The Book of Us

The house was small, but homely. Everything was neat and in its proper place. The walls were a cheery pale yellow, and the bookcases were full, haphazardly stacked. Each book seemed to have broken spines and folded down corners. They had been loved, thumbed through, re-read over and over. Lauren remembered those books and the cases from Cass’s bedroom at her mum’s house. It had driven her mad, those books, how used they looked. ‘Don’t you have any respect for them?’ she’d asked, aghast at the teacup rims on covers, the folded pieces of paper as bookmarks sticking out from different ones. ‘Of course, I love them,’ Cass had replied and Lauren remembered simply not understanding how you could love something so much you’d destroy it.

‘What are you gonna do, Cass?’ Lauren was surprised by the desperation in her voice. ‘Is there treatment, something you can do? What’s actually wrong?’

Cass assessed her sleeping daughter, looking for the rise and fall of her chest, little ears that weren’t overhearing.

‘The big “C” of course, just like Mum,’ Cass said lightly. ‘Always figured it would get me sooner or later, so, here it is.’

‘What does that mean? It’s inherited?’

‘A certain gene makes you more susceptible.’ She shrugged gently. ‘Win some, lose some.’

Lauren simply stared.

‘Hey, you said less drama, I’m doing less drama.’

‘I shouldn’t have said that. I was just … overwhelmed.’

‘I know,’ Cass said. ‘But it’s no more than I deserve, is it?’

Lauren didn’t know what to say. Cass had that same knack as her mother – a discomfiting sort of mind reading. Her mother got her insecurities, and Cass got those thoughts she was ashamed of having. You betrayed me, you deserve this. Lauren shook her head.

Cass looked back at the screen, now showing the steady hum of people trying to leave the Embankment, an unholy mess of coats and scarves bumbling along in a plodding stream. Lauren looked at the clock on the wall: almost 1 a.m., and they hadn’t really talked at all.

‘Isn’t there something you could do?’ she asked, and once again Cass’s mask appeared, that blasé raised eyebrow that seemed to ask who the hell she thought she was, turning up and asking questions.

‘You mean like two rounds of chemo? Or a double mastectomy, maybe? Been there, done that. T-shirt doesn’t fit the same.’ She tilted her head, the small tug of a smile about her lips, ‘Come on, you have to laugh. If you don’t laugh, you cry and I haven’t got time for that. Not yet anyway.’

‘Cass. Tell me.’

Cassidy took a deep breath, eyes still on her daughter. ‘I knew I had the gene before Vee was born. I’d had tests just before Mum died. She didn’t want me to, wanted me to be like her, living without fear. But I needed to know. You saw her at the end. For once in my life, I wanted to be prepared.’ She shuffled a little, looking down at her daughter. ‘There’d been a bit of panic when I was pregnant. Vee was okay, but there were a few concerns. Had the chemo, and it worked. All good. Came back clear, on we went with our lives. They said a good way to limit future issues was the mastectomy, so I did it. This has been going on a long while, Loll, you’re just here for the final act.’

She paused, reaching up to brush hair away from her face, ‘Mum was bitter and angry in the end. She hated me for being there, for witnessing her disappearance. Then she hated me when I left. She was in a fog most days and it was like she became small, collapsed in on herself. There was no joy. Before, she’d been the life and soul of the party. First one on the dodgems, first on the dance floor …’

‘Loudest laugh in North London,’ Lauren supplied gently.

Cass snorted, ‘Exactly! And cancer took that from her. She wasn’t herself at the end, not really. It was like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I didn’t want to lose my mum but when it was over, I was relieved. The pain and loss had turned her into someone hateful. It’s awful, but I was pleased it was over. And that fucked me up.’

She trailed off. They both knew where it went from there. It had been bad enough in the run-up to Barbara’s death with the drinking and the lost jobs and the distance. Cancelling plans and turning up frantic, talking gibberish. A night, a confrontation, and a disappearance.

‘Loll, come sit here,’ she whispered, patting the seat next to her on the sofa.

Lauren went, moving delicately, settling herself in so as not to nudge Vee. She couldn’t stop looking at the little girl, how beautiful she was, the very best parts of Cass. Asleep she looked vulnerable and in need of protection. And yet, this sort of hysterical rage seemed to bubble when she looked at her – it was too painful, like looking directly into the sun. This beautiful little girl was a symbol of betrayal and lies. She couldn’t stop scanning her for parts of Darren, as if she’d suddenly sit up and say something he used to say, or run a thumb over her eyebrow like he did. She couldn’t hate an innocent child, could she? Surely she wasn’t capable of that.

‘She calls you Cassy,’ she said. ‘Why?’

Cass offered a one-shouldered shrug in reply. ‘Who knows why kids do what they do? It makes her happy.’

‘Is she … has Veronica got the gene, the thing your mum had?’

Cass bit her lip. ‘She’ll be higher risk, having a mother and grandmother who both croaked early. It’s fifty-fifty, they say. She can’t be tested until she’s older. I like to believe she’ll be fine, living a long and hopefully happy life.’

It was just a flicker of her lip, but Lauren saw the fear flash across her face, the understanding of loss and what she’d be leaving behind. A reluctance to go.

‘So you wanna know why you’re here, Loll?’ Cass smiled suddenly, emotion hidden behind her charm. ‘I know you do.’

‘To bring you the book. And find out about Vee.’

‘I don’t just want the book, I want you with the book.’ Cass looked very pleased with herself, and Lauren knew that look almost as well as that bitten lip and anxious face that looked back from the mirror each morning. Cass was bargaining. She’d told her once in a market in Greece that you should always look as if you’ll be getting exactly what you deserve, one way or the other. The only factor that changes is how long it takes. Time is the only variable. She was always coming out with bullshit like that, and often Loll, whilst delighted at how smart it all sounded, just chalked it up to Cass being Cass. Wanting to be alluring and make a story out of everything.

Cass reached over and took her hand. ‘I want us to do the things in the Big Book. The way we always meant to, before jobs and careers and husbands and dying mothers and fucked-up grieving and mistakes got in the way.’

‘You want me to quit my job and go backpacking with you?’ Lauren wondered if she was still drunk.

‘I want to live. And I want you there to live with me. You don’t have to quit your job if you don’t want to. Take a sabbatical, or a break, or something. I bet … have you got any holiday left?’ Oh dear, a question. Already there was a chink in her bargaining. Never question, always tell.

Lauren thought about how she’d afford the mortgage on that big family home they’d bought, and whether she could buy Darren out. It was unlikely. She’d have to sell up and move into somewhere smaller. She needed her job. She needed just one thing in her life to stay the same. The world had tilted, there were too many changes, so many mistakes and lies … it was hard to breathe just thinking about it. She felt untethered. Why hadn’t Cass shouted yet, why hadn’t they argued? They would, eventually, they would yell and scream and dredge it all up, just for Cass to die anyway. The shame of Darren’s lies, and those memories, stuck in her throat like gravel.

‘I … I can’t,’ she stuttered, looking at Cass. ‘I’m so sorry, but I can’t.’

‘Is this about …’ She lowered her chin to Veronica, still sleeping soundly, and Lauren shook her head.

‘I have a job, I have a life. I’m sorry about everything, I really am, but …’

The silence settled like dust, and Cass honestly looked like she didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t expecting a rejection. She never had, Lauren remembered. People always wanted to do things for her.

‘I should have known not to spring this on you. You always need time to process. You didn’t come because you were ready to forgive me, you just came because you felt sorry for me.’ Cass blinked away tears, shaking her head, trying to smile. ‘I understand, I do. I got my hopes up. It was too much to ask.’

Lauren said nothing, looking at the floor.

‘I guess money is a reason too?’ Cass asked, quietly hopeful.

‘Partly,’ she sighed, ‘divorces are expensive, I hear. Especially when he’s rushing it through to get remarried.’ She choked out a laugh at that, raising her eyes to the ceiling. ‘God, what a mess.’

‘That man was a colossal waste,’ Cass said bitterly, jaw clenched.

Lauren rested her eyes on the beautiful little girl beside her, reaching out gingerly to stroke her cheek, but stopping herself. ‘Maybe not completely.’

‘He sent us money. I’ve never touched it, Loll, not one penny. I didn’t ask him for it. Cheques arrive at the house each month, and a bit more at Christmas, and I’ve put it all away. I thought we could use it for all of us to go on this adventure. Kind of poetic, I guess. Paying for a reunion tour. But we don’t have to, you can have it, if you want.’

Lauren shook her head, eyes still on Veronica. ‘No, keep it for her … What is she going to do without you, Cass? How is she ever going to be okay?’

Cass smiled, but her lips quivered a little, her eyes glassier than before. ‘I’ve got it all planned out. She’s going to have so many wonderful memories with her mother. She’s going to have this big adventure, and that’s what she’ll remember, this gift I’ll give her.’

‘You’re going to take her on this trip?’

Cass nodded, awaiting judgement.

‘How long?’

‘As long as it takes.’

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, watching the little girl as she slept.

‘You know … you know how sorry I am, right, Loll? I know there’s nothing that could ever undo it, and I know you never forgive,’ Cass stared at the television, stroking her daughter’s hair, soothing herself rather than the child. ‘But I want you to know I’m taking my punishment. It’s actually the kind of torture that would almost make me believe in God. A delicious sort of irony, to have the worst thing you ever did, the thing that destroyed your life actually bring you something wonderful.’

‘Cass …’

She pasted a smile on her face. ‘I know what you’re thinking. I’m sick so you’ve been robbed of your chance to be angry. But we can have it out, tomorrow. I’ll drop Vee in with a neighbour and you can properly yell at me.’

‘You’re making me sound like a horrible person,’ Lauren sighed, wriggling in her seat.

‘I’m just trying to make it fair, make it even.’

It was impossible to even imagine how to make something like that right, and Lauren could feel Cass realising it too.

‘You could always come on this trip with us, make my final few months a misery? Put my hand in warm water when I’m asleep, and cut my hair with nail scissors? Come and punish me, it’ll be fun.’ She smiled so desperately, wide-mouthed and strained, that Lauren could only chortle politely, and announce she was going to bed.

There was too much to say, too many half-finished sentences and words that would return days later to haunt them. Why didn’t I just say that? Why didn’t I ask this? Cass took Veronica upstairs to her room, with Lauren returning to the child’s bedroom, following behind them. The window ledge halfway up had a selection of photographs in frames. Vee at playgroup, her sweet little monogrammed jumper. Cass, holding her baby close, looking exhausted and oh-so young. Lauren wondered who had taken the picture, who else she had in her life to soften the blow when everyone else was gone.

As she lay there in that lovely little room with the plug-in night light and the collection of fluffy toys, Lauren tried to imagine a world where Cassidy Jones was gone before she even got to know who she had become. It was only then, fist stuffed in her mouth, cover pulled over her head, that she allowed herself to cry.

Chapter 4

‘Get up! Get up! Auntie Loll, you have to get up!’ There were little stubby legs jumping on the bed, and a lumpy body landed on her. ‘Oof! Get up! It’s New Year! We’re having pancakes! Hellooo?’

Lauren lay very still, one eye open as she waited for the impatient hands to lift the cover. When Veronica’s face peered round, she grabbed her quickly, tickling as the girl shrieked and laughed.

‘Stop, stop!’ Vee kicked her legs, and Lauren stopped.

‘Not a nice way to be woken up, little miss!’

Veronica acknowledged this with a tilt of her head. The movement was so Cass that it made her chest hurt. She searched for Darren in that little face, looking for the arrogance behind the eyebrows, but there was nothing. She was pure Cass.

Vee jumped down onto the floor and went onto her tiptoes, kissing her on the cheek. ‘Good morning, Auntie Loll, happy New Year.’

‘Much nicer, thank you. Happy New Year!’ She let herself be dragged down the stairs by the insistent child, to see Cass at the stove, her blonde hair tied back in a blue-spotted scarf.

‘Morning, bacon with your pancakes?’

‘Yes, please!’ Cass’s pancakes had been legendary throughout the university dorms. The girl couldn’t make beans on toast without setting off the fire alarms, but fluffy American pancakes, perfectly round and golden, drowned in maple syrup and nearly-but-not-quite burnt bacon? Excellent every time.

‘We’re going to the rides!’ Vee clapped her hands as the pancakes came to the table. ‘You’ll come too.’

Lauren looked across to Cass, raising an eyebrow in question.

‘The pier, we’re going to the pier. Baby, you gotta ask Loll if she’s coming, not just tell her she is.’

‘But it’s easier to tell people,’ the little girl frowned.

Lauren fought a smile, her expression mirroring Cass’s. It felt nice, to share something simple like that with her.

‘I guess that’s true.’ Lauren shrugged. ‘I’ll come. I’m not going on any rides though.’

‘What’s the point, then?’ Veronica asked, truly perplexed.

‘Vee, kinda rude.’ Cass nudged her with her elbow, placing the plate of bacon and bottle of syrup in the middle of the table, and sitting down herself. ‘The point is your auntie will spend time with us. That’ll be nice, won’t it?’

‘Very nice,’ Veronica nodded, wide smile on her face, ‘but it would be better if you went on the roller-coaster.’

Lauren shook her head. ‘Nuh-uh. I’m a big scaredy-cat. If you’re very lucky though, I might go on the teacups with you.’

The little girl considered this, a forkful of pancake halfway to her face. ‘Hmm, I’ll think about it.’

‘Well, that’s very kind of you,’ Lauren laughed, her eyes flitting to Cass again, who was wearing a look of something like relief.

‘Your Auntie Loll doesn’t like big scary rides,’ Cass said to her daughter, sparing a glance for Lauren, who smiled at the tabletop. She knew Cass was thinking of the day they skived off uni to go to a theme park, and just before the ride started, Lauren panicked. She’d been strapped in and started crying and struggled to breathe. They let her out, and Cass went with her, never once telling her she was silly. She just bought her an ice-cream cone and suggested they walk around the maze instead.

Lauren remembered being so shocked that someone wouldn’t mock her for her weakness. Her parents were always telling her how embarrassingly fearful she was. Cass was the only person who ever let her be who she was. And now she was letting her be awkward and angry and confused, without question. Just gratitude.

‘But they’re the most fun!’ Vee looked shocked that anyone could deny the joy of a roller-coaster.

Lauren was almost convinced, but later that morning, as she looked up at the rickety old wooden framework, she felt her stomach drop.

‘That?’ She pointed. ‘You want to go on that?’

Vee grinned up at her, pulling on her hand. ‘Of course, it’s the best one!’

‘Leave poor Auntie Loll alone, pudding, come on. I’ll come with you.’ Cass steered her daughter over to the roller-coaster, where there was no queue. No one was there, and Lauren stood in the cold, hands in her pockets, shoulders braced against the chill. She was wearing a grey coat, brown boots and black tights. Against the grey background of the pier, the sky blending into the water, Lauren was sure she was almost invisible.

Cass and Veronica didn’t have that problem, it was easy to see them across the pier, Veronica’s bright little yellow rain mac and black-and-white tights standing out almost as much as Cass’s deep-green coat and red scarf. They were little chunks of brightness in the dismal landscape.

Lauren wondered whether she should have stopped Cass, asked if it was safe for her. They hadn’t talked about the state of her illness, what she was dealing with. She looked frail, but she had always had a pallor that erred on the side of sleepless nights. Once, a painter at a party said her skin looked like that of a porcelain doll. Cass had been delighted, tracing her own cheek in surprise. She loved a compliment. Lauren was sure he’d tried to sell them drugs later on that evening. Now she still looked like porcelain, but she was fragile. Easily broken. Lauren pressed her nails into her palm. There would be no talking Cass out of having fun.

The response would be the same as it always was, whenever Cass did anything dangerous or foolish or strange: Well, gotta die someday. Whether it was trying the week-old Chinese food for a dare, or getting pierced in a back-alley studio, or walking over to that scowling boy with the neck tattoo to demand a date, Cass never turned down the chance to take a risk.

She watched that little cart creep to the top of the roller-coaster, Vee’s yellow coat blinking in the distance, so high up in the sky. She held her breath, trying not to panic. So many things could go wrong. They could be hurt. Or killed. Wasn’t there a story in the newspaper about a girl getting killed on a roller-coaster? Nothing was certain, everything could turn upside down in a second. Your best friend could betray you, your husband could leave you, you could realise you’d wasted the last six years of your life being angry about the wrong thing. You could meet a child who made you jealous of your dying friend, but also made your stomach cramp with loss. You could realise your life was not the way it was meant to be. You could blame your idiot husband and your critical mother and your beautiful, selfish friend, and realise you created your own undoing all along, with every choice you made.

God, she needed them to be okay.

They seemed to hover at the top, and then they were falling, slipping through the air and tracing the loops. Lauren’s heart thumped desperately, and she held her breath. The little figures in the distance held their arms up as they fell. She imagined she could hear their screams. Her eyes followed their movements in a panic, time seemingly endless as they moved this way and that, until finally they were deposited back to the ground and she could breathe again.

She watched as Veronica jumped up and down in delight, clapping her hands, and hugging her mother. Cass looked breathless, but there was colour in her cheeks, and her red scarf flapped in the wind.

Veronica’s grin was huge as she ran over. ‘Did you see us? Did you see us? We were so high and then we just went zoom!’ Her hand indicated the descent. Her eyes were so bright and vibrant, wide with excitement. ‘We were like birds, hoot hoot!’ She lifted her arms to swoop around the two adults, holding her coat up like a cape. She then launched herself at Cass, who was forced to bend and catch her, cradling her close.

Lauren watched her face, the strain in her movements, the downward tilt of her mouth as she gritted her teeth. There it was, illness hovering behind her eyes and in the joints of her fingers. It made Lauren wince a little just to watch.

‘Gently, sweetheart, gently.’ Cass kissed her daughter’s rosy cheek and swung her back and forth, rotating from the hips. ‘Besides, you know we’re not birds! What are we?’

‘We’re wolves!’ Veronica yelped, throwing both her arms up, ‘Arroooo!’

Cass threw her head back too, joining her. ‘Arroooooo!’

Lauren’s cheeks coloured in embarrassment, and she had to physically stop herself from stepping back from them. Her eyes sought out Cass’s and she wondered if she remembered, or if she’d just plucked a random phrase from the air to entertain her daughter.

Cass met her gaze defiantly, not leaving her eyes as she spoke to Veronica. ‘Vee, tell Auntie Loll why we’re wolves.’

‘Because we’re a pack,’ Vee ticked them off on her fingers, ‘and we protect each other, and we keep each other warm, and we’re pretty …’

Cass pressed her lips together, and almost rolled her eyes as she squeezed Veronica and put her down.

‘Yes, wolves are very pretty. But we’re a pack, right?’

‘Right,’ the little girl nodded definitively. ‘And Auntie Loll too, right? She’s part of our pack?’

‘I don’t know, baby.’ Cass tilted her head at Lauren. ‘What do you think?’

It was a strange thing, to watch them both watching her, their heads at that same angle, each quirking that same eyebrow.

‘Can you howl, Auntie Loll? You need to have a good howl to be a wolf,’ the little girl said with authority, hands on hips. ‘Let’s hear your howl.’

Lauren snorted, shaking her head. ‘I’m sorry, lovely one, I’m not a wolf. I’m a deer … no, something less elegant … I’m a pheasant. Or a dormouse, I’m a dormouse.’

‘What’s a pheasant?’ she frowned.

‘A very silly bird.’ She shook her head, then, as the awkwardness made her skin itch, she checked her watch. ‘Look, I better get back. Back to work tomorrow, long drive and everything …’

Disappointment flashed across Cass’s face, but she nodded. ‘Of course, thanks for coming. Look, we’ll walk you back to the car.’

‘No, no, enjoy the pier. I’m sure there’s another terrifying ride to go on – enjoy your New Year’s Day!’ She flapped her arms, as if to keep them at bay. ‘I left the book for you, Cass, it’s on your kitchen table … Good luck with it.’

Cass bit her lip, nodding slowly, before turning to Veronica. ‘Baby, say goodbye to Auntie Loll.’

‘Bye.’ The little girl reached out her arms and Lauren crouched down, letting herself be nestled into, Vee’s hair tickling her nose. This child who would have been her step-daughter, the living symbol of the ultimate betrayal. Yet she whispered in Lauren’s ear, ‘Well, I think you’re a wolf,’ and she struggled to hold in the tears.

Lauren squeezed her briefly, feeling her chest contract. She had to get out of there. This was too much. This wasn’t her life. She wasn’t part of this, she wasn’t one of them. And tomorrow she had to go back to work and pretend her husband hadn’t left her, Cass wasn’t sick, Veronica didn’t exist and that everything was normal.

‘Um, Loll, do you, I mean … do you want my number, or … anything?’ Cass looked so small suddenly, like a strong breeze from the waves could carry her away. Lauren wanted her to be sassy, and courageous, to yell, ‘Hey bitch, take my number, we’ll talk,’ just as brash as she used to be. But instead she just stood there, with this aching desperation on her face, like a lifeline was walking away from her.

‘I’ll write to you,’ Lauren stuttered as she took a few steps, ‘that’s what we do now, isn’t it? We’re all cool and old school and we write letters.’

She had to force herself to slow down, because she knew it looked like she was running away, her feet catching paving stones as she stared resolutely ahead. When she had crossed the road and made it down a side path, she looked back. They were still there, standing on the pier, holding hands, the tall thin woman in the green coat, and the little girl in her yellow mac, the only visible thing against the grey.