’s with some other girl. Or whether he’d be interested in me if he’s not. And I’m absolutely not going to think about what happened after Dad’s funeral.
Luke’s hot, there’s no way around that. He’s always been hot. And I’ll probably always have a crush on him. But Rome is about family and Aunt Alice’s wedding, and food and wine and sun. It’s not about Luke. At all.