Me Before You: A Novel

way out.’ His voice was soft and drawling.
    ‘Give us all a kiss and we’ll all show you the way out.’
    Their faces were a blur.
    ‘I just … I just want you to –’
    ‘Come on, Lou. You like me, don’t you? You’ve been sitting on my lap all evening. One kiss. How hard is that?’
    I heard a snigger.
    ‘And you’ll show me how to get out?’ My voice sounded pathetic, even to me.
    ‘Just one.’ He moved closer.
    I felt his mouth on mine, a hand squeezing my thigh.
    He broke away, and I heard the tenor of his breathing change. ‘And now Jake’s turn.’
    I don’t know what I said then. Someone had my arm. I heard the laughter, felt a hand in my hair, another mouth on mine, insistent, invasive, and then –
    ‘
Will
 … ’
    I was sobbing now, crouched over myself. ‘
Will
,’ I was saying his name, over and over again, my voice ragged, emerging somewhere from my chest. I heard him somewhere far off, beyond the hedge.
    ‘Louisa? Louisa, where are you? What’s the matter?’
    I was in the corner, as far under the hedge as I could get. Tears blurred my eyes, my arms wrapped tightly around me. I couldn’t get out. I would be stuck here forever. Nobody would find me.
    ‘Will … ’
    ‘Where are – ?’
    And there he was, in front of me.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, looking up, my face contorted. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t … do it.’
    He lifted his arm a couple of inches – the maximum he could manage. ‘Oh Jesus, what the – ? Come here, Clark. He moved forward, then glanced down at his arm in frustration.‘Bloody useless thing … It’s okay. Just breathe. Come here. Just breathe. Slowly.’
    I wiped my eyes. At the sight of him, the panic had begun to subside. I stood up, unsteadily, and tried to straighten my face. ‘I’m sorry. I … don’t know what happened.’
    ‘Are you claustrophobic?’ His face, inches from mine, was etched with worry. ‘I could see you didn’t want to go in. I just … I just thought you were being –’
    I shut my eyes. ‘I just want to go now.’
    ‘Hold on to my hand. We’ll go out.’
    He had me out of there within minutes. He knew the maze backwards, he told me as we walked, his voice calm, reassuring. It had been a challenge for him as a boy to learn his way through. I entwined my fingers with his and felt the warmth of his hand as something comforting. I felt foolish when I realized how close to the entrance I had been all along.
    We stopped at a bench just outside, and I rummaged in the back of his chair for a tissue. We sat there in silence, me on the end of the bench beside him, both of us waiting for my hiccoughing to subside.
    He sat, sneaking sideways glances at me.
    ‘So … ?’ he said, finally, when I must have looked as if I could speak without falling apart again. ‘You want to tell me what’s going on?’
    I twisted the tissue in my hands. ‘I can’t.’
    He closed his mouth.
    I swallowed. ‘It’s not you,’ I said, hurriedly. ‘I haven’t talked to anyone about … It’s … it’s stupid. And a long time ago. I didn’t think … I would … ’
    I felt his eyes on me, and wished he wouldn’t look. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and my stomach felt as if it were made of a million knots.
    I shook my head, trying to tell him that there were things I couldn’t say. I wanted to reach for his hand again, but I didn’t feel I could. I was conscious of his gaze, could almost hear his unspoken questions.
    Below us, two cars had pulled up near the gates. Two figures got out – from here it was impossible to see who – and embraced. They stood there for a few minutes, perhaps talking, and then got back into their cars and drove off in the opposite direction. I watched them but I couldn’t think. My mind felt frozen. I didn’t know what to say about anything any more.
    ‘Okay. Here’s a thing,’ he said, finally. I turned around, but he wasn’t looking at me. ‘I’ll tell you something that I never tell anyone. All right?’
    ‘All right.’ I screwed the tissue into a ball in my hands, waiting.
    He took a deep breath.
    ‘I get really, really scared of how this is going to go.’ He let that settle in the air between us, and then, in a low, calm voice, he carried on. ‘I know most people think living like me is about the worst thing that could happen. But it could get worse. I could end up not being able to breathe by myself, not being able to talk. I could get circulatory problems