Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

His voice, when it came, was careful. ‘You think I’d blackmail my father into
giving yours a job?’
Put like that it did sound far-fetched.
I sat down again. ‘Sorry. I don’t know. It’s just weird. The timing. It’s all a bit
convenient.’
‘Then be pleased, Clark. It’s good news. Your dad will be great. And it
means … ’ He hesitated.
‘It means what?’
‘ … that one day you can go off and spread your wings without worrying
about how your parents are going to be able to support themselves.’
It was as if he had punched me. I felt the air disappear from my lungs.
‘Lou?’
‘Yes?’
‘You’re awfully quiet.’
‘I’m … ’ I swallowed. ‘Sorry. Distracted by something. Granddad’s calling
me. But yes. Thanks for – for putting a word in for him.’ I had to get off the
phone. Because out of nowhere a huge lump had lodged itself somewhere in my
throat and I wasn’t sure I could say anything else.
I walked to the pub. The air was thick with the smell of blossom, and people
smiled as they passed me on the street. I couldn’t raise a single greeting in
return. I just knew I couldn’t stay in that house, alone with my thoughts. I found
the Triathlon Terrors all in the beer garden, their two tables pushed together in a
dappled corner, arms and legs spilling off the ends in sinewy pink angles. I got a
few polite nods (none from the women) and Patrick stood, creating a small space
for me beside him. I realized I really wished Treena was around.
The pub garden was full, with that peculiarly English mix of braying students
and post-work salesmen in their shirtsleeves. This pub was a favourite with
tourists, and among the English voices were a variety of other accents – Italian,
French, American. From the west wall they could see the castle, and – just as
they did every summer – the tourists were lining up for photographs with it
behind them in the distance.
‘I wasn’t expecting you. Do you want a drink?’