Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

‘Oh, that.’ She looked distracted, as if he had just dredged up something she
did five years ago.
‘Yes, that.’
She speared a tiny piece of chicken. ‘It was okay.’
Dad glanced at me.
I gave a tiny shrug. ‘Just okay? They must have given you some idea how you
did.’
‘I got it.’
‘What?’
She was still looking down at her plate. I stopped chewing.
‘They said I was exactly the kind of applicant they were looking for. I’ve got
to do some kind of foundation course, which takes a year, and then I can convert
it.’
Dad sat back in his chair. ‘That’s fantastic news.’
Mum reached over and patted her shoulder. ‘Oh, well done, love. That’s
brilliant.’
‘Not really. I don’t think I can afford four years of study.’
‘Don’t you worry about that just now. Really. Look how well Treena’s
managing. Hey –’ he nudged her ‘– we’ll find a way. We always find a way,
don’t we?’ Dad beamed at us both. ‘I think everything’s turning around for us,
now, girls. I think this is going to be a good time for this family.’
And then, out of nowhere, she burst into tears. Real tears. She cried like
Thomas cries, wailing, all snot and tears and not caring who hears, her sobs
breaking through the silence of the little room like a knife.
Thomas stared at her, open-mouthed, so that I had to haul him on to my lap
and distract him so that he didn’t get upset too. And while I fiddled with bits of
potato and talking peas and made silly voices, she told them.
She told them everything – about Will and the six-month contract and what
had happened when they went to Mauritius. As she spoke, Mum’s hands went to
her mouth. Granddad looked solemn. The chicken grew cold, the gravy
congealing in its boat.
Dad shook his head in disbelief. And then, as my sister detailed her flight
home from the Indian Ocean, her voice dropping to a whisper as she spoke of
her last words to Mrs Traynor, he pushed his chair back and stood up. He walked