Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

9
I didn’t sleep that night. I lay awake in the little box room, gazing up at the
ceiling and carefully reconstructing the last two months based on what I now
knew. It was as if everything had shifted, fragmented and settled in some other
place, into a pattern I barely recognized.
I felt duped, the dim-witted accessory who hadn’t known what was going on. I
felt they must have laughed privately at my attempts to feed Will vegetables, or
cut his hair – little things to make him feel better. What had been the point, after
all?
I ran over and over the conversation I had heard, trying to interpret it in some
alternative way, trying to convince myself that I had misunderstood what they
had said. But Dignitas wasn’t exactly somewhere you went for a mini-break. I
couldn’t believe Camilla Traynor could contemplate doing that to her son. Yes, I
had thought her cold, and yes, awkward around him. It was hard to imagine her
cuddling him, as my mother had cuddled us – fiercely, joyously – until we
wriggled away, begging to be let go. If I’m honest, I just thought it was how the
upper classes were with their children. I had just read Will’s copy of Love in a
Cold Climate, after all. But to actively, to voluntarily play a part in her own son’s
death?
With hindsight her behaviour seemed even colder, her actions imbued with
some sinister intent. I was angry with her and angry with Will. Angry with them
for letting me engage in a facade. I was angry for all the times I had sat and
thought about how to make things better for him, how to make him comfortable,
or happy. When I was not angry, I was sad. I would recall the slight break in her
voice as she tried to comfort Georgina, and feel a great sadness for her. She was,
I knew, in an impossible position.