Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

was too noisy for him – I hadn’t wanted to interrupt his film – he asked me why,
had I worked out a way to make it run silently? When I fed him, he complained
that the food was too hot or too cold, or that I had brought the next forkful up to
his mouth before he had finished the last. He had the ability to twist almost
anything I said or did so that I seemed stupid.
During those first two weeks, I got quite good at keeping my face completely
blank, and I would turn away and disappear into the other room and just say as
little to him as I possibly could. I started to hate him, and I’m sure he knew it.
I hadn’t realized it was possible to miss my old job more than I already did. I
missed Frank, and the way he actually looked pleased to see me when I arrived
in the morning. I missed the customers, their company, and the easy chatter that
swelled and dipped gently like a benign sea around me. This house, beautiful
and expensive as it was, was as still and silent as a morgue. Six months, I
repeated under my breath, when it felt unbearable. Six months.
And then on the Thursday, just as I was mixing Will’s mid-morning, highcalorie
drink, I heard Mrs Traynor’s voice in the hall. Except this time there were
other voices too. I waited, the fork stilled in my hand. I could just make out a
woman’s voice, young, well-spoken, and a man’s.
Mrs Traynor appeared in the kitchen doorway, and I tried to look busy,
whisking briskly at the beaker.
‘Is that made up with 60:40 water and milk?’ she asked, peering at the drink.
‘Yes. It’s the strawberry one.’
‘Will’s friends have come to see him. It would probably be best if you –’
‘I’ve got lots of things I should be doing in here,’ I said. I was actually quite
relieved that I would be spared his company for an hour or so. I screwed the lid
on to the beaker. ‘Would your guests like some tea or coffee?’
She looked almost surprised. ‘Yes. That would be very kind. Coffee. I think
I’ll … ’
She seemed even more tense than usual, her eyes darting towards the corridor,
from where we could hear the low murmur of voices. I guessed that Will didn’t
get many visitors.
‘I think … I’ll leave them all to it.’ She gazed out into the corridor, her
thoughts apparently far away. ‘Rupert. It’s Rupert, his old friend from work,’ she
said, suddenly turning towards me.